Late one evening, a man was walking back from the store to his home. Moonlight trickled through tree limbs and Spanish moss like a stained glass canopy. The air was warm…and very still. Even the crickets had gone quiet as if they themselves didn’t want to disturb the now deafening silence. Sweat trickled down the back of the man’s neck, and yet he crossed his arms over himself and quickened his pace.
Upon passing the Second Presbyterian Church, the man caught wafts of voices echoing off of stone and brick. He stopped dead in his tracks to listen…
“I’ll take this one, you take that one”
“I’ll take that one, you take this one”
“You take this one, I’ll take…”
The conversation continued. The man amazed, realized that he was listening to God and the Devil in the midst of dividing up the souls that made their final resting place only a few yards away in the church’s graveyard. Worried he had lost his mind, he ran back to the store, made his plight, and convinced the store owner to come back with him to listen.
Elite New York sketch comedy group Harvard Sailing Team are planning a couple of writing workshops while they’re here for Piccolo.
The inventive youngsters don’t do many workshops, and this is an experiment for them to find out how many people in Charleston are hungry for comedy writing knowledge.
There’s just one problem: the classes aren’t in the Piccolo program and information about the Sketch Comedy Writing Classes has been thin on the ground.
I do know this much: the workshops are at Theatre 99 (home of the Have Nots!). They encompass live and video formats, they’re scheduled for May 27th & 28th from 12 to 3 p.m., and both workshops cover the same principles of idea-building and sketch development.
The two classes may be amalgamated depending on the number of sign-ups, so nothing’s set in stone yet. But this is definitely a good opportunity to find out how the team consistently comes up with its nuggest of comedy gold.
So I hung out for a couple of hours at the Reggae Block Dance on a night that turned surprisingly cool. It was a big crowd and seemed a happy one. Estimates from officials put attendance at about 2700 around 9:30 p.m. I was chatting with the staff of the Office of Cultural Affairs, who all were looking at a long day: From the Children’s Festival that started at 9 a.m. to the dance, which started at 7 p.m. and all the set-up and take-down that goes with it. There’s an awful lot that goes on behind the scenes to put on such massive events. Parks department personnel, according to Floyd “Ray” Swagerty, Jr., production manager of the city’s office of Cultural Affairs, worked almost around the clock to set up the opening ceremonies, Marion Square, the Sunset Serenade at the Custom House and then take most of it back down in two days.
Cultural affairs director Ellen Dressler Moryl stopped by with the latest logistical headache, trying to find a possible replacement for an ailing artist for a Sunday event. Warnell Berry the tenor/baritone slated to sing at Afternoon of Porgy and Bess was under the weather. “We’ll just start with ‘My Man is Gone,’ ” Moryl quipped. I was impressed that she still had a sense of humor. My guess is it’s a required survival skill in her position.
I had a wonderful, serendipitous meeting with members of Henry Turner Jr. and Flavor from Louisiana. The band drove up from Baton Rouge, a mere 17 hours by car. Apparently MapQuest made it look a lot easier than it turned out to be. They arrived about 4 a.m., says singer Nukie Miller. This was her first trip to Charleston, although the band played Piccolo a couple of years ago. The buzz on Miller is that she’s a rising star. 225BatonRouge.com calls her a “local soul tigress.” She’s no diva, though: down-to-earth and oozing soft-spoken charm. It’s a shame she won’t get to see the city, but here’s hoping she gets a chance to come back.
I’m not checking my facts here, but the observation stands: It sure feels like the hottest day of 2007 so far. Submitted as evidence: At the 4 p.m. official opening of the Piccolo Spoleto Finale at Hampton Park, there was not a single, solitary butt in the seats set up in front of the main stage.
Reason: Those seats were out in the open, under a sun that seems to have been set to “broil” earlier today. The shady spots were filling up, but it would be a stretch to say that they were filling up fast. When I left to file this post there was still parking available under the oaks on Cleveland Street, and that’s with the Adande African Drumming and Dance troupe soldiering on bravely down by the duck pond.
In short: If you’re checking in here before you head down to the finale, don’t rush. Things will be cooling off soon, and then the finale will really start to get its groove on. Today is a day to move at a sensible Lowcountry pace, which is to say: unhurried…
ME: (to peninsular waitress at end of lunch rush): “How are you today?”
WAITRESS:“I’m about ready to be done with Spoleto, I can tell you that.”
My waitress’ complaints:
Elderly patrons
From out-of-town
Specifically, North Carolina (ouch)
Don’t know what they want
Act suspicious, confused and hostile
Move slow, but in a hurry
“…they all want to split up their checks in these weird ways…”
“…they bark at you… I can understand that you need to get your check in a hurry because you have to make it to a show, but there are ways of doing it that don’t require barking.”
“I’m sorry to download on you, honey”, she said. “Whachu want to drank?”
Today’s video blog tells the story of an unlikely Piccolo Spoleto act: Sprockets, a family circus act that hails from exactly nowhere.
Partners Scott and Izzy and their 10-year-old son Theo have been on the road in a 1962 Bristol double-decker bus since 1997, when they set out to busk their way from England to Australia. Family friend Joe joined them two years ago in South America, and the bus only arrived in the United States three weeks ago. Its destination: Charleston, where Scott and Izzy believed their comedy-circus act had been booked as part of Piccolo Spoleto.
Only it hadn’t. Through some mix up, the roving circus had been assigned nothing more than the standard busking license that all street performers must buy.
So when Sprockets pulled into town (coasting down hills all the way from Alabama with a blown engine), the members faced an immediate quandry. Where could they park their bus? And how could they get on the Piccolo program at the last possible moment?
Answer: After booking a performance at Buist Academy early last week, the group persuaded Ellen Dressler Moryl, Charleston director of cultural affairs, to attend. The culture czarina liked what she saw, and with the city’s blessing Sprockets got a prime location on Marion Square.
This talented couple puts on their fun show daily at 2 p.m. Stop by and give them some love… and a donation. They’ve still got to get that engine fixed, and they’ve got to make it to Canada this summer…
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