Donna Lynne Champlin's First Solo CD

NY Times- the lost post

2011-09-28T13:50:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know, I was asked by the NY Times to be a guest blogger about my experience in the NYMF festival's production of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. They published two o my posts but the third one i sent them last week did not get posted before it became too dated for them. I wrote a new post that will be posted on the NY Times website tomorrow but for those of you who are interested in what the 'lost post' said- feel free to read below. Whee!

P&P BLOG POST #3

September 6, 2011

We conclude our union meeting by electing a Deputy (an always reluctant liason between the cast, management and AEA), and the rest of the Pride and Prejudice company comes back in for the “Meet and Greet”. I jump in a few publicity shots before slipping out to find a quiet place to pump my FLB (freakishly large breasts). The show’s team has graciously agreed to schedule in 20 minute maternity breaks for me every two hours, affectionately referred to as “Boobs O’Clock”. Unfortunately, they can’t guarantee me a place to pump or an electrical outlet so I’ll have to take what I can get at Studios 353 and hope that twenty minutes is enough time to find a space, set myself up, pump (two handed for maximum effect), measure the milk, pour it into a bag, label the bag, put the bag on ice, find a sink to rinse everything, dry everything, put it all away and get back to rehearsal without looking like I’ve run through a sprinkler.

Of course it’s a full house at Studios 353 this morning, so the stairwell is my only option. The filthy, nasty, dark, remarkably busy, probably haunted, only place anyone apparently gets cell reception stairwell. Awesome. New at this pumping thing, before I know it I’ve dropped pretty much every part of my pump on the floor within 90 seconds. This is clearly not going to work . I’d be better off pumping in a TB ward and no matter which way I’m facing there’s always someone coming from behind getting much more than they bargained for. I head to the bathroom and there’s a line ten people deep. Because, why wouldn’t there be. I momentarily consider skipping this pumping break altogether until I experience the ‘let down’. That’s when your milk comes in to your breasts which feels like someone dumping a ton of hardening cement into your chest and then lighting it on fire just for funsies. Now hunched over in excruciating pain, I shuffle back to Room #3.

I peek in, catch our director (Igor Goldin) in mid ‘welcome’ speech, circle my breasts with my index fingers, then open and close my hands in a squeezing motion all the while furiously shaking my head (the universal symbol for “I’m already a huge pain in your ass, and it’s only the first day.”).

By the time I return twenty minutes later from behind (no joke) two ferns in the lobby, I’ve missed the rest of Igor’s welcome speech, departmental introductions and discussions of the set, lighting and costume designs. However, I am just in time for the full read/sing-through of the show. Finally! This is always one of my favorites parts of the process. It’s like opening presents on Christmas morning and is nothing short of thrilling.

It’s a big company, a big score and a big show; three things that are not hallmarks of NYMF productions because it’s hard enough to do a small show with the limited rehearsal time, space and money NYMF provides. However, this team has so many NYMF vets who know the drill (Igor, our choreographer Jeffry Denman and half of the acting company) we may just pull this off, toi toi toi. So let it be known that in my opinion, this whole team is swinging a large set of brass ones and as I listen to the classically trained voices bounce off the walls with a warm intensity that’s just not applied anymore in contemporary scores, the goose bumps on my arms tell me I can’t wait to see just how we all pull this ‘old school’ baby off.

To be continued…

HELLO MY DARLING LOVE PUPPIES!!!

2010-09-01T12:46:00.000-07:00

Long time no blog, eh?

So sorry....

please forgive me.

it's been a whirlwind of 'personal life' over here and it's still kinda swirly....

but i DID just want to let you know that apparently this blog and the OLD FRIENDS CD has inspired another artist out there to put her own CD together as well. Since that was half the point of this whole project for me (to help educate and inspire other artists to take back artistic control of their own work) I feel compelled to share this with you.

If you're a fan of Barbara Cook, Julie Andrews and and Shirley Jones look no further than Niffer Clarke's upcoming debut album "Beyond The Ingenue".

If you're interested in learning more about "Beyond The Ingenue" please go to:

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1581583847/im-raising-my-voice-and-some-money-too-im-making-a

She's also raising money for her efforts and she is only about $1000 away (her budget is $7000)....so if you'd like to support her, please do.

Hoping you're all well and happy.....

please stay tuned here for more news in a couple months of new projects coming from PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS!

All My Lerv-

donna lynne

Leenya Rideout..

2010-06-04T12:57:00.000-07:00

Alright, my lovelies-

If you don't know who Leenya Rideout is by now....

you should.

She's a buh-rilliant singer, actress, musician-

seen on Broadway in Cyrano, Cabaret, Company (i think she has it in her contract to only do shows that begin with the letter "C".....helllooooooooo Carnival!).

she is a bona-fide member of the 'hillbilly mafia' and she is MAKING HER OWN CD TOO!!!!

THIS is one of the main reasons I started the blog...

to inspire other artists to make their own recordings....

and for someone as awesomely talented and Leenya to put a CD out there?

Well....we all win with that one.

No doubt.

whee!!!!!

She is a marvelous talent-

and worth supporting in every way.

She has a blog called WHAT WOULD LEENYA DO and I encourage you all to subscribe. She writes in a recent post about how OLD FRIENDS and the 'do it yourself' process that she's embarking on.

http://whatwouldleenyado.blogspot.com/

check it out-

and follow her journey!

I know i will!

lerv-

xoxo

Thank you Andy Propst and the SONDHEIM REVIEW!

2010-06-04T12:50:00.000-07:00

The awesome Andy Propst put in a lovely shout-out to OLD FRIENDS in the summer Sondheim Review-

which is no easy feat since....

SADLY...

there is no actual Sondheim on the album.

(yeah...imagine that awkward moment where I put a copy in the mail to Mr Sondheim and thought....'Hmmmmmmmmm....was that really the best of ideas?" Actually, it was- he was incredibly kind.)

While nothing would please me more than to do an album of all Sondheim...

I am admittedly intimidated that so many have had that very same idea for many decades before me.

lol.

Regardless-

thanks to Mr Propst, a kind review is in the SONDHEIM SINGS section of the 'summer' edition.

"And bear in mind-- Old Friends from Donna Lynne Champlin, a grand interpreter of Sondheim's music on Broadway (she played Pirelli in John Doyle's revival of Sweeney Todd) and in her solo sow Finishing The Hat. There are no Sondheim songs on this disc, but there is an array of work from other contemporary songwriters including Jim Bauer, Jason Robert Brown, Stephen Flaherty, Lynn Ahrens and Michael John LaChiusa. Old Friends was made on a shoe string budget but sounds like a million bucks."

THANK YOU ANDY!

;-)

xoxo

Thanks DARYL GLENN!!!

2010-06-04T12:45:00.000-07:00

Daryl Glenn from the Cabaret Exchange wrote a lovely review of OLD FRIENDS...

THANK YOU SO MUCH, Mr. Glenn!!!

"Kentucky (!) native Stephen Foster Collins wrote “Hard Times Come Again No More” (the opening track here) but I say, if it’s Donna Lynne Champlin bringing (or rather singing) the hard times, bring it on! This gal has an absolutely exquisite voice. I realize this comes as no surprise to anyone who knows her musical theatre work, particuarly in Sweeney Todd, By Jeeves , James Joyceʼs ʻThe Deadʼ (all on Broadway) or Bloomer Girl (City Centerʼs Encoreʼ series), but this album is truly a revelation. Ms. Champlin can howl the blues, or at least songs of a blue heart with the very best of ʻem!

"Perhaps most impressive of all, is the fact that she recorded this entire album on an extremely modest budget in the privacy of her own home. Sometimes, in privacy of her own home. Sometimes, in the privacy of her own bathroom! Take that you big media conglomerates! It was a risk recording an album of practically all ballads, and I wouldnʼt recommend it to everyone. But Ms. Champlin carries it off with feathers flying high! What makes the difference, besides that goose-pimple inducing sound of hers, is the fact she has very serious acting chops as well. And she acts the stuffing out of each and every selection here, so we get just as involved in the story as she does.

The stories here are by a wide variety of songwriters in a wide variety of styles, and all are outstanding, even the contemporary theatre songs! My readers will, no doubt, recall that I take issue with many of the songs from the current musical theatre scene, however, Ms. Champlinʼs choices here (“Eiffel Tower” by Jim Bauer, “Still Hurting” by Jason Robert Browne from The Last Five Years, “County Fair” by Scott Warrender and Jim Luigs from Das Barbecu and “When Eleanor Smiles” by Michael John LaChiusa fromFirst Lady Suite, are all impeccable. A couple songs from recent animated films (“Once Upon A December” from Anastasia by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens, “When She Loved Me” from Toy Story II by Randy Newman) shine as well with tender treatments.

Demonstrating a vast grasp of innumerable styles, Ms. Champlin also treats us to a pair of folk/country compositions (“Whereʼve You Been” bycompositions (“Whereʼve You Been” by Don Henry and Jonathan Verner and the Kate McGarrigle classic, “I Cried For Us”). As an adopted child myself, the heartbreaking “From Godʼs Arms to My Arms to Yours” (Michael McLean), is particuarly touching with a mother explaining her choice to have and yet give her son to another. My only tiny criticism would be that I think itʼs time we call a temporary moratoriumon Charlie Chaplinʼs “Smile.” Pretty as it may be, all things suffer from overexposure! Perhaps most impressive of all, besides recording the whole thing herself, is the fact that Ms. Champlin also arranged, sings all vocals and plays piano, accordian, flute, tin whistle, synthed guitar, bass, strings, chimes and percussion! Sheesh! What do you even call such a person? A musical genius seems fitting. "

http://www.cabaretexchange.com/review/125-cd/1098-cd-review-donna-lynne-champlinold-friends.html:

Sadie, Sadie...

2010-06-04T12:32:00.001-07:00

Hello my dearests....

Long time no nuthin'.

Sorry for that.

I've been a bit busy...

did a gig at the Actors Theatre of Louisiville...

got married...

went on a honeymoon...

bought a house....

ya know.

same old same old.

Whhhhhhhaaaaaaattttttttt did she say?

no REALLY!

i did!

i got hitched!

Look!

and that's my new husband Andrew Arrow!!!

(who was also my awesome vocal producer on OLD FRIENDS and a brilliant singer-actor in his own right- www.andrewarrow.net).

Whee!!!!

Anyway-

there's some catching up to do with OLD FRIENDS, some more lovely reviews have come out which I'll post separately since I got married and everything I want to make sure that the enormity of that really shines on its own.

btw, did i mention that i got married?

oh...

i did.

oh well...

here's another PICTURE!!!!

GAHHHHH!!!!!

ok ok.

i'm sorry.

back to work.

hoping you're all well and happy!!!!

xoxo

donna lynne

LONG TIME, NO POST- MY LOVELIES!

2010-05-04T16:08:00.000-07:00

Hello My Dearests!!!!

Long time no posts, i know!

Life has been busy...

getting married in less than a week...

wwwhhhhhhhaaattttttt?

Yup.

Gettin' hitched so....

life's been about that recently.

We had a marvelous time at the Barnes & Noble CD signing last wednesday-

it was me at 6pm and Gene Wilder at 7:30pm.

Pretty wicked cool to meet him in person.

Thanks so much to everyone who came to the signing-

we had a fantastic turnout and sold quite a few CDs for that kind of event so...WOOHOO!!!

I am posting to catch up but more importantly...

I wanted to let you all know that I have joined the Walk for ALS here in NYC on May 15th. Just before the sound check for the B&N event my brother told me that his wife had been officially diagnosed with ALS after three years of 'mysterious' ailments.

Needless to say, it's shocking and frustrating and humbling the little we can do at the moment besides educate ourselves and rally around my sister-in-law but when the opportunity to walk for ALS came up, I decided to participate in this small way.

If you would like to walk with me, or if you would like to donate to my walk please go to this link: http://web.alsa.org/site/TR/Walks/GreaterNewYorkWalk?px=2692507&pg=personal&fr_id=6418

I know this is out of the realm of CD land but....

figured I would reach out to all of you and if any of you are interested in supporting this worthy cause (which is now incredibly personal to me and my family)-

please feel free to do so.

Much much love to you all-

and I will post again soon.

Love love love....

xoxo

THE RAVE REVIEWS ARE IN!!!

2010-03-21T10:45:00.000-07:00

Hello My Darling Little Bunnies!

So-

We've finally opened up the show here at the Actors Theatre of Louisville (the brilliant CHERY SISTERS) and I am catching up on some business today.

First on the list was compiling 'pull-quotes' from the rave reviews that OLD FRIENDS has received since it was released on December 1, 2009.

For all of you who supported this adventure in ANY way- monetarily, with labors of love and talent, or just in well wishes-- these reviews are every bit as much yours as they are mine.

Let's all enjoy them together! Whee!

“VOTED ONE OF THE TOP TEN VOCAL ALBUMS OF 2009…

Donna Lynne Champlin's Old Friends becomes an instant new friend for these ears. Unusually riveting and emotionally raw, the singing and song choices are full of vulnerability, and the accompaniment is shorn of unnecessary frills, fuss or fakery. It is (simultaneously) mesmerizing and thrilling…haunting, healing and hypnotic.”

Talkinbroadway.com

“Brilliant! Old Friends is a stunning knockout!”

NEXT magazine

“A masterpiece. A stunning, heart-breaking and haunting Irish ghost story…a memory play on record.”

Broadwayworld.com

“A bitter-sweet masterpiece”

The Toronto Star

“With delicacy and often heartbreaking intensity, Old Friends is a testament to Champlin’s talent as both a songstress and a producer.”

Theatremania.com

“Impressive…a first-rate CD.”

Playbill.com

“The musical theater veteran, Donna Lynne Champlin, tackles a plethora of material from some of today's most gifted musical theater writers with delicacy and often heartbreaking intensity on a disc that's a testament to her talent as both songstress and producer.”

Theatremania.com

“Old Friends is one grand album.”

Peter Filichia

“Old Friends is probably the most revelatory and unique solo album I've ever heard from a modern musical theatre talent.”

Reynaldi Alexander, The Grandest Adventure.com

“The perfect example of creativity with a horizontal axis- Champlin is to be admired for her beautiful artistry and her practical acumen.”

Psychology Today

OLD FRIENDS GETS A RAVE FROM BROADWAYWORLD's Pat Cerasaro

2010-02-19T11:42:00.000-08:00

THANKS SO MUCH BROADWAYWORLD AND MR. CERASARO!!!!!

********

"This week we are taking a look at two thrifty releases that come from very different places, from two very different performers with wildly divergent intended goals for their work. A definite case of a hit and a miss, if there ever were any. Up first is the strong debut from the first-ever female Pirelli in SWEENEY TODD...

