NYC, Take Two

So you know what’s really weird?

Last time I traveled to New York City, I felt totally overwhelmed and freaked out. I just wanted to get away from the noise and the people and find some green space.

This time I had the opposite experience. I didn’t find the mass of people overwhelming at all. In fact it felt like less people were there somehow – even though that can’t be true. And it felt quieter! Maybe because it was winter? I have no idea but I was not bothered ONCE by the noisiness of New York.

I went in prepared for the worst – I even brought my I Ching for emergency consultation, and wrote a list of “things that make me feel good and less freaked out,” a list I did not have to consult once. I’m just blown away by how easy it was this time. I didn’t have to try to have a good time – I got up every morning excited and walked out into the street and gained energy and momentum with each step. And this despite going to bed every night at 4 a.m!

And the weirdest part is: somewhere during this trip I got my desire back for working on Undine. A desire I kind of lost after performing in August (which is weird in and of itself, because the performances went well and I loved working with the people at the Ontological and sharing space with Helsinki Syndrome – so I’m not sure why it was so hard exactly). Anyway, I woke up yesterday morning, my first day back in Portland, and immediately dived into work on Undine and didn’t even have to make myself do this – I wanted to.

I am honestly baffled by all this. And thankful. I am chalking up my different experience this time around to:

+ Being there with the whole H2M crew. It was so much easier to be able to share the pressure and burden of performing with my fellow artists. And it’s just more fun to be on tour with H2M. It’s like going out dancing with your best friends versus going dancing by yourself. Even sharing a small living space (and one bathroom) with 7 people wasn’t too bad. There were lots of chances to talk over what was happening, to process and vent and give support and make each other laugh.

+ Wintertime. I think I just like NYC better in the winter. It’s sunny and bracing, the kind of weather that makes you want to go to museums and drink coffee and educate yourself. Even when it was super cold I enjoyed it. Maybe because I got to wear sweaters and scarves and cowboy boots, which served as armor to insulate me from the noise. And in general, boots make me feel more capable. You can’t kick someone’s ass in flip flops (though I’m not sure if I could kick someone’s ass regardless, but I’d be more likely to if I was wearing boots).

+ Knowing the city better – and going in ready to be proactive about figuring out which subway lines to use. I still got lost, but I wasn’t as anxious when I did because I could ask people how to get where I wanted to go, and understand the directions they gave me. This sounds so blithe and breezy but it is a new thing for me.

Other things that struck me as awesome on this trip:

+ Goddamn it, the food! Korean, Polish, Japanese. The soup options alone are dazzling. And you know how I feel about soup. And so many things you can eat late at night. And bagels. And things to eat with bagels like pickled tomatoes. Offered up by the two sweetest men on earth, Larry Krone and Jim Andralis. Larry's bathroom was an inspiration, filled with books by such luminaries as Rue McClanahan, and I’m pretty sure a Dolly Parton action figure.

+ Halfway through I took a day to just putter around the apartment and make borscht (I mean BEET BLAST) and read my lowbrow books. You know what I’m really coming to realize? This is not a searing insight but lowbrow books are fun to read. Especially on the subway or when you’re trying to fall asleep at 3:30 a.m. after a night of shouting about theater over bar noise. I love smart, fierce, complicated books – of course – but when you’re trying to relax, nothing beats The Shelters of Stone.

+ Oh man – I got to see a lot of shows, from companies I admire, like Banana Bag & Bodice, Wax Factory, 31 Down, The Debate Society and Vivarium Studio. Highlights for me included BBB’s Beowulf (they had me at the trombone section and backup singers) and the little booklets that Vivarium Studios were handing out – gems of subtle, gentle absurdity that expressed the nature of the company’s work as much as their show, L’Effet de Serge, did.

+ Oh yeah, and our show. We had a great time performing it. We got pretty solid crowds and good feedback from everyone who came, and we will likely be back next year having learned a lot more about how to prepare for a run in NYC. Unfortunately, no reviews (we were, after all, competing against every other theater performance in the entire known world). But I did get an email today from someone who came and saw the show, who said:

I just wanted to tell you that I thought your show was beautiful. Really so beautiful. I rarely feel as touched or delighted by theater, and I rarely laugh that hard out loud. So I just wanted to say thank you, because watching the wonderful work of theater you created makes me want try to create wonderful things as well.

And really, that’s all you can ask for.

So thank you, New York! And I’m sorry I blamed you for my nervous breakdown back in August.

Holiday Stress, relieved

Update time. OPERATION HOLIDAY FAMILY FREAKDOWN IN TEXAS went swimmingly, as in it went the (b) route. Worth it.

Even more worth it because -- joyful surprise! -- Jonathan and I got two ticket vouchers in exchange for volunteering to get bumped to a later flight to Austin. We arrived within a couple hours of our original arrival time, and we got to fly first class (which these days isn't as dazzling as one might imagine but still, not bad). So we can now plan a special trip wherever we want, whenever we want, however we want. Amazing how that perked up our spirits and took off some of the we spent $1200, and for what?! pressure.

