YOU are my baby blanket

it IS the most wonderful time of the year, because this is when you stop and recognize all of your incredible friends and family, instead of just taking them for granted, like you do the rest of the year.

those close to me know that the last couple of months have been tumultuous- lotta battles, hard work, some pretty tough times, and moments of great joy. one thing is clear- i would NOT be able to deal if i were all alone. it's why i love the beatles song: i definitely do get by 'with a little help from my friends.'

and even if i haven't talked to you in months you've helped- because i know you're there. because you make up the patchwork quilt of friends and family that gives me security.

that's why i want to say thank you. thank you for being the baby blanket i clutch, for being the thumb that i rigorously suck.

have an amazing new year, everyone.

halloween part two

a much better picture of the aforementioned costumes. we're pictured with second-year actor sean in his "chuck norris... from the future" costume.

happy hallowed eve

my classmate adel and i in our enigmatic halloween costumes. don't ask what we were- wearing orange jumpsuits and mustaches is costume enough without affixing a label to it.

duuuuh...

All my life, from childhood to now, I've been taught to keep my mouth closed. I would mentally make fun of people who walked around with their mouth open. I even played a character in college who always had his jaw dropped because the guy was supposed to be a little 'slow.'

As it turns out, holding your jaw all the time creates tension that radiates to other parts of your body. Especially when you're performing a phsyical activity such as sports, exercise, household chores, or acting, it will only benefit you to loosen your jaw and let your lips part, even just a little bit. You even listen better with your jaw hanging.

It's why Michael Jordan always had his tongue out when he made a spectacular dunk. It's one of the things that made Muhammad Ali great- go back and watch the video. (Although it did contribute to his getting his jaw broken by an opponent once.)

Next time you see somebody on the bus or in a movie theater with his jaw hanging slack- don't hate. He may just be a trained actor.

... keep on truckin' ...

Pictured is my classmate Kristen, after she took me up on a challenge: I said she couldn't bridge-walk all the way from a friend's apartment to the theatre- almost three quarters of a mile. She didn't make it all the way, but she did go for almost two hours before she finally collapsed in a dirty, sweaty heap of jelly. She went nearly half a mile, and immediately became a mascot for the optimism, perserverance, and sheer bull-headedness of my class.

It's been awfully long since I last updated my blog, and I have no excuse beyond the old classic "I've been soooooo busy..." In truth, I've been putting it off- for the same reason that I've started about 17 diaries and journals in my lifetime, only to stop within a couple of months. I get the notion that I have to faithfully catalogue my entire life, and if I get behind, then I feel like I'll have a huge amount to write in order to catch up.

But, it's occurred to me that none of us needs a complete record of my daily life. This blog can be just like my long-distance friendships: patchwork, piecemeal, and totally fine.

I'm fully in the thick wilderness of my first year at A.R.T. It is such an overwhelming and thorough process that it's easy to forget that there are wars and national/natural tragedies going on and become obsessed with what's truly important, like how I form my vowels.

I'm in class morning, noon, and night, six days a week, with Mondays off. I have three different acting classes, four voice classes, movement, yoga, Alexander technique, singing, drama literature, and Russian class, and most of these meet multiple times a week. When I'm not injured, pissed off about getting up early every day, or down on myself for feeling like I don't know ANYthing, I remember that this is a pretty amazing way to spend all my time for two years.

There's no time to spend analyzing how I feel about everything anyway, because I wake up and there's a whole new day of classes ahead. Like my classmate Kristen, you just grit your teeth (my voice teacher would say, "No you don't! You loosen your jaw!"), and take another step. And, if she can do it upside-down on all fours, I should have no problem upright.

Thanks to my family and friends for your continued interest in my life and for your words of love and support!

More soon!

beef day!

this is a belated pic from my 28th birthday party, aka the beefday party.

it was thusly named because one of my favorite classmates (pictured) shares my birthday, and he is affectionately known to our entire class as Beef. so we figured since i love beef, and he is beef, we'd call it the beefday party and throw it at cambridge's only serious barbecue joint, redbones.

we had a blast, eating way too much meat and drinking a couple too many margaritas. look closely and notice that i am wearing a boy scout shirt, ironic since i never was a boy scout and Beef is an eagle scout! luckily, he was very forgiving of my sacrilege.

just like that? you're walking out on me?

I'm in the last week of my first session at A.R.T. It's been a lightning-quick two months, and yet it's amazing how far we've come in this time.

I can spell in two new alphabets: the Russian alphabet and I.P.A. annotation. (IPA stands for International Phonetic Alphabet- with IPA one can essentially 'spell' pronunciation for any word, including every word in English in every single potential dialect in which an actor might wish to speak it.)

I can do a headstand, a handstand, four kinds of bridges, ambulating bridges (forwards, backwards, and rolling), a chair roll, a crocodile, a jumping crocodile, a backwards somersault, a running somersault, a fish flop, a flying caterpillar, and a Russian cartwheel!

I've learned how to let my body tremor in 6 different positions in order to encourage the breath response that is perfect for voice work.

I can count, make small talk, and describe simply in Russian.

After two months of basic exercises and ensemble-building in daily acting classes, I've become unnaturally close to 18 exciting, challenging, and fantastic people.

And this was the 'light' term!

I can't wait to see what September brings.

Chairs and Structure

BNN Finally Makes the Complete Shift to Blog Format

It became clear to the editors here at the Big Neil Newsletter that the 3 Headline, 3 Story newsletter format is antiquated, and can sometimes prove daunting when there's less to report. So, from here on out, posts will appear in single headline, single story format. Woo hoo!