Smiling, Though Her Heart Is Breaking

Donna Lynne Champlin - OLD FRIENDS

SCORE: 8/10

A stunning, idiosyncratic and curiosity-provoking entry, Donna Lynne Champlin's OLD FRIENDS feels much like the title proposes, except these old friends have lots of new stories to tell you, and songs to sing you, in addition to the well-worn tears and tickles provided by warm memories - and some bitter and cold - of yore. Where other performers could have concocted a meal of maudlin mush, Champlin cooks up a delectable ragout of wit, warmth and a generous sprinkling of sincere sentiment. There may be a small side serving of sarcasm, but that acts as a mostly welcome sorbet in between the fifteen course feast served with discernible drive and tangible delight by the affable host to us, the old friends, whom she regales with performances filled with endless ingenuity and careful precision, nailing nearly every nuance with nary a misstep. OLD FRIENDS makes us feel satisfied and fulfilled, much like a good meal or time spent with an old friend can warm the heart, spirit and present new perspectives with which to look at life in a new light. Yet, this is a feast that may be too rich for some and a few bites at a time may be the best way to ease your way into this effortlessly enjoyable and immensely interesting feast served up for us by Miss Champlin. Be forewarned, there is much more dark meat being served up here than light, and the mood is unrelentingly contemplative. The elegant and evocative artwork and design provided by the always excellent Robbie Rozelle, along with the kindhearted and kooky liner notes provided by Carol Burnett (Champlin's co-star in HOLLYWOOD ARMS) and Miss Champlin herself, act both as a palette-whetting appetizer for the riches to come and a warming aperitif after we have had our fill and wish to learn more about these songs and the master chef at the helm. It would be hard for me to have too much of this delicious treat, though, as I have pointed it out, it may take a listen or two to fall under the spell of this skilled storyteller as she weaves her magic spell over the course of the always-arresting album. I apologize in advance for this gluttonous glut of words, and shall eschew the epicureans' hyperbole henceforth, though I must reiterate that that is the best way to describe the delicate layers and subdued subtlety injected into nearly every element of this album's presentation and the preciseness of the pleasantries as they strike the palette. So, let's just dig right in.

Evoking Emmylou Harris, the emotional and eerie "Hard Times Come Again No More" is a exemplary opener to the album. The quartet of voices, all Champlin, sound much like apparitions appearing to raise the curtain to reveal a country cabin and we can feel the sentimental snowflakes fall like long-forgotten memories on the floor of the sonic stage picture she creates as she sets the scene for what is to come as the ghostly memory play progresses. "Eiffel Tower" is actually abetted by the fact that this song, as well as the majority of the album, was recorded in a less-than-steller environment (read: her bathroom/recording booth). The Charlie Chaplin standard "Smile" is given both a country twang and an operatic overtone with winning results, no small order in explanation or enacting. The spirits slink into an even more rueful, ruminative life hereafter with "Only Hope", which continues the somber tone of the early tracks, but remains compelling and alluring both because of the elegiac orchestration and emotive delivery of the material. Patsy Cline herself would find much to like in both "Smile" and "Only Hope", and so do I. "County Fair" displays Champlin at her storytelling best and the subtle sound effects are enchanting and instrumental in continuing to carry the mood of the album, both here and on the other tracks. With "Cry" the enterprise achieves its emotional apotheosis, but the tracks leading up to it sabotage its intended impact somewhat largely because what has come before is similarly sad and sentimental, though her cries of pain are searing and scorching as the song builds to its caterwauling climax and by the end it has clearly established itself as a standout in a string of standouts. Few could make this song as much of a winner as Champlin has here and she is due much praise for that feat alone. "Once Upon A December", from the film of ANASTASIA by Ahrens & Flaherty, one of the most ghostly and gilt-encrusted silvery songs ever written, signals the sentimental, sad snowfall started at the beginning of the album turning into a full-on blustery blizzard of memories recreated for our entertainment of introverted inspection. "Where've You Been" again displays Champlin's ingratiating and graceful way with words and her palpable precision in telling a tale - whether tall or short, sad or sentimental, light or dark.

Indeed, the bright white, ephemeral snowflakes of sweet sentimentality that swirl around us as the tracks progress act as the singular respite from the encroaching darkness that envelops the majority of the album. The audible quiver in Champlin's voice at the end of "Where've You Been" could elicit an ice-cold teardrop from the chilliest and most cold-hearted among us. Speaking of tears, both fresh, warm and wet as well as distant, cool, dry and nearly forgotten, "I Cried For Us" is more of the same sad introspection, but lacking the variety of the similarly-themed tracks leading up to it. It is at this point that the album becomes almost too depressing to endure, but the uplifting trio of voices (all Champlin) again prove that Champlain can make much more out of the material than it may deserve and her personality alone makes this emotionally treacherous terrain affable and affecting. She consistently changes up the intention and intensity, and where most others would devolve into some sameness she shines ever brighter and more blazing. Jason Robert Brown‘s "Still Hurting", undoubtedly one of the most scathing and depressing songs written in the last twenty years, is performed with utmost dedication and the delivery rivals even that ofLauren Kennedy and Sherie Rene Scott, two leading ladies who could have rightfully claimed they owned this song. Until now. "When She Loved Me" by Randy Newman simply must be heard, as Champlin acquits herself remarkably well with it, besting Sarah McLachlan and Kerry Butler‘s quite good versions. "From God's Arms To My Arms To Yours" is heart-breaking and heartfelt, with excellent music and lyrics by Michael McLean that, combined with Champlin‘s considerate delivery, is equally a political message and a masterpiece of maternal emotion. "When Eleanor Smiles", the best song from the unusual and unique FIRST LADY SUITE by Michael John LaChiusa, is the song I was most looking forward to hearing when the track-list for the album was revealed and it is now my favorite recording of the song. While in the show the song is performed quite differently, Champlin's sensitive rendering of the material fits in well with the rest of the album, and the sprightly and showy build-up near the end of the song is the only bone thrown to the those looking for a showstopper here. This album is all about mood, style and substance, and never is that made more clear than in this track which is quite different from the way it is performed in the show. "When The End Comes" suffers the most from the cheaply done recording technique (no fault of Champlin's) and acts as the only track on the album that is below the level of the rest of the affair, and it is almost too audibly distorted to have been included as far as I'm concerned. The last track, "Parting Glass", ends the album on a perfect note and brings the snowflake-laden, sentimental storytelling full-circle. This album is a journey down dark, even black, paths, but we walk away feeling as if we have gained so much, not the least of which is a piece of Champlin's very heart and soul, and even a quick last-minute jaunt to Ireland as in the last track. Though the curtain has fallen, as has the snow, we are left with much to ponder as we wander off on our way at the album's conclusion. Yet, the ghosts of memories, our own and Champlin's, still linger with us longer after it is over.

This album is an Irish ghost story, a memory play on record, and the spirits shall haunt you many, many nights after you have succumbed to their somnolent songs of love, loss and perseverence. While the somber, plaintive nature of the song selection may initially dissuade some from partaking in this rueful ragout, the ultimate emotional satisfaction we feel after having gone on this exquisite journey and having experienced the many tastes of these tears and gnawed upon the gristle as well as the magnificent meat at the heart of it, we ultimately come away anything but hungry. Well, perhaps hungry for another meal shared with the master chef and storyteller who makes us feel like her closest friends over the course of the rich, rewarding and truly delicious meal she has served us. Some heartache is to be hard here, for sure, but certainly no heartburn. Bon a petit!"

Pat Cerasaro- www.BroadwayWorld.com

NEED AUDIO FROM FINISHING THE HAT SHOWS (POST FEB 2007)

2010-01-31T22:57:00.000-08:00

Hello my darlings--

Sorry this post is a bit 'off topic'-

but I am working on my second CD which is an audio compilation of my live one-woman show FINISHING THE HAT.

I have tons of audio pre February 2007 but am desperate for more audio post 2/12/07. I did two shows at BIRDLAND and two shows at THE BEECHMAN. If anyone has any pirated audio from any of those four shows, please email me at dlc@donnalynnechamplin.com.

I have audio from those shows but there are holes here and there where tapes and CDs had to be changed because of length. I think if could cut and paste and clean up some pirated audio from you all, I'll be alright over here.

If I use any of your audio-

i'll be more than happy to thank you in the liner notes!!!

;-)

once again...

it takes a village.

every.

single.

frigging.

time.

don't it.

*sigh*

ah well.

God just doesn't like me to work alone, I guess.

Which is good.

;-)

THANKS IN ADVANCE FOR ANY HELP ANYONE CAN OFFER BY THE WAY OF FTH AUDIO POST FEBRUARY 2007.

stay warm, bunnies!

THE RANDY NEWMAN SONG part 2

2010-01-16T17:21:00.000-08:00

In my previous post--

I wrote about the 'why' of this song...

Now, I'm gonna write about the musical 'wherefore' of it.

This song...

called WHEN SHE LOVED ME-

is by the absolute genius, Randy Newman.

I can't really say even, why I connect so thoroughly and deeply to this man's work, but I do.

And if i had to choose one composer's songs to sing for the rest of my life, it would be Randy Newman.

I was first introduced to Randy Newman subconsciously as I fell in love with the movie scores of RAGTIME and AVALON.

However, I was first introduced to Randy Newman consciously as a freshman in college when the Junior Class did a 'black box' Randy Newman review in the 'studio theatre'.

Now, besides the fact that that particular class housed some of the most phenomenal vocal talent, like EVER.

To LIVE.

On this PLANET.

I'm talking Ty Taylor, Billy Porter, Natalie Belcon, Tami Tappan, Jack Plotnick...just to name afew of these amazing people.

The whole thing was done in vignettes, which was perfect, since every Randy Newman song really is an all-encompassing journey.

Newman (similarly to Sondheim), is first and foremost a story teller.

His songs have a purpose.

They take you somewhere.

They're like mini three-act plays.

You start a point A, make a discovery at point B, C and sometimes D-

and always end up at the end either back at point A with a new insight...

or at point F-Z...

because you've earned the right to be there.

because of him, you've travelled a very far way in only a short amount of time.

His music always fits the story, and the words, and the music is always STILL music.

Or rather, I should say 'tune-ful'.

There's always an actual TUNE in there.

That i think, is the ultimacy of his brilliance-

that...

he makes you feel like someone's just 'talking' to you...

but it's always very clearly a TUNE.

Anyway...

while i could go on and on about how Randy Newman is the shizzlet....

this post is about the song that he WROTE.

This song is from the movie TOY STORY II.

And it's sung by a doll.

About her relationship with the girl who's loved her and then subsequently outgrown her, and then loved her again.

Now.

To be perfectly frank, even though I love this song more than freshly baked chocolate chip cookies...

everyone friggin' records this song.

Everyone.

And...so again, I'm in the same position of having to ask myself,

"What's going to make my rendition of this song different or unique enough to WARRANT yet another recording of this song."

Yes...

it's a special song to me because it means 'grandma'-

but...

the average person listening to it isn't going to know about, let alone probably give two shits about why this song means 'grandma' to me.

All they're going to care about is whether it sucks, or not.

Whether they've 'heard it before', or not.

Whether it touches them, or not.

There is almost a glut of recordings of this song...

some of them buh-rilliant-

btw, run do not walk to buy the recording of Tami Tappan Damiano singing this on her solo album "Hot Notes" at:

http://www.amazon.com/Hot-Notes-Tami-Tappan-Damiano/dp/B0001Z5342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1263683621&sr=1-1)

aaaaaannnnnndddddd then there are just some God AWFUL renditions of this song out there.

which is...

all that needs to be said about that.

So....

optimistically hoping that, should i record this song, it won't suck...

I have to ask myself....

what about my rendition will make it worth recording.

And honestly...

I can't answer that.

And that's fucking weird for me because usually I've got an answer for everything.

All I can say is, that that 'voice' inside me-

which at this point i can't even tell is me or my grandma anymore-

keeps telling me to record it.

I decide to listen to the 30 second clips on Itunes to really get an idea of what's already 'out there' with this song.

Maybe if i hear what I am not...

I will know then, what i am with this song.

With the renditions that I love, the singers put the lyric ahead of the music. Which is to say, they tell the story of this song above all, and just let the music itself 'play out' naturally.

With the renditions that I absolutely fucking hate more than if I were stuck in a crate with 983827634 poisonous snakes in the holding tank of an aircraft flying from nyc toaustralia...

is when the singer has obviously decided it's a 'pretty tune' and ya know, what story? There's a story?

As the shitty renditions only serve to infuriate me-

because yes, i do get protective of certain songs as if they were my children...

as i am a single woman in her 30s living alone WITHOUT cats, thank you very much...

i decide to focus on the orchestrations of the renditions I dig.

Obviously, strings.

Many strings.

As strings are warm, lush, soulful and rich.

Sadly, strings....

i do not readily have.

Not that I can't add it to the list for jessica and elisa to play but...

like a 5 year old I have a tendency with song in particular to say,

"no, let meeeeeeeee...i can DO IT...bymySEEEELLLFFFF.".

but i give that part of me a 'time-out' and proceed to orchestrate it for two cellos and a violin.

I like the heft that the two cellos (instead of one) will give it.

in theory anyway.

And the violin adds the sweetness.

I work on this arrangement for...

3 hours.

maybe 4?

I use the strings patches in garageband just so i can get an idea of...

how it's going to sound.

I'm.....

not crazy about it.

which is weird, cause i loved the strings in the two versions I really dug on itunes.

the strings totally worked with their renditions.

why not mine?

I decide to do a random wild piano/vocal take.

I listen back.

It's so funny when you listen to yourself sing from the outside.

It's never what you think it's gonna sound like.

So incredibly weird, that.

It still sounds....fussy.

The piano part...

and i'm playing exactly what's written in the music.

Exactly what the other singers had...

but for some reason, when I sing it sounds...

well....

fussy.

Again, I'm totally miffed.

The other singers didn't sound 'fussy'.

The strings sounded like a perfect fit.

I try a new approach.

I try to not figure it out.

Fuck figuring it out.

Who's got time for that shit?

just...

experiment.

I do another wild piano/vocal track and pare down the piano part even more.

hmmmmmmmmmm....better.

i do another...

pare it down even more.

closer.

again, and again.

I literally pare it down until I'm almost just playing base chords underneath.

I'm shocked that I prefer this as...

some of the moving lines in the piano part are so unbelievably gorgeous...

i can't believe i'm not missing them.

but i don't.

and that's when i realize...

that's the reason I should record it.

because as far as I can tell...

it's never been recorded this "bare bones".

This is the way I need to do it.

Now.