The other tangible outcome of all the stress was that we had a frank discussion with my family about holiday traditions and the need for change. As in: I told them we will be celebrating Christmas in Oregon next year, and they are welcome to visit me if they want to. It was a good, hard conversation, and I think they more or less understood. As our friend Debbie so wisely pointed out, you can’t create new traditions for yourself until you stop trying to hold onto the old ones. We're adults now, and it's time for us to buy our own tree and make our own goll-dang traditions.

Other highlights:

+ Hearing Jonathan's grandparents tell stories -- I am always reminded, when I'm around them, of where Jonathan gets his incredible gift for spinning tales and holding court with grace and charm. This is a trait that I admire in Texans in general (and I am not just saying this to suck up to Jonathan's family).

+ But as long as I'm sucking up, Jonathan's family bought me a wonderful gift: cowboy boots! I'm like a little kid, I want to wear them all the time.

+ Of course I ate the most incredible, tender, smoky BBQ I have ever had the pleasure of consuming. Complete with pickled okra and hush puppies. Mmmmmmmm.

+ My parents gave us a food dehydrator which maybe doesn't sound that exciting but trust me, it is. We can dry our own mushrooms and tomatoes. Which is going to help us with our grand goal of living entirely off our garden produce year-round.

+ Though we only saw my family for one day in Austin, it was a delightful jam packed day, featuring chilaquiles for breakfast, pho for dinner, dominoes, happy hour, a hot tub, an engagement announcement and new year resolutions. Plus my mom half asleep and giggling on the couch.

Now we're back in Portland preparing for our grand escape to NYC which alternately thrills and terrifies me. But then again pretty much everything in life alternately thrills and terrifies me.

Criticism & Negative Reviews

This topic is always on my mind, since (a) I have a hard time being criticized, and (b) I am a performer, and part of being grown up and professional and classy means being able to take it in the chin. [correction: ON the chin. Not sure what taking it IN the chin entails but it doesn't sound very classy to me.]

In August when I went to New York with my one-woman show I knew it was going to be a struggle. We would be lucky to get any reviews at all, so I had to be ready for negative reviews, and I had to be ready for them to get personal.

HOW DID YOU DEAL WITH IT, FAITH?

Well, let me tell you. I handled it the one foolproof way I know: by not reading them. Which was good, because I got five reviews in all – two were mostly positive, two were mostly negative, and one was vaguely snarky. I know this because I did have to read them eventually.

There’s a weird thrill that comes from reading a bad review about your work. Maybe it’s the thrill of someone finally punching you in the face after long-simmering tension. There’s catharsis in that: finally, someone told me the truth, that I suck. The danger is that you will take it too much to heart. “Sophomoric and angsty” = IT’S TRUE, I AM SOPHOMORIC AND ANGSTY, what is wrong with me, why am I so immature, why do I suck so much, I should just give this up and be a schoolteacher except I probably suck at that too, etc. etc. etc.

I think it is possible to reach a point where you take the punch but it doesn’t stop you. Where you say, ok, maybe my work is sophomoric and angsty. WHAT ELSE YOU GOT? Or better yet, you take that criticism and use it as promotion. COME SEE FAITH HELMA “DOG PADDLING IN CABARET.” (That is advanced level badassery though, and a topic we will tackle another day: how to reclaim negative criticism and use it for self-promotion).

And you know what, praise is actually trickier to deal with, because if someone says “she is doing the best work of her life,” what do you do? Sit back and say, yes, I am doing the best work of my life? In that case the only thing I’ve figured out (though no one has said I’m doing the best work of my life – so I haven’t had to work too hard) is to allow the praise its brief moment to happy dance with my ego, then tell it to pack up its things and play with someone else.

Maybe that’s something you could do with the negative too: let it flourish and drip inky doubt into your psyche, then push it out the door and say, it’s time to go home now.

So, that’s my method for dealing with reviews. But what about the rest of life, when your criticism doesn’t come in the form of published articles that you can easily avoid or hold at arm's length? AHHHH. Yes. That is much more difficult.

WHAT DO I DO ABOUT BAD REVIEWS OF MY LIFE?

I don't have a clue. But Sarah over at Make Great Stuff talks about taking in feedback as a visual artist, which is fascinating to me – I spend a lot of time thinking about how hard it is to be a performer and how easy it must be to be a visual artist – but of course we’re all putting our hearts and beliefs and risks out there for everyone to see, and that is haaaaaard hard hard.

And over at Fluent Self, Havi talks about the concept of sovereignty a lot – not letting someone else’s shoe-throwing (aka, criticism that comes out of nowhere) throw you off balance, learning how to step back and say, that is your deal, this is my deal, I am going to listen to what you’re saying but not fall into a weeping puddle of self doubt and recrimination.

Well – I have to say I’m not quite that sovereign yet – I am still liable to get tearful if someone calls me out directly. Or if I manage to not show it on the outside, I’m feeling it in the form of a raging hole inside. But it is a helpful image and word to keep in mind. Sovereignty.

