Cynthia Hopkins: Essential Viewing

Hopkins
AKA that spacesuit show Tarbot’s been working on

You will dig this show I just saw if you, like me, have cremative diffuifulties, like with writing n’ schtuff…

Or like you can’t like articulate yourself good enough to get a job…

Or you can’t break it off with that not-so-special someone…

Or you are being stingy with your pussy/cock and not giving your Once Significant Other any pleasure thereby punishing he/she for saving you from being a self-destructive, fake-monogamous asshole…

Or you have an addiction to ellipses…

Or you can’t not drink when free booze is presented to you at a party at Tom Fruin’s studio or Whole Foods or when you’re subletting your friend’s apartment in Paris and you find a half-filled bottle of wine…. or vinegar… whatever…

Or you have serious Blog Block… as I do… or rather as I did.  I did have it.  And now I don’t, I mean I’m still mentally stuttering… but I am writing.  I am writing on this gay-ass Blog!  I like things in my butt!  Does that make me gay!?!  Who cares?  I’m in love with the world and my wife, Kat!!!  Yeah, I am married!!! (Sorry for not telling you Mom but I went off my meds.)

In fact, I am doing a lot of things that I have been putting off.  Today I took a shower and I actually thought about maybe considering thinking about doing my 2006 taxes. I credit the transformative power of The Success of Failure (or The Failure of Success) which opens at St. Anne’s tomorrow.

I thought (as in “I am not thinking anymore”) that the first half of this show was dreck… I mean top of the line dreck, like the most advanced beautifully choreographed crap you will ever see outside of Euro-Disney.   The designers of the show are the most sought after on Bway and that is NOT because Jane Fonda made them dress up like scientists to perform Bunraku-prop manipulation and video Foley… Hopkins did!!!  And thank Saint Martin of Tours for her creative soul!

To translate from Ivan Bellman speak, if you don’t appreciate the first half of this performance then STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF and PAY ATTENTION!  It is not the show! It is YOU!!!  You don’t have to be a closet drinker or Experimental Theater Fag to appreciate it. I might help but it is not required.  The only thing that is required is that you go! Like Now!

It’s great.

And in the second-half you watch Cindy channel all sorts of demons and dead rockstars… like when she gestured to her crotch I swear I was watching Patti Smith.  Or maybe it was Michael Jackson.  Whatever.

Really good. Very moving.  I am getting choked up just thinking about it.

OK.

Gotta go.

So do you.

Love,
IAN BELTON writing as IVAN BELLMAN

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