If I was a NORMAL person...

with a normal set up...

and a normal accompanist...

i could lay this thing down in less 5 minutes in one take.

However, since I am all on my own over here...

how the FUCK am i going to....

time the piano to the vocal-

or the vocal to the piano.

if i play it as sparsely as i WANT to...

there's no rhyme or rhythm really in EITHER the vocal or the piano line.

it's not like i can record one-

and then accompany the other.

I realize that i have no choice but to record the whole thing-

completely acappella.

and hope to Christ i stay on pitch.

leave a mock piano intro-

grab the pitch...

and then......'go'....i guess.

So.

I go into the bathroom...

cut out the accompaniment right after the piano intro and then...

just sing it.

piano free.

string free.

just...

free.

i do one take...

which i honestly really dig and hope that I've remained on pitch-

beause i have no way of knowing that until i try to accompany myself on the piano later.

i do another just for good measure.

i bring the computer back out to the piano...

accompany myself, like i would any other singer...

and....

voila.

track #11.

literally, the shot in the dark.

THE RANDY NEWMAN SONG part 1

2010-01-16T15:06:00.001-08:00

As you all know by now, my grandmother has been a huge influence on this album.

She is my guardian angel...

and I have never felt her more strongly than when I was working on this whole thing.

And so...

besides The Parting Glass, I really wanted to do another song that 'represented' her in some way. And, while this song might not reflect on our relationship in the most 'unicorns and rainbows' kind of way...it absolutely encapsulates (at least the end of) our relationship in an extremely honest way.

Ya see, Timmy....

My grandmother and I have always had a very special bond.

I don't know why this is.

There are many reasons I suppose.

The main one being that my grandmother was psychic.

And not in the every-irish-family-has-a-fucking-psychic kinda way.

I mean, my brother would suprisingly go into the hospital for something at 10:00am and at 10:02am she's on the phone, greeting my mother with,

"What's wrong with Michael!??"

And they say that psychic power, while in all of us-

seems to 'skip a generation'.

And maybe, grandma and I bonded from literally, the moment i was born-

on a level that only dogs can hear...who knows.

I was born with my left eye crossed inward.

And the first thing my grandmother said when she saw me was not,

'Oh what a beautiful baby'

'Does she have all ten toes?'

Nope.

The first thing my grandmother said (with a new england accent of course) was,

"Aya. She's gawt the eye that looks within."

as apparently being cross-eyed is an old celtic sign of psychic ability, since you are able to look out and in at the same time.

Ergo, ever since birth really, grandma and I have been tight.

That is until.....

she started to lose her marbles.

it started when I was in high school, and unfortunately my dad was also losing his marbles at the same time. Since dad was a more immediate crazy-drain, in addition to the raging hormones and life and death angst that every teenager deals with-

I kinda used up all my 'dealing with insanity' energy on Dad and had none left really to give to grandma.

So, I stopped talking to her on the phone when she'd call-

granted, those conversations were more and more becoming about how 'they' were coming to get her-

and not the more enjoyable Hallmark grandma/grand daughter talk of...

crocheting-

or baking-

or bunnies-

or whatever.

We also stopped visiting her on holidays.

It was just too hard a prospect to leave one crazy house-

only to drive seven hours to go to another one.

Finally, I stopped sending her birthday and christmas cards altogether.

And so we grew apart.

And as I was a teenager, I'm sure i was less than graceful as to how far apart I actually put us. Honestly, it's all a blur but again, Dad's crazy was front and center...and her crazy was a whole bunch of states away in Massachusetts.

I was a sophomore in college when I heard that my grandmother had died.

And I'd had the most intensely vivid dream two nights before (which was when she'd first had the stroke and gone into a coma). It was so incredibly vivid that I'd written it down, which was not something I was in the habit of doing.

in the dream...

I was in an extremely crowded town square-

like, Tokyo crowded.

Ahead of me, standing out of reach at the opening of a church-

was a black man dressed all in black.

But i knew this man was good.

goodness, even.

Which struck me as odd as he was for some reason wearing the 'bad guy' couture line from a Billy Idol video.

behind me, I felt the crowd pushing me further towards an albino man dressed all in white.

And i knew this man was bad.

I reached out for the 'good black man' to help save me from the 'bad white man' I was being forced to by the crowd.

I felt myself forcibly backed up against the bad white man-

again, I looked to my good black man but he was gone.

I felt the bad white man grab something around my throat.

A necklace?

That's strange, i don't really wear jewelry, let alone necklaces.

Reflexively, I grab the necklace from the front-

and to prevent the bad white man from choking me with it, I rip it off with my hand from the front.

I look in my hand and on the necklace is....a bird?

Ok, this is really whacked out now because not only do i not wear necklaces, i fucking hate birds.

Hate 'em.

They freak me out.

Squawky, bitchy things.

i turn around to confront the bad white man, and there is the good black man in his place.

he smiles at me, a really warm smile-

and then I wake up.

When I write the dream out i actually sketch the bird...

and while i knew somewhere, it was an 'obvious' bird-

my general hatred for the entire species still left me confounded as to what type of bird it was.

Anyway.

My mom, brother and I all meet in Fall River, where my grandma lived with her second husband- an absolute brute of a man- to discuss a memorial, etc with the rest of the family.

Suffice it to say, it was a frustrating, infuriating and heartbreaking series of events over those three days in Fall River that left my mother in particular rather broken and guilt ridden.

I was desperate to do something to ease her mind.

I spewed out every single piece of New Age garbage combined with contemporary Christian bullshit I could at her...

"She's in a better place."

"She's not mad at us for not being there for her in the end."

"We'll light a candle for her and tell her how much we love her."

"She understands now."

"She's at peace now."

"She no longer thinks they're 'coming to get her' now."

"I'm sure she forgives us. She must."

and most importantly...

"She'll send us a sign that everything's ok. I know she will."

Because as hard as it was for me to be dealing with a crazy father and a crazy grandmother-

my mother had been dealing with a crazy husband and a crazy mother at the same time.

So if we're gonna talk about how hard it was for somebody, that whole dynamic?

My mom wins.

Hands down.

On our way out of town, it was of course, a massive thundering rainstorm.

We were all physically and emotionally exhausted....

and now, couldn't see two inches beyond the windshield.

awesome.

We passed a sign that said,

"TITANIC MUSEUM THIS WAY ---------->"

and my brother-

being an absolute FREAK about the Titanic (way before it was even remotely cool to be)-

begged us to stop.

It was fucking pissing down buckets-

already 3:45pm and we had a 7 hour drive ahead of us.

Clearly, we weren't going to....

"Sure.", my Mom says.

Without consulting the rest of the car.

And as if on cue....

the rain stopped.

Abruptly.

Like God just went up to the big ole faucet up there in heaven and shut it off.

and when we turned the corner towards the museum, a car pulled out leaving a parking space right in front of the exhibit door.

Admittedly, while I was amazed by all these things-

I was still 19 or 20 years old and was not allowed, by the youngsters guide to being a bitch to reveal it to anyone.

We went into the exhibit and i skulked, and moped, and pissed about...

just hoping the fact that the place was supposed to close in fifteen minutes would be enough for me to get away with such ridiculous behavior and not get too severely reprimanded for it.

as it happened, the owner had 'nothing better to do' so he kept the exhibit open for another hour as my mother and brother lllllliiinnnggggggeeeerrrreeeddddddd over everything.

Again, somewhere I appreciated how fantastic this was for my brother, who was obviously- dealing with a loss as great as mine...

but would never dare show it.

I could and would do everything in my power to make my mom happy right now, but my brother? Who I absolutely love with all my heart?

a quick glance once again through my handy dandy 'youngsters guide to being a bitch clearly states that as a sibling,

"he can suck it."

FINALLY...

mom and mike are ready to leave and just as i think we're out the door...

my mom goes to the fucking GIFT COUNTER.

I'm.

about.

to.

lose.

my.

shit.

just.

want.

to.

leave.

this.

stupid.

town.

so.

can.

get.

on.

with.

convincing.

myself.

i'm.

not.

horrible.

person.

I'm literally out the front door when I hear my mom yell after me,

"Do you want anything?"

"No, ma. I just want to get on the road, please."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh Jesus Christ.....YES, i'm SURE!"

"What about this?"

I stomp back to the gift counter, eyes rolling, arms flailing..

when I see what she has in her hand.

It's a necklace.

With a bird on it.

A seagull.

It is...

down to the chain...

the EXACT NECKLACE i'd dreamt about.

I have never done a more swift emotional 180 in my LIFE.

"Ma!!!! Why did you pick this necklace?"

"Well....i.....don't know....it...i really don't....know..."

"Ma!!!! That's GRANDMA TALKING!!! SHE FORGIVES US!!! IT'S THE SIGN!!! I TOLD YOU!!!!"

Now, everyone is just completely shocked.

Two seconds ago i was central casting's wet dream for THE BREAKFAST CLUB and now I'm a shoo-in for UP WITH PEOPLE.

I run out to the car-

rip open my bag-

pull out my notebook-

run back into the store-

flip to the page-

find the drawing of the bird-

and put the necklace on top of it.

it's as if I'd traced it.

it fits perfectly.

all of a sudden...

these words are spewing out of me.

I'm explaining the dream...

and how there's good and bad in everyone-

and even when you feel like it's got you by the throat....

the guilt can choke you worse than the action...

you can set yourself free...

like a bird...

like grandma is.

free.

finally.

After a couple of seconds...

i'm assuming after the shock of seeing me actually smile and speak multi-syllabically for the first time on months...

my mom began to cry.

but it was 'good' crying.

you know?

it was good.

And as i watched my mom actually believe what I was saying....

somewhere i thought, I wish...i could believe what I'm saying...as much as she is.

Because that's one of the craziest parts of the whole thing.

The whole diatribe that I spewed out to my mom?

About good and bad and freedom...

didn't come from me.

At least it didn't seem like it-

it came from grandma.

i hadn't put any of that shit together-

about the black man being good and the white man being bad-

but they're all the same guy really-

and things aren't what they seemed..

i mean, come on.

I was 20 years old.

I was barely making sense of the most recent 90210 episode.

so somewhere, grandma was speaking through me...

and I was still a spectator.

now.

as NUTS as that sounds....

and yes, I'm aware it sounds nuts.

which actually means...that i'm most likely not certifiably crazy...

stay with me.

cause there's more.

I went back to school...

still conflicted and wracked with guilt.

I saw my grandmother everywhere.

EVERYwhere.

I saw her in the opera I went to on campus where a young girl who couldn't have been more than 21 years old somehow looked exactly like my 65 yr old grandmother onstage- granted forgiveness to another young singer who looked exactly like me.

i saw her in TV commercials-

where wayward children are given a slight scolding but always forgiven by their loving mother who looks just like my grandmother did in her engagement photos.

I saw her on the street-

soothing a small child who's obviously misbehaved...

i heard her voice-

saying forgiving things....

and yet...

i refused to believe it was her because...

that's.

crazy.

yes?

And Lord knows, I'd had plenty of crazy in my life and I was absolutely NOT going to get on that train. It's too hard on everybody ELSE.

A week later, I was making some extra cash by playing cocktail hour piano at a local Marriott. On a break, I was just walking around and stretching my legs when I saw there was a random 'psychic fair' in the building.

I figured, it would be an entertaining time-killer so I started to walk around.

It was your basic psychic fair crap-

crystals, tarot cards, 'fortune-tellers', new age books....

so after about ten minutes, I started to head back to the bar for my next set.

That was when a woman literally grabbed me.

And then she said it.

What every new yorker who's ever walked down 9th avenue on a summer night has heard,

"Come here. I have something to TELL you."

ya huh.

ok.

sure you do.

I said,

"Lady, I'm a college student just trying to get by. I've got no money so..."

"No no no no no no.....this is for free. I have to tell you something."

"Ok then..."

"Your grandmother just died."

oof.

"uhm.....yeah."

"She wants me to tell you something...."

ouch.

"Yeah....?"

"She's been trying to talk to you for weeks......"

oh god. i don't want to hear it. she's going to tell me how horrible i am. what an awful grand daughter- no, HUMAN BEING i was for not sticking it out with her through the crazy. For being too weak to handle two of them at the same time.

For being.......cruel.

Because...I was.

I was cruel, because i had no skills to be any other way.

But regardless, I was cruel.

And...it was a very very hard lesson learned.

I said impatiently,

"Well.....WHAT!"

"Well, this is weird because....as a psychic....i usually have to point out the signs from the beyond...and explain those signs....but you. You see the signs and you even understand the signs....your grandmother is telling you to BELIEVE those signs. That is the messaage. "Believe"."

and she reached for the seagull necklace around my neck....

Now.

How does this relate to this Randy Newman song?

it's about someone who has been loved by someone...

and it was beautiful...

and then...

that person changed...

they 'went away'...

but then...

in the end-

they came back.

which was...is...how it is with my grandma and me.

She loved me-

she 'went away'-

and then she came back.

Because...

that's what love does.

It always comes back.

because, it never really goes anywhere.

it just...

changes form.

My grandma was sane-

then she was insane-

then...

she died...

and is 'sane' again.

I was loving-

then I was cruel-

then...

i asked forgiveness...

and was able to be loving once again.

But neither of us ever stopped loving the other.

Ever.

And we never will.

xoxo

OLD FRIENDS IS ONE OF TALKINBROADWAY'S TOP TEN ALBUMS OF 2009!

2010-01-14T13:08:00.000-08:00

YAY!!!!!

Thank you ROB LESTER!!

Sound Advice

Top 10 Vocal Albums of 2009

 Following last week's look at the year's outstanding cast albums, it's time for our annual consideration of the past year's best vocal albums among those submitted for review. The ten favorites below are listed in alphabetical order by artist's name (those with a collection of artists are then at the end). These albums include some I hadn't had a chance to write about during the year for one reason or another—but there are plenty of reasons to love them all. Let me explain why.

DONNA LYNNE CHAMPLIN OLD FRIENDS Parting Glass Productions

Released near the end of the year, theatre performer Donna Lynne Champlin's Old Friends becomes an instant new friend for these ears. Unusually riveting and emotionally raw, the singing and song choices are full of vulnerability, and the accompaniment is shorn of unnecessary frills, fuss or fakery. It's often a hushed tones/ bare bones affair, making some of the 15 tracks quite mesmerizing, but when she chooses to unleash the power of her voice, it's cathartic and/or thrilling.

I'm very taken by the unusual album whose $1000-budget, hand-made step-by-step creation, with the singer playing most of the instruments and doing her own vocal harmonies, with many of her own arrangements, was documented at length on her blog. The eclectic repertoire has great range—from the old favorite "Smile" to folk and traditional songs to theatre and film selections of rather recent vintage. But don't look for anything bouncy, frivolous or empty-headed. This is serious stuff: haunting, healing and hypnotic to be sure.