And I always love Penelope Trunk. She lays the events of her life out with spare, unrelenting honesty, and if someone tries to tear her down, she ups the ante. An example: family members of the man she was dating were doing searches to find her most salacious posts, and forwarding them to other family members. She mentions this, and then says,

“Wait. You are wondering, right? What they’re finding? Here. Here’s a list of some links.”

And links to the three most salacious things she’s written. Which means she is in control of her story, and not letting other people get hold of it. She’s not hiding – she’s putting it out there even more. I admire this. I think it’s smart, and fucking hard to do.

IT ALL COMES BACK TO BARACK

This may be a weird comparison, but I am reminded of Barack Obama. When a scandal comes out, instead of denying and denying and running and hiding, he uses that opportunity to lay his cards down and speak directly and honestly. When the Reverend Wright scandal first broke, he responded with a beautiful, difficult speech about race. This week, accepting the Nobel Peace Prize (a perfect example of positive praise sometimes being worse than negative praise*), he directly addressed the awkwardness of accepting a peace prize just as he’s going deeper into war:

But perhaps the most profound issue surrounding my receipt of this prize is the fact that I am the Commander-in-Chief of the military of a nation in the midst of two wars. One of these wars is winding down. The other is a conflict that America did not seek; one in which we are joined by 42 other countries -- including Norway -- in an effort to defend ourselves and all nations from further attacks.

Still, we are at war, and I'm responsible for the deployment of thousands of young Americans to battle in a distant land. Some will kill, and some will be killed. And so I come here with an acute sense of the costs of armed conflict -- filled with difficult questions about the relationship between war and peace, and our effort to replace one with the other.

(Read the entire speech here).

Most politicians these days (maybe always) avoid being honest about difficult topics. But you know what they risk by not talking about the difficult things? They risk the story getting away from them, and I think Barack Obama is incredibly smart to take hold of the story at the beginning, to put his cards on the table and articulate the issue in his own words. To do otherwise is to let secrets take hold, to let the gossip whispered behind backs gain power. You need to be in control of your story, warts and all.

So, that is what I am mulling over today and trying to learn. How to talk about my life and my art and all the mistakes and confusions and slings and arrows, without shame or fear.

* wait, I just realized I may have coined a term: negative praise. Is that when someone praises you for what you're not, like, "oh she'll be fine, she's no dummy" or "he's never been late a day in his life"?

New York City!

Am I the only person who still, when I see or hear the phrase NEW YORK CITY, thinks of the Pace salsa commercial where two cowboys incredulously read aloud the birthplace of an inferior brand of salsa? Sad, but true. I guess that was a successful ad.

Anyway, onto the topic at hand: my tumultuous relationship with New York City. I know I am not alone in this. But here is my perception, in Portland anyway: you are supposed to say, oh man I just LOVE New York, I go there as much as I can. You are allowed to shake your head ruefully or express your frustration or burned out-ness in relation to a recent trip to New York, or if you are from there originally you can say how much you prefer the leafy environs of Portland. But you are not supposed to say that you are freaked out and overwhelmed by New York. That is bad form. That is for rubes from the midwest – oh my stars, all the people, and the noise, and the CRIME! It’s possible that this is all a projection of my paranoid girl-from-the-midwest-trying-to-prove-herself mind… but my sense is that when I am honest about my last trip to New York people kind of look away and change the subject. Like… “huh, that’s weird. Hm. Well did you eat some good food though?”

And luckily I did eat some incredible food. But the fact remains, my last trip to New York (about a month ago) was difficult. Like, for the first five days I hid in the apartment where I was crashing and trembled with fear at the thought of setting foot anywhere by myself.

I think it came down to several key factors that converged to overwhelm me:

1. Fear of navigating the subway, of getting irrevokably lost.
2. Fear of strangers. It’s embarrassing to admit this.
3. Performance anxiety. I was performing my show. This is a topic for another day.
4. Noise and lack of quiet space.
5. Money. New York is fucking expensive.

So, all together, these factors = TOTALLY FREAKED OUT IN NEW YORK CITY.

I did eventually figure out how to handle these various stressors, and next time when I go, I think I’ll be better prepared. Here are some things that helped me get over my freaked-out-ness:

1. After studying a map, in a low stress (ie, not about to get on the subway) situation, and setting a simple journey for myself that I could successfully complete, it no longer felt like the entire city was waiting to gobble me up.

2. It’s a New York cliché, but after two weeks I found myself shutting people out, not making eye contact with everyone. It helped me focus on the people I wanted to focus on, and not take it personally when other people did this to me.

3. I still haven’t figured out what to do about the performance anxiety thing – I’ll let you know when I do.

4. I realized that parks and little oases are there for a good reason: to keep you sane. Also: Brighton Beach! Walking along the beach felt like magic.

5. I tried to buy groceries and not eat out every meal. I didn’t really succeed in this but maybe next time I will.

So, yeah. New York. Tough town, great salsa.