Almost every selection seems to create its own naked reality and sense of yearning. The country-flavored story song "Where've You Been?" could easily turn into a melodramatic soap opera but instead it is truly moving with its fragile world believable and intact. "Still Hurting" from Jason Robert Brown's The Last Five Years starts as quiet deflation and then its pain and rage builds without losing the sense of a close-to-the-flesh wound of memory. In the film song by Randy Newman, "When She Loved Me" (Toy Story II), the memories of a relationship when "everything was beautiful" are recalled in reverential tones and come across as much-missed treasured, times. Again, we can almost see the scars and tears. Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens' swirling "Once Upon a December" from the animated motion picture Anastasia is one of the "bigger" treatments and picks up the energy. Throughout the album, the power of little pauses and changes in dynamics is striking. The overriding impression is of a woman who has been hurt but is, under all that, unafraid to face life because either she has hope or knows there is no other choice but to hold on and to carry on.

One of the most unusual albums of the year, from a performer whose theatre resume shows range, too (from the Carol Burnett character in her memoir Hollywood Arms to the male character of Pirelli in the recent revival of Sweeney Todd), it's a moving listening experience.

BARNES & NOBLE CONCERT AND CD SIGNING!!! 2/10/10

2010-01-11T20:07:00.000-08:00

HEYA CATS AND KITTENS-

come on over to the BARNES & NOBLE at Lincoln Center in NYC on Wednesday February 10, 2010 at 6pm for a free mini-concert by yours truly, and then a CD signing. It's part of their ANY WEDNESDAY series!

This is so exciting for me-

and also terrifying because well....

what if no one shows up?

eemmmbbaarrraassssiiiinnnnnnnggggggggg.

Anyway-

just come by and say 'hi', even if you've already bought the album-

i'd really love your support!

more info at http://store-locator.barnesandnoble.com/event/3027079

Any Wednesday: Donna Lynne Champlin

CD Signing, Musical Performance
The new CD, Old Friends, was created in the bathroom of Donna Lynne's apartment with the Broadway singer providing her own instrumental backing. Come and hear her fascinating tale, as well as musical highlights from the CD.

Wednesday February 10, 2010 6:00 PM

Lincoln Triangle
1972 Broadway, New York, NY 10023, 212-595-6859

Invite a Friend
Add to Calendar

llc

THE ADOPTION SONG

2010-01-10T14:27:00.001-08:00

Heads up. This is not a blog post. This is a novella. So grab some tea and put on yer granny glasses, ya'll. Enjoy. Especially you, O'Malley.

**********

I'm letting the CIVIL WAR song have some "simmer time", as my mom says.

Simmer time is that break your brain needs when it's about ready to explode from focusing on something for too long? As a teenager, my mom would catch me up late a night choreographing a number for the show choir or something like a possessed freak and she'd say, 'Oh no. it's 3am. no more. simmer time. go to bed. it will be better in the morning. time to simmer simmer simmer.'

So I'm moving onto another song.

A much easier song in some aspects and trickier in others.

I'm calling this THE ADOPTION SONG because well, cryptic as i can be sometimes, it's actually about adoption.

I came across this song almost two years ago when I was asked to perform at a fund-raiser for a foundation that dealt with children. Wanting to make sure that my material was not only appropriate but beneficial to their evening of fund raising, as the result of some Googling, I learned that this particular foundation not only had an entire program dedicated to adopting and adopted children, but also assistance for the mothers who were considering giving their child up for adoption as well.

I realized that in my vast collection of music, I had absolutely nothing appropriate in regards to adoption specifically and I thought it might be fun to see what was out there.

So, I googled 'adoption' and 'songs' and pretty quickly this song by Michael McLean came up all over the place. Of course, Michael McLean is a big old fancy pants writer for the Christian music scene, but I'd never heard of him because I grew up in the musical theatre/classical music gold fish bowl that is my life.

A couple clicks later, I found a demo-ish recording of this song and i absolutely fell in LOVE with it. To seal the deal, as if that was needed...I found the sheet music online- as an absolutely free download. I figured this was all so incredibly easy, that it was a sign from the Gods that I should perform this number.

I prepared an arrangement for the stand up bass and drum player that were going to accompany me and soon became so excited about it, I made it the set closer.

Now.

I don't know if any of you have ever done these 'fund-raiser/live auction' things? But usually, they're just a nightmare. I've done quite a few of them and every time no matter how much I hope that it will be different…it never is. See, when you perform at one of these things- your audience is like one huge socio-scientific-experiment. And anyone who believes America is without a 'caste system', has clearly never been to a charitable foundation's silent auction fund raiser.

It's like living an abridged version of DAVID COPPERFIELD during a 3 hour acid-trip while riding the tea cups at Disneyland.

Every time...

every fucking time...

you end up performing for an astonishingly bi-polar combination of incredibly rude, rich, snobby sons of bitches who could give two shits about the actual cause they're supporting and are only there to socialize and get a drunken tax write-off...

and the handful of incredibly generous, polite, kind, financially strapped activists who are the heart and soul behind the foundation itself (who are about to have a collective stroke by listening extra hard to you with their eeeyyyeeessss to make up for the saloon-like behavior of the former).

At least that's how I've learned to look at it, because it's really the only way I can get through these things anymore without just ending it all with a full bathtub and a defective easy-bake oven.

Well, that and the pay.

Yes.

The pay.

I know.

Gross, right?

It feels offensive on some level just to write about getting paid for some sort of charity event. Because at a 'fund-raiser' to raise money for...children with AIDS, adoption, cancer, insert-very-worthy-cause-name-here...who, but a complete douche-o-rama would ever dare to even THINK of charging for their services.

Well.

Yes.

I agree.

In my heart, I agree.

Every time before I go do one of these fund raisers, I agree.

Ask me after.....

well...

One thing i should make clear though...in my mind, I absolutely DIFFERENTIATE between a 'benefit' and a 'fund raiser'.

Actually, let me just look up the definitions in the dictionary for both 'fund raiser' and 'benefit' to see if there really IS a legitimate difference between the two...or if it's just another thing I've conveniently created in my head.

be right back.

or as the kids say..."BRB".

******

insert Jeopardy music

******

ok.

yeah.

so.

apparently.

the difference between the two IS just in my head.

ok.

so...

right.

Allow me then, to explain...

To me a 'benefit' is when you personally know the people who are asking you, or you're involved with the cause itself, the barn's free so we're doing a show, kinda thing...anything that's associated with BCEFA (even if it is technically a 'silent auction')-

basically any event that does not make me want to end it all by jumping off a fucking bridge, in MY mind...is a 'benefit' and therefore not to be feared, like bedbugs or an unexplainable rash in your lady-garden.

And I do those for free.

Gladly.

Happily.

And more often than not, have a tremendous amount of fun doing it.

But when you’re dealing with a cold call from a random fund-raising gig? Or even worse, organizations and institutions that you think are safe (arts foundations themselves shockingly, are the worst)...basically, if their website ends in .org and it's not BCEFA…THAT my friends, is a "Fund Raiser" and you should proceed with extreme caution.

Because here's the deal.

You will be humiliated in some way shape or form on this gig.

And more often than not, you will be humiliated many different times and in many different ways, by many different people on this gig.

And any hope you might have of feeling like you're actually doing something philanthropic is quickly whipped out of you by the night's end when you realize that an escaped baboon from the zoo would have gotten the same exact respect that you did. Maybe more.

It is unavoidable.

Like tooth plaque.

Or sweatpants at K-mart.

Now as an actor...

humiliation is part of the job.

Sometimes, humiliation is the job so...

it's not even the ACTUAL humiliation that serves to erase any guilt from collecting a check at the end of the night.

I mean, please.

All of us have done dinner theatre.

All of us have driven a mini-van, only to get into costume in an elementary school classroom closet so that you can perform in a cafetorium.

WHICH IS FINE. As long as you know ahead of time no one's going to give a shit about you...it's a totally different ball game, and one that we actors sign on for regularly.

But.

At these 'fund-raiser/live-auction' things, you're always told and promised and sworn to that you will be treated with respect. And "of course" people will be listening to you and the "of course" the situation of the room will be conducive to you not feeling like you've just taken 800 steps back in your career, forcing you to reconsider whether you have any talent at all.

So, it's the bait and switch of these things that just really ends up chapping your ass. It's fine if you're billed as the background and end up getting treated as such. That's business as usual. BUT....if you're billed as a star-

with the understanding that everyone at that event has been told you're a star (regardless of whether you actually are one, or not)-

and then they STILL treat you like shit...

that is a humiliation you absolutely MUST get paid for.

No joke.

These people have absolutely no moral compass, and it applies to everyone.

I have heard people drunkenly YELLING to each other about a polo game DURING a poetry reading by James Earl Jones. I have seen people walk out, ROWDILY, like they were at a football game, while Renee Fleming was SINGING. I have witnessed a sloshy pinch and tickle at a table turn into a full out brawl while George Lucas was giving an acceptance speech.

George.

Fucking.

Lucas, people.

I mean, you would at least think that George Lucas has enough money to garner some respect from these people but...nope. If you're up on that stage, in any kind of artistic capacity...you're pretty much worthless.

And no one EVER calls them on it.

No one ever says, "Uhm.....excuse me, you rude mother fuckers...do you MIND? Mother Theresa's up here trying to SAY something about children with no spinal cords...." and it makes no sense at all to me because the true-hearted organizers are always mor-ti-fied.

Always.

You can see it in their eyes as you watch them inch closer and closer to the stage, as if to mentally wipe the egg-omelette-frittatta-quiche cassarole off of your face. They're eyes become apologetically wild as if to telepathically transmit to you that they're so sorry and can't believe it's happening either.

Maybe that's it.

Maybe, no one ever bitch-slaps these idiots because they truly can't believe that someone is ACTUALLY being rude to Renee Fleming. So they shut their eyes and wait to wake up...aannnyy mmiinnuuttee now.

Either that, or those people are so incredibly fucking rich that, yeah...apparently they can behave whatever they want and will never ever get punched in the face for it. Good God, that must mean that they're richer than George Lucas.

Holy shitballs.

I didn't think anyone was richer than George Lucas.

My entire world has just collapsed.

Ok.

SO.

What the hell does ALL this shit about fund-raisers have to do with this song about adoption?

I'm getting to that...i promise.

This fund-raiser that I had planned to sing this song at was indeed, the usual exercise in humiliation.

But worse.

Because of weather, my first flight in (the night before) was cancelled. So after a lovely evening in the airport and about two classy hours in the complimentary hotel I was forced to fly in the day of. Which suuuucccckkkked. Not even so much for the travelling stress but more so for the endless panicked phone calls from my 'point person' for the event, who has already become completely unhinged.

This 'point person' is always some terrifyingly, beyond tightly wound, socialite-ish woman, with negative body fat, shoulder length blonde hair, perfectly manicured nails and underneath all the porcupiney prickliness, has incredibly good intentions but is always in way too over her head to be anything but a bitch.

or-

a fetus of an intern who is annoyingly and innocently ignorant of the dog-and-pony show about to happen and is also always in way too over her head to be anything but a dearth of information. Like a black hole where the only words spoken are "like", "uhm", and "i don't know".

My heart always goes out to these ladies...

at first.

So.

I finally fly in.

I head straight the event site with all my crap because there's no time before the rehearsal with the band. The band that I had to write arrangements for (for free) even though I really tried to convince them just a piano would do.

I am greeted by 'the point person' (now known as 'the queen bee') because you immediately feel like you've just walked into an active bee-hive that's just sniffed an enormous collective line of coke.

There are the harried 'hellos', the double takes at my 'travel clothes' and the inevitable snarky remarks about my agent (who I am already mentally thanking for getting me my fee, as it is already clear that I will be earning every penny).

The band is always about 40 minutes late- which would be fine, except that's 40 more minutes that Queen Bee has to fucking freak out all over my shit. And put me to some manual labor, which runs from putting place cards at table settings, to moving heavy furniture because clearly, every actor looks like a maid or a moving man who's forgotten to wear their uniform.

It's our 'vibe', I guess.

The band arrives and non-chalantly takes another 30 minutes to set up, leaving us with 40 minutes total, to rehearse a 35 minute set. Also, they never got the charts I emailed, faxed and sent in the mail- because they never do-so I pull out all the copies of the charts from my bag because....I've done this before.

The rehearsal is always the best part of the day because the musos are in the same boat as you are and they're just relieved when you tell them,

"Fuck the charts if you want. As long as we start and end up in the same place, I'm good. let's just have a good time."

Then.

The Queen Bee has an issue one of my songs.

Becuase the Queen Bee ALWAYS has an issue with something that you've discussed at length via 8763409872-985072387623409873458762349578623495 emails, phone calls, faxes prior to you're even getting on the plane.

I bring out my book...because I've done this before, and let her pick something.

She picks something UNBELIEVABLY inappropriate to the event, but I just nod and say "ok", tell the band what key it's in and plan to wing it. The Queen Bee is always shocked and ironically never placated by this move, because it's almost as if she's pissed at me for taking AWAY something for her to be pissed at me about. Because really, she's been pissed at me from the very beginning when I made her go through my agent who insisted she pay me in the first place.

Not to mention, The Queen Bee always commands a hefty sum for whatever coordination title she's made up for herself, so I make it a rule to never really fall for the guilt trip here.

Band rehearsal is over.

And I now have about 3 hours to kill because they're finishing setting up the space, there's no one available to drive me to the hotel and I'm not going to get stuck paying for a cab both ways. Plus the downtown of this city is, as per usual...dead and dangerous so...there's nowhere to go really, and nothing to eat.

I figure I can at least take a nap somewhere in this building so I ask the Queen Bee where my 'dressing room' is-

that my agent negotiated in writing-

along with food.

and water.

and The Queen Bee looks at me in a spazzy kind of "what are you bothering me about now" kind of way.

I ask her again, where my dressing room is so I can at least put my bags somewhere and lie down.

She mentions something about a pass, and then sends me on a wild goose chase to find someone else who, I'm pretty sure, doesn't even exist. I figure, 'fuck it' and I start wandering the building. Of course, it's a building in the midst of construction so...there really is absolutely no place to go that I won't get white dust all over me...or nails up my ass.

So.

Tired.

I find a quiet corner in the ballroom and put a couple chairs together to take a nap.

In about 40 minutes I'm rousted vigorously by someone who thinks I'm there to cater.

Again.

'actor' = 'caterer'.

I explain who I am and the guy is nice enough to fix me a plate of what the catering company has just brought in for the event.

I take it, along with all my bags, like a homeless freak and once again scour the building for some place, any place to just sit away from the crazy Queen Bee and all the event preparations.

I go up on another floor and as I'm wandering around this floor that really looks post-apocolyptical, swear to God, I see a lone light down at the end of the floor.

It's......a bathroom.

And not only that...

it's a women's bathroom.

hallelujia.

It's covered in white dust, like everything else but at this point I don't care.

I take out my gown and hang it up on a stall, lay my garment bag down on the floor, set my phone alarm and take a nap.

Next thing I know, I feel this poking in my side.

it's security.

he literally, thinks I'm homeless.

"Hey. You can't sleep here. You can't be in this building. You have to go."

I try to explain,

"No i'm here for the event. I'm...I'm....the entertainment....I...see? That's my gown...over there..."

he's not buying it.

"Listen, let me just call (The Queen Bee)...hold on..."

No answer. Of course, no answer- as she's probably buried beneath a pile of flourescent tulle to go along with the hideous decor downstairs or screaming at some poor waitress for breathing.

It's then, that I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

oh my God.

No WONDER this cop doesn't believe me.

I'm in my 'travelling clothes', my hair is all over the place, and i'm covered-

COVERED in white dust.

It also doesn't help that I'm wearing my favorite jacket of all time, a beaten up, worn down and admittedly filthy show jacket from when I did HOLLYWOOD ARMS in Chicago at the Goodman.

I look like, something from National Geographic.

He insists on 'escorting' me out of the building.

"No! Nononononoooo, i swear to God I belong here...."

"Where's your pass?"

"My what?"

"Your pass. Every vendor here has a pass, where's your pass."

"I. Oh shit...I never got a pass...."

next thing i know he is hoisting me up by my arm...

He at least lets me get my 'bags' together...

however, he makes me leave the dress.

Because obviously...that's not mine.

even more weirdly, he leaves it hanging there on the stall like...the rightful owner will surely be back soon to claim it. Up here. In Babylon 5. With an hour to the beginning of the benefit.

and it's a shame that I apparently left my shopping cart at the shelter...

of course, the more i scramble to get my stuff, the more Lord of the Flies I look. I start to literally, laugh- at the irony of it, which of course only serves to make me look MORE insane and next thing I know we're in the elevator and he's pressed the ground floor button.

But the event is on 2!, i think.

Of course, I think this to myself this but I don't actually say it out loud because..

i dont know.

I'm exhausted, and still thinking I might be starring in the punk'd version of The Blade Runner somewhere. So wordlessly, I claw at the elevator buttons to press 2. Thinking that if i can just get to the 2nd floor and find the Queen Bee, everything will be fine.

This, I realize as I do it...is a really really bad idea as I've now moved from the Lord of the Flies costume shop to some serious Silence of the Lambs choreography.

He grabs my arm as in, Hey crazy...don't make me shoot you.

Next thing I know...

I'm out on the street.

In the freezing winter.

Locked out.

Of the event that I was supposed to be 'starring' in in....i look at my phone...T-minus 45 minutes.

Holy fuck.

ok.

what do i do?

I can wait for people to come to the event but...I look like someone who might actually mug them so....that won't work.

I can try to get the attention of anyone downstairs at a table but...

that cop is still standing there at the door.

As if he's reading my mind.

FUCK.

Oh my God, this is INSANE.

it's then that I remember, that I actually KNEW someone coming to this thing, as a guest.

it was my only way back in the building.

I called them on my phone and they answered! Praise Jesus!

After they stopped laughing.

Which took a long, long, long. LONG time.

They agreed to get there as early as possible in the hopes of getting me back in.

Again, I'm downtown and it's dead and dangerous.

I see a random 7-11 a couple blocks down and tell them I'll be waiting in there where it's warm but to please hurry as I not only have to sing now, in less than an hour but I have to somehow LOOK somewhat presentable which at this point...i would need a chisel and a blowtorch to do.

15 minutes later they pull up.

'GET ME IN THAT FUCKING BUILDING!', I scream as I jump in the backseat. We pull up to the event door, my friend gets out of the car with me and this husband goes to park the car. The security guard is no longer there, thank the Lord and we breeze over to the elevators, nod to the other event goers who clearly are not impressed with my red carpet look, and press #2.

Ahhhh, sweet sweet #2.

The elevator doors open and we walk up to the table set up to receive the guests. My friend grabbed my hand as if i was a princess and announced to the extremely shocked woman-in-charge-of-the-name-tags,

"I'm so-and-so and I'd like to introduce you to my date, and your star for the evening, Donna Lynne Champlin".

yup.

Just like that.

jackass.

She paused in slight horror and as I pointed to the SIGN she was literally sitting next to with my big fat FACE on it I said,

"Look, it's a long story, can you please just get me back up to the 5th floor so i can get ready? And can I please have an escort? Like, for ever. Until I die?"

Immediately I'm up on the 5th floor...giving myself the fastest whore's bath in history...the white dust is just everywhere so I dunk my head in the sink and 'slick' down my hair which now had a very undistinguished sort of malaise-y color to it. Now that I don't look like a homeless person any more, I send my escort back downstairs to find the Queen Bee and let her know that I'm going to be ready in a matter of minutes.

As she runs down the hall, I throw on my gown, which is still hanging there on the stall. Spray down my wet hair, tell myself I look "New York Chic" and grab my phone.

It's exactly 7:30pm and I've got no minutes to spare...

i get to the elevators....

they're taking forever...

probably lots of late comers to the event...

fuck...

STAIRS! I run to the stairs...

WITH all my shit again because Lord knows I'm not leaving anything up here...

Run down the stair to the 2nd floor.

Locked.

oh come on....

you KNEW that was coming.

of course.

Locked.

MOTHER FUCKER!!!!

I'm in heels, and a gown and carrying two huge fucking bags-

SCREW going back upstairs.

I just start banging on the door, for JESUS.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BABABABABABABABBABABABAAAAAAANG!

Finally, a very terrified looking waiter opens the door.

I race to the event area...

Queen Bee is OUT OF HER MIND now.

"I've been looking EVERYWHERE for you!!!! Where have you BEEN??!!!"

obviously, she didn't look everywhere... slurpee, anyone?

"Yes, well...if you'll SEE I called you like 98727846234098234 times..."

"Well! That's fine. You're here NOW."

"Yeah, ok so...I'm opening this sucker, right? Let's go."

"Well that's what I needed to tell you. We've moved your set."

"You. what?"

"We moved your set."

"To. Where."

"You'll be following the silent auction now."

"Ohhhhhh Jeeesssuussss. Noooooooo..."

You see, at these fund raisers, where you are in the evening has a huge effect on the humiliation factor. Because I've done these before, my agent had negotiated that my set be BEFORE the silent auction. This is vital because AFTER the silent auction, everyone is drunk, belligerent and leaving. Noisily.

"But....I'm HERE now and....it's only 7:35pm...you haven't even started yet...I'm only 5 minutes late....I can do the set right now..."

Her eyes instantly bug out and she screams,

"WE! HAVE MOVED! YOUR SET! TO AFTER! THE! SILENT! AUCTION!!"

wow.

"Fine. Perfect. How much longer is that then."

"Another two hours."

"Another TWO hours???!!!"

She looks at me with murderous glassy eyeballs....and I toy with the idea of screaming right back at HER with the details of my evening up until now, but realize that she might...indeed....kill me.

"Awesome. Where's the bar."

Finally, two and a half hours and three glasses of white wine later, they introduce me.

I stroll up and shout my introduction over the din. No one can hear me. No one cares.

oohhhhh fuck them, i thought.

I do my next song which is of course, very quiet and intimate and I can't even hear the band behind me so...I'm pretty sure no one out there can hear me. And even though the first two tables are once again stacked with the real, good-hearted worker bees of this foundation, I still thought,

fuckety fuck fuck mc fuckersons FUCK them. I just don't care.

I go through the next 3 songs, over the yelling and the loud laughing and the glasses breaking....and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere...

I got really really really angry.

Because it was time to sing THE ADOPTION SONG.

And all of a sudden....I cared.

And all of a sudden...I really really cared a lot.

I had gotten used to them being rude to me...I had expected them to be rude to me but, I hadn't thought about how I would feel when they were rude to my favorite new song. I was about to put this really amazingly wonderful and powerful song in front of this firing squad and I immediately became fiercely protective of it. And I realized that part of why I loved this song was that it absolutely perfect for this really wonderful charity for adopted kids. And what about this one woman in the front who looked like Betty White. This obviously gentle soul who has been so overly-attentive to my whole set. She obviously, belongs to this honorable foundation in some personal way.

I barely heard the band start the intro into THE ADOPTION SONG because inside my brain, this one woman's life flashed before my eyes. In 16 bars, I imagined every possible way she might be connected to this foundation. She's a foster mom. She's adopted herself. She gave up a child for adoption. In 16 bars, all of these possibilities of how this woman came to be here, tonight, sitting right in front of me at this event...

and then, the sound of those fucking nutbar BASTARDS over there came CRASHING down on my daydream. Those yam sackers by the bar...by the door....by the auction table...by the...what the fuck...is that a TV on over there?....with some football GAME ON??!!!!!!

That was it.

I became livid.

But strangely, not for me.

For this song.

And for her.

All of a sudden, the humiliation wasn't mine anymore...it was this song's humiliation. It was this cause's humiliation. It was this woman's humiliation. It was this woman's story's humiliation.

And that was it.

I'd had it.

I wave off the band yell really, REALLY loudly over the mike a la Bridget Jones,

"Hey! HHHHEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!! LISTEN FOR A SECOND! YEAH....YOU....ALL OF YOU LOUD PEOPLE OVER AT THE BAR. YES. YOU!!!! REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY LOUD PEOPLE!!! HEY!!!! FOR ONE SECOND..........BE! QUIET! PLEASE!"

and for the first time in the history of fund raisers around the world...

there was absolute silence.

i...froze.

didn't know what to do.

i didn't actually think they'd be quiet.

they're never quiet.

holy.

shit.

i quickly gather myself.

"Yeah. Uhm...thanks. Listen. Well, actually....you don't have to listen to ME, ironically...and that's cool. It really is. Because this event is not about me. It's about adoption. And it's about kids. And it's about the people here who really give a damn about where that money that you just put down for some spa weekend somewhere GOES so....please. I have one song left. And. I really think you should listen to IT. It's about adoption. Which is....why we're all supposed to be here. And I really think at least these nice people here in front will really dig it so. If you could just....keep it down over there so they can actually listen to the song, I guess? That would be awesome. Thanks."

and i looked at my sweet little Betty White in the front.

and she winked at me.

And then we kissed.

No.

we didn't kiss.

i'm joking.

then I told the band to start again.

And i sang this song.

Now.

What would make this story perfect is if I told you that by the power of this song alone the whole place was silent, and you could hear a pin drop, and everyone was moved to tears....

but.

alas.

not so much.

those jagoffs at the bar were a little quieter, but not by much honestly.

however, this sweet looking lady in the front row.

she was able to hear every word of these glorious lyrics.

and I didn't have to strain, or overplay it.

I was just allowed to sing the song as it should be sung.

Simply, plaintively and honestly.

and she cried.

in fact, her whole table was crying.

make that...both tables.

of foundation people.

crying.

touched.

moved.

by this song.

I finished the set to a little more than a smattering of applause- which when you consider over 3/4rs of the room wasn't even aware that I was even singing in the first place- wasn't all that bad.

It was time to escape.

Run.

Run for the HIILLLSSSS.

before the Queen Bee could come find me and tear me a new one for telling her rich guests to shut the fuck up.

I raced to my ash covered pile of bags that I'd stashed behind a random abandoned bar at the far end of the room and practically french kissed the bass player when he offered to drive me to the hotel. I replaced my heels with my sneakers, put my jacket on and headed out the door...

when the lady from the front row came up to me.

still in tears.

"Where did you get that......magnificent.....song? I can't believe I've never heard it. In all my years of working in this field..."

I reached into my backpack and handed her the sheet music.

"Here. It's by Michael McLean. You can have it. Please. Take it."

"Thank you."

"No problem, i have it on my computer at home..."

"No. I mean, thank you for....standing up for us. For the foundation. For what we do."

"Oh.....well.........sure. I mean....you know. Of course. You're welcome."

"You know. It's crazy but, I haven't really cried like that in 20 years when I...gave up...my baby for adoption."

"Oh. Wow. Well. Yes...i can imagine..."

"Is there a recording of it?"

"Well, there's a recording, kinda, online...."

out of the corner of my eye i see the bassist gesturing to me like a manic cowboy waving down a rodeo clown...i try to give him an 'I'm coming' high sign without being rude to Betty...and oh dear god, there's the Queen Bee....headed straight for me....must go must RUN...

"No. I mean...is there a recording of you singing it?"

"Oh God no. I mean. No. i don't have a solo....no."

"Promise me, you will record this song on your first album." and then she pressed her card in my hand and said, "and please, please send it to me."

"Oh...well. I'm sure there ARE wonderful recordings out there...of other people singing this song...i mean, it could be years before i ever..."

"No. I want to hear YOU sing it. Because I want to remember...."

"uhm...i really have to..."

"....the night someone actually told those RICH SNOBBY MOTHER FUCKERS TO SHUT. the HELL. UP. FOR ONCE! JESUS CHRIST I HATE THEM. But I love their money."

in that moment, everything evaporated but me and my sweet Betty White.

Queen Bee, the bassist, everything.

Evaporated.

We became one.

and then.

we kissed.

no we didn't.

i'm joking.

But.

How fucking AWESOME WAS THAT WOMAN?

And how fucking AWESOME did that whole night turn out to be?

I felt so CLEAN!

So.....genuinely PHILANTHROPIC!

Obviously, after that- I had no choice but to hand her the check for my fee that the Queen Bee had shoved in my drunken, sweaty hand at some point that evening.

I mean.

NO choice.

whatsoever.

Because unbeknownst to me this 'fund raiser' ended up being a 'benefit' after all.

and i do those for free.

xoxo

*this post is dedicated to K.O.

THE PARTING GLASS

2010-01-10T14:25:00.001-08:00

This.....

is an extremely special song for me for many reasons.

This song is one of the reasons why my grandma's picture is on the front cover of my CD...

this song is also the reason I got my first Broadway show...

and this song is also the name of new production company Parting Glass Productions.

My grandma used to sing this song to me.

And the weird thing is....

I don't have any clear or crisp actual memory- of her singing this song....

I don't have any visual snapshot of her....

any vivid moment in time where time stopped and I can 'remember it as if it were yesterday'...

like when she would point to the moon and ask me if I saw the man and woman kissing...

or when i would sit on her lap and she would draw exotic giraffes so beautifully...

or when I'd run up to her duster as she rolled up in the driveway to visit after a long drive from Massachusetts and I'd gulp down the scent of her perfume...

Lord knows what it was actually called, but it was collectively known around the family as "grandma sachet". The name I had given it at around the age of four.)

But I know she sang this song to me as a lullabye because I can hear her voice in my mind-

all distant and watery, as if it were funneled through a snow globe.

But it's there.

My grandma's spiritual presence has been with me since very very soon after her death. In dreams, in feelings, she's woken me up just in time to catch a flight and she once got a psychic to chase me down in a hotel to give me a message. Her ashes are now in Jamaica thanks to a radio essay contest I entered because I heard her voice tell me as I was driving that I would win it. But I would win it solely to bring her ashes there.

And I won it.

And her ashes were spread in Jamaica.

So I don't care if ya'll think I'm crazy?

My grandmother in many ways is more present in my life during her death, than she was when she was alive. She comes and goes, as spirits do...but when she's near me, there's no doubt about it. And during this whole CD recording experience she has literally had her mail forwarded to my apartment and set up shop.

In a way, this album is as much hers as it is mine.

But I digress...

back to Parting Glass.

I also perform this song as the encore to my one-woman show Finishing The Hat, for two reasons:

1) As a standard Irish Pub 'closer', it's a kick-ass traditional tie up of an evening of singing and storytelling, as well as being part 'thank you' and part 'blessing'.

2) The song itself is integral to how I got my Broadway debut in James Joyce's The Dead, and a result- a really good story.

Shall I tell it?

I think I shall.

In fact, I told this story in an interview for BroadwayWorld's a few years ago...

allow me to cut and paste-ish.

I was having lunch with my CMU college buddy Emily Skinner who was doing James Joyce's The Dead at Playwrights Off Bway and they were planning to move it to Broadway. She mentioned that she and Alice (Ripley) would most likely need a cover and that I should get my agents on it. They tried like hell to get me in, but with no Broadway credits on my resume and not to mention Alice and Em having recent SIDESHOW joint covers coming out their ass, it didn’t bode well for me.

My agents called me a week later and asked if there was any way to go through Emily because they’d done all they could. So I left her a message basically saying,

“Hey Em, here’s the deal- if there’s anything you can do that would be great- and if this is just a totally jerky thing for me to even ask in the first place then just tell me to fuck off and that will be fine too.”

God bless her- she went up to the director (Richard Nelson) that night at the show, and explained that I should come in and audition. Then, she added,

"My only request is that when you offer her the job, that you let me call her.”

Friggin' awesome move but....all the more pressure on me to not suck.

I get an appointment for the very next day.

The night before, I have an hour long phone conversation with both Alice and Emily after our respective shows- where they graciously and generously explained the show and their scenes- and advised me to be 'as Irish as possible'. The next day, I fortify my celtic-ness with a bowl of wheatabix, a brief prayer to Grandma, my audition book, and I head to my audition.

As I walk into the waiting area, my heart sinks.

Mutant Alice/Em look alikes are everywhere. Blonde hair, tall, gorgeous creatures with perfect little pointy noses all around and then there's me. Short, freckled, red-haired, pug-nosed, stocky and Irish. I believe I thought the very same thing every Jewish actor thought when auditioning for the recent Fiddly on the Roof revival which was,

I'm fucked.

I also hear the songs being sung in the room behind the 'magic door' and they’re NOTHING like the traditional Irish pub song of Parting Glass that Em and Alice had talked me into bringing. Actually, INSISTED on me bringing.

I try not to panic.

I fail miserably.

I walk in and go quickly over to the accompanist and say,

"Here’s my piece…it’s really really Irish.”

"That’s great.”

"No you don’t understand, it’s like a 'Fuck you I’m fucking Irish', song.”

“No really," (insert look that implies 'please don't shank me, crazy') "that’s great.”

So.

I sing Parting Glass.

Vocally, I was suh-LAM-min'.

Texturally....

I pretty much forgot and mish-mashed up the words so bad I was pretty sure instead of saying,

"Goodnight and God be with you all"

I went more along route of,

"The wind is in the buffalo as I go to the corner store of bicycle dreams to buy some absynthe. Anybody need anything while I'm out?"

As expected, there was absolutely no reaction whatsoever from behind the table-which consisted of about 20 Irish people who probably grew up with that song sung by their grandmothers as well-looking at me with completely blank stares.

Yeah.

Not the crowd to mess up the lyrics to a famous pub closer in front of.

Awesome.

Then it came time to read.

I did my first scene for Alice’s character- and there was no reaction.

I did my second scene for Em’s character- and there was no reaction.

I slunk out of the room clumsily at the end, and left Em a message saying,

“Girl, I went in there but I have NO idea how I did. None. I did some great work, and I made some mistakes and honestly, I have no idea how this is going to go down. I just hope I didn’t embarrass you. Thanks for sticking your neck out for me, regardless.”

And I put it in my little pink balloon, and just let it all float away. It was over. And I had my own show to do.

The next day, during the intermission of my Off Bway show- the young and slightly rabid Sideshow fan who ran our box office down at The Cherry Lane ran up to me so incredibly freaked out with ecstacy that he had,

"...just...spoken...to....

THE...Emily.....Skinner....

oh....my...God....how....

do...you....KNOW....

THE...Emily....Skinner..."

that he almost forgot to give me the message he'd written on a light-blue post-it note which read:

"YOU GOT THE JOB!"

Yup.

I still have that message in a frame on my wall,

“You got the job”.

Four of the sweetest words in the English language.

That night I lit another candle for Grandma. Thanking her for whatever strings she clearly pulled up there.

And so, ever since then Parting Glass has really cemented itself in my life as not only a warm, fuzzy memory of my Grandma, but also as my undeniable (forgive the pun)...Lucky Charm.

Now-

let's talk music.

technically my challenge with this song in particular was not to blow my big chance at reallyallowing other people to hear what I hear in my head when I singthis song publicly (with just apiano and nothing else).

In my mind's ear, I always heard a sort of a "Riverdance" (the cool musical parts of Riverdance, not the cheesy shlocky shit) meets the Clancy Brothers (if they had access to Garage Band)kinda thing.

I wanted to create an atmosphere with this song.

I wanted weight to it.

More weight- sustained weight- than piano can really provide.

Only strings could provide the consistent heft I wanted.

Low, humming, resonating open 5th strings on the bottom...

that speak of history, and moors, and alcoholism throughout centuries.

But I really wanted that Braveheart kinda feel...

forgetting of course, that William Wallace was actually Scottish.

So.

I set to work.

I started with the low open 5ths down in the basement.

HHHUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

oh yes.

DE-LICIOUS!

Then came the task of playing the tin-whistle over it.

Yes. It was time to actually learn how to play the tin-whistle, bought as my very first purchase when starting this adventure. The first lesson being that tin-whistles apparently come in their own keys. Handily, I knew this song was in D so, I got a D major tin-whistle hoping that, it was indeed that easy.

What I was going for was...to somehow translate an emotional and visual scene in my head...musically.

Like the open strings were a blue-gray-purple foggy dusk right before dawn...

and the tin-whistle is the first bird that dares to fly through it all.

I had the foggy morning....

so here biride, birdie, birdie....

Ok.

Being a flute player, and having played recorder as a youth, fingering was no problem.

I used 'recorder' breathing which is basically hardly any breath at all.

When you play recorder the trick is to NOT 'over-blow' lest you get that HORRIBLE ske-WANK! sound that just kinda peels your eyelids off.

huh.

it sounds very...

wobbly.

and quite frankly, totally pussy-fied.

wtf.

Is this thing a recorder or a flute or what?

I figure I'll try using more of a 'piccolo' (ie lungs of steel) kind of breath.

WOAH!!! NELLY!!!!

HOLY FUCK.

well.

there's the SOUND but Jesus H...

it's LOUD!!!

like--- sonic-boom loud.

Like crashing through time, loud.

who would have thought?

such a tiny instrument would be so mother FUCKING loud?

oof.

and PIERCING.

painfully piercing.

Immediately I'm glad it's in the afternoon because no DOUBT this will have my neighbors calling security at any moment.

Ok i gotta wok FAST as I psychically feel them all reaching for their phones with every note i play.

I put on my earphones just so i can stand it.

Oh LORD!

LOUD. LOUD. LOUD. LOUD. LOUD!

I have a House moment where I imagine the sound wave as a bullet racing through my earcavities to my brain wher upon contact it literally explodes and then I wake up to see a scragglyHugh Laureie looking over me with a disgusted look on his face.

i put on EARPLUGS underneath the EARPHONES...

whew.

bearable.

now i can at least differentiate pitches.

I have no time to lose...

i immediately start recording.

Everything.

I just press record and play whatever I can get out-

licks, melodies, imagined sustains, imagined everything...

i play with 'pitch fall offs'- where you allow the pitch of the note to sort of wail downward as you gradually give less breath, but still enough to maintain some sort of sound.

this ONE take ends up being 12 minutes and 43 seconds long before there's a knock on my door.

*fuck*

Security.

He asks me to keep it down.

I say, 'of course'.

He leaves and I hope and pray that I have enough 'tin-whistle-age' in 12 minutes to be able to scatter throughout this 3 minute song.

I keep working on the piece as quietly as possible.

This is where orchestrating on the keyboard is awesome because with headphones, I can have an entire orchestra in my ears, and there's NO sound whatsoever anywhere else.

I have the practice track piano in there...

I take a risk and put in the accordion track (hoping that since no one had complained about the accordion before it's on a frequency less annoying than the whistle was).

So far so good.

I take the tin whistle, put the sound level down and add almost enough reverb to drown it to death. it sounds more and more far away. Excellent.

I now have low strings, tin whistle, piano and accordion.

I.........

like it....

but...

i don't love it.

There's something wrong with it.

I can't put my finger on it.

I take the piano out.

no...

i put the piano back in.

I take the accordion out.

no...

i put the accordion back in.

I record a flute part...

no...

i take the flute part out.

something's....

grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

i hate not knowing what's wrong with something.

So annoying.

*sigh*

I put it away until Andy, the bf, comes over.

Andy has been up until this point serving mostly as my vocal producer....

but I am going to ask him what he thinks of these musical orchestrations because...

i'm absolutely stumped.

And as he's been absolutely brilliant in the vocal producing...

I trust him.

Which I can probably say that about 5 people on the planet.

this was supposed to be a no-brainer orchestration.

i've heard these orchestrations in my head for literally decades.

At 11:30pm, Andy comes over after his show and before he can even take his coat off I've practically shoved the ear phones on his head.

"Please listen to this...it's making me crazy...what's wrong with it?"

Andy sits on the couch and after only 8 bars of intro, he takes the headphones off.

"It's the low strings. They're too much. It sounds like JAWS."

I'm sorry....erm, WHAT?

"My low strings? My awesome BRAVEHEART, foggy moors low strings are the problem? Uhm, i don't think so."

"I'm telling you, I'm afraid some shark is going to come out and bite my leg off."

"You're wrong."

"Look, the low strings resonate deep in the chest....Parting Glass isn't this heavy...the low strings make it sound ominous."

"But you don't get it."

"Why?"

"Cause you're Jewish. It's an Irish thing."

"It's the strings."

"Ok. Fine. Here's what I'll do. I'll double the low strings, same notes, but octaves higher. Ok? I'll compromise. I get the low strings and you get your high strings."

"Do what you want. I'm telling you, you need to get rid of the low strings entirely."

Extremely put out that he would even dare criticise clearly the best part of this arrangement, I doubled the strings octaves higher. Hoping to round out the 'ominousness' that i still think you'd have to be on some sorta Hebrew Hashish to hear.

30 minutes later I bring him the laptop and the headphones. I know it still doesn't sound right but, now for me- it's about proving him wrong. Fuck fixing the piece. The whole goal is now to prove that I am right and he is wrong.

Because I'm like that.

And if you don't understand that kind of stubbornness then i will just have to assume you're Jewish too.

And a straight man.

He listens again, for just 8 bars of intro,

"I'm still afraid for my life. Take out the low strings. Leave the high ones"

"Oh OK Mr. Smarty Pants. Just to SHOW YOU. HOW WRONG. YOU ARE. I WILL take out the lower strings, and leave the high ones so we can both get back to what's REALLY WRONG WITH THIS ARRANGEMENT!"

Two minutes later I have muted the low strings.

mother fucker.

he's right.

he's 100% absolutely totally right.

Oh my God.

I've just been served.

Semitic-style.

Conveniently, i just 'keep working' at the piano.

About fifteen minutes later, he says,

"Hmmmmmmm, gee, it's taking you an awfully long to take those lower strings out..."

*crap*

in a barely audible voice i say,

"you were right."

"what?"

"you were right, ok?"

"I'm sorry, I think my imaginary yamaka is on too tight....what did you..."

"I SAID YOU WERE RIGHT OK? I WAS TOTALLY WRONG. YOU WERE RIGHT."

"WHAT?! I was RIGHT?!! YOU ACTUALLY SAID THAT I WAS RIGHT?!! Mark this day in history as I go to Temple and give thanks to my God!"

And then.

Hello froze over and pigs flew.

Not because Andy was right....

and not even because I actually admitted it...

but because somewhere...

I was actually happy to admit it.

THAT was an entirely new sensation I dont think I've ever experienced in my life.

Suffice to to say, I'm rarely proven wrong and when I am-

I am absolutely never happy about it.

And so Parting Glass and the power of my Grandma morphs in my life once again-

from lullabye

to good luck charm-

to showing me just how lucky i am.

But if any of you ever see Andy?

Don't ever tell him I said so.

He's been absolutely impossible ever since he was 'right'...

and I shudder to think what I'll have to live with if he actually knew I was happy about it.

Thanks.

PAYBILL DIGS OLD FRIENDS!

2010-01-10T09:08:00.000-08:00

http://www.playbill.com/news/article/135820-ON-THE-RECORD-Memphis-Donna-Lynne-Champlins-Old-Friends-and-a-Second-OCR-for-13/pg2

Thanks Steve!!!

;-)

**********

ON THE RECORD: Memphis, Donna Lynne Champlin's "Old Friends," and a Second OCR for 13

By Steven Suskin
10 Jan 2010

DONNA LYNNE CHAMPLIN: Old Friends [Parting Glass Productions]
Have you heard the one about the Broadway actress who challenged herself to make a CD for a flat $1,000 and did precisely that, recording it in the bathroom of her studio apartment? The fact that she did it at all is admirable, and the fact that she managed to turn out a professional-sounding item is impressive. The fact that it is a first-rate CD makes the economic discussion irrelevant. And Donna Lynne Champlin's "Old Friends" is a first-rate CD; if she didn't tell us in her liner notes that she spun it out of ten hundred-dollar bills, and if she didn't include a photo of her singing over the sink, we wouldn't be talking about such mundane matters. We would simply be saying that "Old Friends" is quite good and recommending it to your attention.

Ms. Champlin is of course familiar to discerning New York theatregoers. This is the actress who played the Carol Burnett-inspired character in Carrie Hamilton and Ms. Burnett's Hollywood Arms, back in 2002; and who more recently sang a Pirelli of note in the John Doyle-helmed Sweeney Todd in 2005. (I actually remember her raising an eyebrow at her Honoria Glossop inBy Jeeves, during its limited local engagement at the Helen Hayes in 2001.) Champlin is presently in Billy Elliot, earning a paycheck; an onstage injury, apparently, left her sitting around her studio apartment with the time and the energy to — well, to see if she could make a $1,000 CD by herself.

She could, indeed, and did. Mind you, this is not something you should try yourself unless you can not only sing but write your own arrangements and play them on your own keyboard. Champlin is accompanied by violinist Jessica Wright and cellist Elisa Winter, who unless DLC has a huge bathtub must have come along later to added their music to the tracks. But Champlin did the vocals (including backup work), piano, accordion, flute, tin whistle, and synthed guitar, bass, strings, chimes and percussion. In this case, the singer is very much beholden to her musicians.

The 15 tracks come from a variety of places, with only one song that the average listener might find familiar (that being Charles Chaplin's "Smile"). Seven of the songs appear to be from musicals, although four are from musicals unknown to me (and which might be unproduced). In fact, I am pretty much unfamiliar with 12 of the 15 items. No harm in this, of course. However, I am struck by a certain sameness in many of the selections; Ms. Champlin might have profited by the presence of a song selection associate. This is a minor qualm, though; "Old Friends," and Donna Lynne Champlin, make good friends.

THEATREMANIA GIVES OLD FRIENDS SOME LOVE...

2010-01-06T08:58:00.001-08:00

http://www.theatermania.com/content/news.cfm?int_news_id=23858&int_city_id=1&intPage=4#content

thanks Andy!!!

FEATURE

Nine CDs for the New Year

Reports on the NINE soundtrack; Glee, Vol. 2; Memphis cast recording; new discs from Donna Lynne Champlin, Ashley Brown, and Regis and Joy Philbin and more…

By: Andy Propst · Jan 5, 2010 · New York

Million Dollar Quartet (www.milliondollarquartetlive.com)
This new musical from Chicago (and due on Broadway later this season) is a high-octane exploration of a 1956 recording session that brought Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis together. The CD is filled with some remarkably powerful covers of these legends' biggest hits.

Wonderland Concept Recording (www.wonderlandthemusical.org)
Frank Wildhorn's diverse, toe-tapping tunes for this update to Lewis Carroll's classic stories are delivered with vocal flair by a host of Broadway veterans, notably Janet Dacal, Karen Mason, Nikki Snelson, and Jose Llana.

Ashley Brown, Speak Low (Ghostlight Records)
Broadway's original Mary Poppins breaks out in surprising and generally satisfying ways with a variety of show tunes and pop classics. Her jazzy "My Funny Valentine" and a lushly robust "If I Were a Bell" are particularly enjoyable.

Donna Lynne Champlin, Old Friends (www.donnalynnechamplin.com)
The musical theater vetran tackles a plethora of material from some of today's most gifted musical theater writers with delicacy and often heartbreaking intensity on a disc that's a testament to her talent as both songstress and producer.

Regis & Joy Philbin, Just You, Just Me (Big Dot Records)
This famous couple's enjoyment of one another -- and the romantic standards they croon -- is infectious on this charming disc that brings a more innocent era to life with genial aplomb.

Glory Days (Ghostlight Records)
This score for this short-lived Broadway show about four high school friends reuniting during their college break has a little more substance than one might imagine. Indeed, its youthful verve should ultimately make it a staple in colleges for years to come.

APPLYING FOR A MAC "RECORDING" AWARD

2010-01-05T20:50:00.001-08:00

Heya cats and kittens-

So it's been a busy night-

sending out general CD orders from Amazon, etc-

sending out 'thank you' CDs to all the members of the Anna Sosenko Committee, (and Jonathan Herzog and Sandi Durell for their bringing the Trust to my attention in the first place)-

sending out 'thank you' CDs to my accountants for the EIN help-

and....

applying for the MAC 'recording' award.

I'm assuming/hoping I'm eligible because, even though I'm not personally a MAC member (although I'm considering it for my one-woman show "Finishing The Hat")-

I have performed at many of the MAC affiliated theatres around town and I did perform a great deal of "Old Friends" live at the CD release party at the Beechman in November.

Basically....

I'm just doing with the application on the MAC site is telling me to do-

I've filled out the application and sent along copies of various interviews, reviews, articles, the press release and the sell sheet for the CD.

If you have something- a CD, a show, a performance that you'd like to be considered for a MAC award the deadline is January 16th...

so hie thee to http://www.macnyc.com/ and get it all in the mail, babies!!!

Will keep you posted.

I'm considering filling one out for "Finishing The Hat" under another category...

but i'm not sure if I should wait for the CD to come out....

hmmmmmmm....

will think on it.

but in the meantime...

keep your fingers crossed for OLD FRIENDS to win a MAC award.

;-)

Stay warm darlin's-

it's ccccccooooolllldddddd out there!

xoxo

PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS HAS WON A GRANT!!!

2010-01-05T16:04:00.000-08:00

I applied for a The Anna Sosenko Assist Trust in October to help pay for "Old Friends" and I received a check today in support of PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS!

http://www.annasosenkotrust.org/about.htm

Since I had so many marvelous Donating Angels who helped cover the cost of "Old Friends"-

I will use this grant money to pay for my new CD in production, the audio of my one-woman show "Finishing The Hat- Live at the Beechman".

THANK YOU ANNA SOSENKO TRUST!!!!!

xoxo

BYE BYE TD BANK!

2009-12-31T12:28:00.000-08:00

Hello dolls-

As you might recall-

so that I could open my PAYPAL account for the CD, I needed to connect it to viable bank account online of my own to legitimize any payments they would make for me.

Because I am slightly paranoid about any of my personal and financial information being online-

having been the victim of ID fraud twice in my life-

I didn't feel comfortable connecting my PAYPAL account to my main personal bank account.

So i opened a new bank account at TD BANK (formerly COMMERCE BANK) with the minimum of $100 in it since PAYPAL and online selling and buying were somewhat foreign to me.

Ironically, TD Bank's motto is 'AMERICA'S MOST CONVENIENT BANK".

I assure you it is not.

It is rather America's most IN-convenient bank.

And since I was able to open a proper and separate 'business checking account' in the name of my company Parting Glass Productions-

with my own bank after getting my EIN....

and after I switched my PAYPAL and my AMAZON.COM merchant accounts over to said "business checking account"-

today...

i closed out my TD Bank account.

Just down to the wire as 2009 is hours away from being over.

it was a small thing but a huge relief to my peace of mind-

as I am not a fan of having all of my financial shit spread out from here to East Jesus.

I like everything in one place where I can get at it and bring the confusion-level to about a 'three'.

Also-

not to 'politicize' this blog in any way-

but i was even more inspired to close down this account after I read this article about moving all our money to local banks and credit unions to help the economy-

(and to kinda stick it to all the big banks who have just taken our 'bailout' money and done pretty much fuck all in return to help clean up the mess they made, in the process):

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/arianna-huffington/move-your-money-a-new-yea_b_406022.html

So goodbye TD Bank...

and goodbye 2009...

I'm grateful for all the good things you gave me but I am also happy to see you go.

Here's to a much less complicated 2010!

Happy New Year everyone!

*bok bok*

THE FINAL SAY IN THE EIN SITUATION

2009-12-31T08:18:00.001-08:00

Ok.

So my awesome accountant Trudy Durant who I've been going to for years and handles pretty much 80% of the actors in town called me last night at around 9pm.

She said that the EIN is FINE.

To have it or not have it....

it's not life or death...

as long as when you get the EIN you say on the form that you are a 'SOLE PROPRIETOR'.

which i did.

*whew*

But you can still claim unemployment-

and of course, if you make money by selling some CDs while you're on unemployment when they ask if you if you've made "such and such" money this week-

you should be honest.

But i THINK....

come tax time...

i fill out a 1099 for what i made in selling CDs for Parting Glass Productions.

I'm NOT sure about that...

but when I go do my taxes I shall report back.

I promise.

BUT-

having the EIN...

neither here nor there...

it helps to get a BUSINESS banking account...

and in the FUTURE if i have employees i'm all set...

but...

it's not gonna screw me in any way because i don't technically employ anyone at the moment-

because I claimed 'sole proprietor' when i filled out the form.

SO THERE.

Whew!

Awesome.

No worries.

Yay!

A HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL-

AND MAY 2010 BRING YOU ALL EVERY HAPPINESS AND SUCCESS POSSIBLE!

xoxo

donna lynne

OLD FRIENDS GETS A RAVE IN NEXT MAGAZINE!!!

2009-12-30T17:38:00.001-08:00

Sweet!

http://www.nextmagazine.com/curtain/cd-reviews-rebecca-luker-steve ross-donna-lynne-champlin

CD REVIEWS: Rebecca Luker, Steve Ross, Donna Lynne Champlin

David Hurst

Rebecca Luker
Greenwich time

The indispensable Rebecca Luker has released a new disc of contemporary theater songs that’s as ravishing as she is! Titled Greenwich Time, it’s filled with interesting tunes from Joseph Thalken, Steve Marzullo, Maury Yeston, Jeff Blumenkrantz, Ricky Ian Gordon and Tom Herman, just to name a few. In a word, Greenwich Time is thrilling—just like Luker! (PS Classics)

Steve Ross
I Remember Him Well

Steve Ross, the elegant raconteur who specializes in Cole Porter and Noël Coward, has released a new disc recorded live at The Oak Room titled I Remember Him Well – The Songs of Alan Jay Lerner. Filled with witty, melodic, and often obscure ditties from Lerner’s extensive catalogue, I Remember Him Well is the zenith of what a cabaret disc should be. (LML Music)

Donna Lynne Champlin
Old Friends

The ultimate example of chutzpah triumphing over commerce, the brilliant Broadway star Donna Lynne Champlin made her debut CD for $1,000 and did it the old-fashioned way—herself! The vocals (recorded in her bathroom), piano, accordion, flute, guitar, bass, strings, percussion and arrangements are by Champlin and the songs are all fresh, interesting choices. The result: a stunning knockout!(DonnaLynneChamplin.com)

12/25/2009

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Curtain Up

ON SECOND THOUGHT...

2009-12-30T09:15:00.000-08:00

...about that EIN...

uhm....

that "Employer Identification Number" that my bank was so intent on my having to open a business bank account?

Yeah.

DON'T DO IT unless you're actually an EMPLOYER-

EMPLOYING SOMEONE ELSE.

Hi.

Welcome to stupid-ass rookie mistake number 873409234o7823476234234 in this process.

So.

NOW i have an EIN which makes the government think that I am employing OTHER people.

Apparently ALL i needed was the DBA (doing business as) that I got from The Supreme Court.

Come tax time, if i don't get rid of this EIN immediately....

the government will think that I have a business that I'm hiding from them if i don't fill out the right forms.

Which i can't do-

because i don't actually employ other people.

obviously.

Jesus...

H....

this ALWAYS happens when i'm trying to the do the RIGHT THING.

Gahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

so anyway.

thanks to the wonderful help of Julie Thaxter-Gourlay who approached me on Facebook when she saw my status about an EIN and went "hmmmmmm, that doesn't sound right...."

With her help-

I am going to get the address of wherever I need to send whatever i need to to the government, so i don't get totally hosed.

Normally I wouldn't be so paranoid-

but i JUST got hosed by Unemployment last year where a movie company (who's now conveniently defunct) submitted the wrong dates of when I worked...

ending up in it looking like (to the government) that i claimed unemployment on days that I was actually working.

And there literally was no film company to go back to to tell them they had written down the wrong days for when I was on set--

So i had to pay thousands in 'fees'-

for something that wasn't even my fault.

I know it sounds insane...

and why would i do that?

Because a lawyer friend recommended to me that it would actually be easier and cheaper to just pay it as if i was guilty. Apparently the nightmare of trying to hunt down anyone from this movie company- and then even explain it to the system that is Unemployment? Is worse than paying thousands of dollars.

Yeah.

Bureaucracy.

Gotta love it.

So...

admittedly since then-

i am really nervous about dealing with the government because I can see how someone ELSE'S mistake can still cost you thousands of dollars.....

and this time the mistake is TOTALLY mine.

How much is that gonna cost.

Oy.

Anyway.

Heads up.

DO NOT GET AN EID UNLESS YOU ACTUALLY EMPLOY OTHER PEOPLE!!!!

and Happy New Year!

;-)

So, Uhm.....

2009-12-26T17:28:00.000-08:00

My CD is now available in AUSTRALIA?

http://www.middle8.com/mem/product.asp?pID=4151&cID=373&scID=0&m&c=0

I have no idea how this happened-

i think it's part of the package at either play-it direct, or through amazon.com?

Lol.

Annnnnyyywwwaaaayyyyyyy...

for all of you in uhm....Australia-

that have been clamoring for my CD....

Your dreams have been realised.

shalom.

xoxo

CD UNIVERSE and COLONY RECORDS!

2009-12-21T21:11:00.000-08:00

This is, apparently- connected to Amazon.com.

They just hook you up with CD Universe when you sign on, i guess.

Sweet!

http://www.cduniverse.com/productinfo.asp?PID=8095195&style=music&frm=lk_castalbums

I also stopped by COLONY RECORDS today-

for those of you who don't know...

Colony Records is NYC institution here...

it's been around for ages and has been selling all kinds of music (sheet, recorded and/or otherwise) forever, basically.

I asked them what protocol is for having them sell a CD-

and he said,

"Well, you bring one around- the guys 'in the back' (what? chained to the radiator?) listen to it..

if they like it...

you bring in ten copies.

And then if those ten copies sell, then we'll ask for more and then cut you in."

Of course in my MIND....

i'm like 'Jigga whaaaaaah?'

I didn't pay for ten CDs so you all could just MAKE money off them...

so i could have the honor of being sold in COLONY RECORDS for fuck's sake...

and not even get 5 cents for it.

lol.

But out LOUD i said, "Yeah. Well i'll bring one around, and 'the guys in the back' like it- you can call me and we'll figure it out."

which is code for....

"If you like it, i'll give you TWO free ones and then if you want more, we negotiate."

but...

i mean...TEN free copies?

seriously?

for the record-

it seems that the USUAL way it goes is...

in this sort of 'store buying' situation...

they buy ten CDs off you at a DISCOUNT.

Say, $10 each.

And then they can sell it for whatever they want but...

this whole, "hey let me just give you product so you can just make money...like...ALL the money..." is beyond retarded.

Anyhoodles-

it might all be moot if the 'guys in the back' aren't in the mood for my fabulosity of musicalle-ness.

But, i'll keep you all posted....

stay tuned darlings!!!

;-)

GETTING AN "EID"

2009-12-21T16:37:00.000-08:00

Yes Virginia, is does sound like a venereal disease.

or a contraceptive.

Ok, seriously.

Since I recently registered the name of my production company (Parting Glass Productions) with NYS...

and since i wanted to open a bank account specifically for Parting Glass Productions-

I was told that I needed an "EID".

An "EID" is an Employer Identification Number with the IRS.

Heads up....

If you go all the way to your local IRS building in the freezing cold and post-blizzard slush, to get a "SS-4" form, they will most likely say to you,

"You know, you can do this online in like, ten minutes. If you do it here, you'll wait for at least an hour and the paperwork will take up to 4 weeks. You might as well just go home."

So.

Just go to www.irs.gov and have at it.

Search for an "SS-4 form", or "EID" on the site-

go through and answer all the questions and that's pretty much it.

No fee or anything (which was shocking to me).

Literally, in ten minutes, I had an EID number and was able to print it out to bring to the bank to open a 'business account' specifically for Parting Glass Productions.

When I file my taxes...

I honestly don't know what I claim all this under...

a 1099?

a W-2?

a 24601?

i have no idea.

God bless my accountant.

How does this affect when I apply for unemployment?

I have no idea.

God help me when I open my new post-BILLY claim.

I will keep you all posted as we go into this 'businessy-business' part of the production company bit....

in the meantime-

i hope you're all having a marvelous holiday season!

xoxo

NICE ARTICLE ON BACKSTAGE!

2009-12-19T08:55:00.000-08:00

WHEE!!

Thanks Hillary!

The Professional Bathroom Singer

Broadway star Donna Lynne Champlin goes DIY for her first solo album

By Hilary Tuttle

December 18, 2009

Recording a solo album on a "Trading Spaces" budget

does not sound like a Broadway star's groundbreaking

personal project. Yet when Donna Lynne Champlin

fractured her ankle in "Billy Elliott," that is exactly what

she did. The result—"Old Friends," which dropped Dec.

1—challenges the traditional recording system and

makes Champlin almost as happy as the hours spent

singing in her bathroom and agonizingly mastering

tracks did. She set out to prove that it she could

accomplish a professional-sounding labor of love one a

budget of $1000. But the experience also served as a

lesson in making a profit by making herself happy.

When Champlin decided to record, mix, and master her own solo CD, she had no idea what she was

in for. "I started this because I wanted to prove that it could be done and I wanted to lay out the

groundwork for anyone who wanted to do it themselves," she said. "I figured, stocking stuffers for my

family and a CD [to sell] to stop looking like a jackass at those Town Hall things. I figured that

basically anyone could scrape that budget together over the course of, say, a year, like I did."

In her budget, $1000 is sufficient for the project if only 150 physical copies are ordered. Though, with

digital, she learned, only about five are really needed. "You can send it to CD Baby and they sell it all

digitally. And then with Amazon and iTunes, you're set. You don't need the company anymore."

When Champlin, best known as Pirelli from the Broadway revival of "Sweeny Todd," got the idea,

her brother suggested she push her effort with an accompanying blog. She was shocked when

readership quickly grew beyond her brother and mother. But she stayed honest with everyone.

"In marketing, you're supposed to point to the good stuff," she said. "And the blog was very

antithetical to that. But that's the whole point. For other people to not do what I did and make my

mistakes and to know how hard it is. I think that's why people are so willing to help me—it's clear

how helpless I am!"

Help poured in from friends, fans, and absolute strangers. After repeated inquiries, Champlin

accepted donations for a publicity fund. She also got offers of production assistance, from graphic

design to technological equipment to professional mixing—by Terrence Darby, who mixes Moby and

Beyonce, no less.

You would never know the vocals were recorded in her bathroom. "I recorded there because it's the

only room I have with a door," she says, laughing. "Mastering songs, there were times where it was

so bad that my notes were literally, 'Good luck.'"

While her self-taught mixing and mastering skills paid off in the final product, that last technical

process drove her the craziest—and made her appreciate the professionals. "This is where they

deserve the big bucks," she said. "I did it, and it's doable, and I showed it could be done, but to make

the experience perfect, I probably wouldn't. That was where, if I could have given someone $1

million to just do it for me, I would have, and it would have been worth every cent."

Technical difficulties did not wreck the experience, though. In fact, Champlin describes the whole

project as an exercise in making herself happy at every step.

"I decided to make a CD that I would enjoy listening to," she explained. "So I would finish a song and

sit there, and I would say, 'What song, of all the songs I know, would I like to work on now? What

song would make me happy?' And that's how I picked the songs. I can't tell you how many times in

this whole thing people said, 'Well, that's not how people do it.' And you know what? I don't care. I

don't owe anybody any money; I don't have to meet anybody's bottom line."

Financial and artistic freedom made the experience. As a veteran of the stage, Champlin asserts that

actors get too conditioned to accept direction. She loved making the creative calls that made her

happy, and she relished the ability to go against conventions just as much.

"I've broken a lot of rules with this," she said. "Happily, because I can."

Picking happiness has paid off for the star. With 200 preorders, she not only recouped all of her

money, but made a profit even before the official release.

At the end, Champlin offered advice to artists considering making a solo CD—either with the DIY

approach or more conventionally. With her new insight she said, "You need to do this for artistic

reasons only, because if you do it for commercial reasons you're not going to make it—you'll go crazy

and it'll be miserable.

"It really was incredibly fun, the whole thing," she added. "It was maddening. But I haven't been this

artistically happy in years."

Find this article at:

http://www.backstage.com/bso/news-and-features-features/the-professional-bathroom-singer-1004054600.story

A BUSINESS CERTIFICATE ADVENTURE!

2009-12-18T15:47:00.001-08:00

Heya my little toymaking elves!

SO.

Today was the day.

It was the day that I went down to The New York Supreme Court building and adopted my bouncing baby production company.

Something i really should have done before i ever released anything on my 'label' because until you go down to the court house and pay your $120 and make sure that no one else has a company called, oh i don't know...'Parting Glass Productions'...you're playing with legal fire basically.

Here's the drill.

You go to your local courthouse that gives out BUSINESS CERTIFICATES.

In my case, this was 60 Centre Street.

On pretty much THE coldest day of the year.

First thing you do is go to the records room (in my case room 117B in the basement) and see if anyone has ownership of the name you want for your company.

Of course, I get down to 117B and there's a note scrawled in insane asylum penmanship on a piece of cardboard that says, "CLOSED".

No REASON...for 'CLOSED'.

Just....

closed.

awesome.

and of course, you can't do this shit online cause that would be...

ya know...

20th century stuff.

Heaven forbid the court system get out of the horse and buggy age.

I look through the window to see if there's anyone in there that could tell me what to do now...

and I swear to God, it looked that that last shot in the original Indiana Jones movie? Where the ark is crated up and put inside this massive room that looks like where Overstock.com went to throw up?

Honestly, I might not have gotten out alive, had it not been 'CLOSED'.

So.

I can't really check in room 117B so i go to the next step which is:

Once you have determined (in the 'CLOSED' 117B room of hieroglyphics and curses) whether or not the name you want is even available...

you go to room 109B, conveniently located a few doors down.

I go to the desk-

big line.

Now...

i KNOW that....

actually the NEXT step after the Temple of Doom room is-

if your name is available to go BACK up to the lobby 'candy stand'-

i'm not kidding...

the 'candy stand'...

and go buy the official form for which you will apply for the name of your business.

I look at the big line in 109B-

knowing full well....

that it's a waste of time really since they'll be wanting me to have the right form by the time i get to the desk and figure 'fuck it, i'll go get the form now, and pretend that my PGP is available'.

As I'm heading out of 109B-

i run into a really nice police officer.

i explain to him about 117B and he directs me BACK to the desk in 109B but to the other side.

A really tired and fed up woman steps up to 'help' me.

bless.

I explain the situation and she has me write down the name of my company-

and just goes to the COMPUTER (so you CAN check online but...only if you work there?)-

looks up and says, "It's taken".

Aaaaaaaaaannnnndddd then i shit my pants.

I then ask the question all public servants LOVE to hear,

"Are you SURE?"

*intense glare from said fed-up woman

"Oh fucking hell. Well...shit. Ok."

I'm now roladexing all the things I've sent out with PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS emblazoned on it.....

all things now...

that i could be sued for.

YES!

SWEET!

I stand there...

slightly paralized...

and try desperately to think up another name that's similar enough but won't get me arrested by whomever owns the 'real' PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS (which at this point I'm pretty sure is a bunch of wankers who have a crappy irish band that they formed sophomore year in college and probably don't even use anymore. Fuckers.)

I ask her if there are any 'tricks' to this-

can i put at the end 'LTD' or "Associated" or SOMETHING that will let me keep PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS.

A flat "no".

fuck.

As i stand there...

a really cute guy comes up and asks if i'm having trouble thinking of a new name...

i explain the situation and how I've slightly screwed myself by doing this all ass-backwards and he says,

"Let me check it again."

He looks...

and he says, "No, it's available."

WWWHHHHHAAATTTTTTTTTT????

Yeah.

Cranky, old, fed-up tired lady figured that PARTING GLASS RACING was the same as PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS and...

ya know, i don't know really what the rest of her thought process was beyond that.

Obviously---

a sports company is going to have a LOT of interest in my tiny independant artistic label.

SO.

upshot....

I am now the proud and official and LEGAL owner of PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS.

Yay!

To run you through the rest of it-

once you know that your name is available-

you go back upstairs to the 'candy stand' and buy your "X201 Form" for two dollars.

Then you go back down to the basement...

fill out the form-

pay $120 (the $100 is for the certificate which they keep and the extra $20 was for two copies for me)-

and then you're done!!!

Before i left, i asked them if the number on my new license which reads:

"PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS: A recording label for audio CDs, DVDs, and other promotional material pertaining to the Arts. This is an "independant" production company"

was my official "DBA" number (which a few online selling sites have asked me for).

Of cooouuurrrrrssseeeeeeee...

it's not.

SO.

COME MONDAY.....

I will go get my official FEDERAL TAX ID# which can be found at 110 West 44th Street apparently.

After which i will go and open a new bank account purely for PARTING GLASS PRODUCTIONS!!!

So a busy-

and slightly pants-crapping stressful day-ish....

but ultimately...

I am now the OWNER of my own PRODUCTION COMPANY!!!!

Life is good.

And now i am off to dance for the peoples.

xoxo

OLD FRIENDS IS ON AMAZON.COM!!!!

2009-12-18T00:21:00.000-08:00

Finally!

Here's the thing...

i went through CDBABY thinking it would be FASTER?!!!

uhm.

HELLS to the NO on that.

They have for some reason, dragged their feet for WEEKS and then just sent me an email today saying 'oh we JUST sent it over...it could be another 2-4 weeks'.

well.

fuck that.

I just went on there and opened my own goddamned account.

and now i will write to cdbaby to ask them to REMOVE their request to sell it on amazon.com

i don't know how that will go but Jesus H Christ..

i could have been selling these CDs on amazon.com from like- DAY ONE!!!

SO...

lesson learned everybody.

When it comes to amazon.com?

Do it your damned self.

It's basically like the Pay Pal situation.

They handle the orders-

and you end up shipping everything out.

but that's what I've been doing all along so...

that's fine with me.

Ahhhhhhhhh, someday I'll know what the fuck I'm doing..

in the meantime-

IT'S ON AMAZON.COM EVERYBODY!!!

http://www.amazon.com/Old-Friends-Donna-Lynne-Champlin/dp/B003183QLI/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1261124403&sr=1-4

whee!!!!

xoxo

PETER FILICHIA AT THEATREMANIA GIVES OLD FRIENDS A FABULOUS SHOUT-OUT!

2009-12-14T21:24:00.001-08:00

God bless ya Peter!

You're the best!

http://www.theatermania.com/peterfilichia/permalinks/2009/12/14/the-presents-very-pleasant/

"CDs? Let me recommend one by Donna Lynne Champlin. The noted singer-actress found she had an extra $1,000 to spend. (After all, she is making a Broadway salary each week in Billy Elliot: The Musical.) She could have rented one of those newly refurbished rooms at the Plaza Hotel for a night. Or she could have bought a business class flight to France on a minor airline that needs the business. Or she could have gone to Sofrito and had Chef Ricardo Cardona’s famous $1,000 paella, replete with black truffles, sea scallops, baby squid, baby eel, mussels, cherrystone clams, king crab legs, mini-chorizo sausages, octopus, lobster tails, and prawns.

But the room, the flight, and the meal would have been gone in no time. So Champlin decided to spend the money and the time doing something that would last substantially longer: A solo CD.

Could it really be accomplished for $1,000? Champlin knows how expensive renting space is. Carnegie Hall, where she appeared in Very Warm for May, was definitely out. So were the studios where she recorded My Life with Albertine. And while Champlin wanted instrumentation to accompany her, she didn’t need to hire musicians. As her many fans know from her stint in John Doyle’s Sweeney Todd, Champlin can play piano, flute, accordion, among other instruments. So she’d lay down the instrumental tracks, and then start singing.

In her bathroom. But as the best artists can tell you, acoustics tend to be quite wonderful in the bathroom.

Given Champlin’s theater-centric career – she’s won an Obie – she’d included many off-the-beaten-track theater songs that don’t get their due, from First Lady Suite, The Blue Flower, Love, Jerry, Das Barbecu, The Last 5 Years, and The Zero Club. Considering that Champlin had a Broadway success with Hollywood Arms, she acknowledged Hollywood, too: Songs from films as far back as Modern Times to such recent entries asAnastasia, A Walk to Remember, and Toy Story. Rounding out the disc are ditties from songwriters ranging from Stephen Foster to Kate McGarrigle, with a traditional Irish tune to boot.

Here’s the result: Old Friends, the album that Champlin was able to do for one grand -- and the result is one grand album. CDs are $15. ($18 including shipping and handling) Old Friends is available on cdbaby, amazon.com, and itunes. Visitwww.donnalynnechamplin.com."