Pictured is my acting class after the 'chair sculpture' exercise. Yes, we build a sculpture out of chairs. And yes, it has something, somehow to do with acting. Just don't ask me what.

2.4.2 Big Fun

From left: Chris, me, Cheryl, and birthday girl Emmy Lou. Foreground: Bud.

2.4.1 The Ladies of 2007

From left: Emmy Lou (whose birthday it was last night), Natalie, Jackie, and Kristen, members of the prestigious class of 2007 with yours truly.

2.4 "Several pounds of spicy meat..."

The Big Neil Newsletter, Series 2, Volume 4.

Today's headlines:

1. One Month In, Graduate School Still Cool

2. BTP Keeps the Home Fires Burning

3. Russia Knows How to Party


1. One Month In, Graduate School Still Cool

Classes have continued to be engaging, overwhelming, and totally fun. We've begun singing lessons, which is both scary and awesome. In voice class I'm learning to move my rib cage in what feels like totally unnatural ways. In movement, I'm already surprising myself with headstands and walking bridges and the uber-painful jumping caterpillar! In our acting 'etudes,' I've portrayed a gorilla, a coat hanger, an inadvertent puppy-killer, a drifting born-again sidewalk evangelist, and a murderous tyrannical king. If I don't yet demonstrate skill, at least I demonstrate range!

2. BTP Keeps the Home Fires Burning

The last weekend of July, I took a whirlwind trip to Florida for two days. I was able to go see the Broadway Theatre Project's final show, in an effort not to have missed BTP entirely in 2005. It was a bittersweet opportunity- fantastic to see everyone, and the great show, but, in truth, I had missed it entirely. What makes BTP amazing is the atmosphere of learning, working, craft, and process- the final show is just the button on the end of it all. I hope to be back and part of the whole shebang again in 2006.

While in Florida, I also, thankfully, got to visit Monica and see her perform in a special benefit performance of The Exonerated with the likes of Sandy Duncan and World Lightweight Boxing Champion Antonio Tarver. At first I noted that Tarver was out of his league in the company of Ms. Duncan and Monica, but then it occurred to me that neither woman would last 30 seconds in the boxing ring with him, and I became a lot more forgiving. It was a fun cocktail of actors and celebrities and non-actor local luminaries, and the play itself, if you've never read it, absoulutely compelling.

3. Russia Knows How to Party

It is a tradition in the summer here at ART for the first-year students to throw a couple of 'Russian Parties' for our Russkie faculty. Last night was the first, and my head is still ringing.

The potluck party was hosted by my good friend Aaron (yes, the wacky Canadian Blue-Jays-Jersey guy) and he noted that most people had signed up to bring things like 'paper plates' and 'cookies,' and that a main course was desperately needed. So my classmate Beef and I went to the grocery store and got the fixins for what any party with overflowing vodka needs: TACOS!!

It occurred to me an hour later as we were whipping up several pounds of spicy meat that not only was I grossly mixing cultures, but I was not helping things by preparing it all in a giant wok.


The party was an absolute blast, and we quickly learned that our professor Romon has as much to teach us about making toasts and drinking vodka in general as he does about acting. Unfortunately, as the night wore on, one thing many of my classmates didn't learn was that just because Romon can toss them back all night without ever appearing inebriated, much less making a fool of himself, the rest of us, most definitely, CAN'T.

All in the name of group bonding, I guess.

I miss you all, love getting your notes, and hearing your responses to my wayward newsletter/blog ramblings.

Yours,
Neil

2.3 "Thank you my American friends."

The Big Neil Newsletter, Series 2, Volume 3

Today's headlines:

1. Graduate School is Like, Hard and Stuff

2. Big Neil's Newest Prized Possession is Little Plastic ID Card that Says He Goes to Harvard

3. Big Neil Misses You

1. Graduate School is Like, Hard and Stuff

Last I wrote, I was quaking in anticipation of my first day of school. I was scared for good reason. Graduate school is like, hard and stuff.

Six days a week we kick off the day with a rockin' three and a half hour acting class. Our teacher Romon is exceptional, but it's truly thanks to our interpreter Tatiana that we learn anything at all. Romon teaches in Russian, and the only English phrases he mutters are "OK" (maybe that one's international?) and at the end of every class, "Thank you my American friends." It's a nice goodbye, but there's something oddly chilling about it. Romon's teachers' teachers' were students of Stanislavksi himself, so naturally I am swallowing up every pearl of wisdom just as quickly as it can get from Romon's brain to Tatiana's mouth to my ear.

We're hard at work at learning Russian, which is apparently going to be no small feat. Truly, it wouldn't be that challenging if it weren't for that whole pesky 'grammar' thing. The alphabet was what initially scared me, but it's turned out to be fun and relatively easy to learn with time- although to read I still have to 'decode' each letter and sound the word out bit by bit. It really is weird how the Russian alphabet shares letters with our alphabet, but most of them have different sounds. 'H,' for example, sounds like 'N,' and the backwards 'N' in their alphabet sounds like 'EE.' There is also a letter in Russian that looks like a lowercase 'B,' but sounds something along the lines of "ewwulh." Our attempts to master that baffling pronunciation sounds like a classroom of people about to vomit, and sends our teacher (also, coincidentally named Tatiana) into peals of red-faced laughter.

Voice class is the most foreign to me, since I've never been trained in voice before. We begin with breathing, something I apparently mistakenly thought I already knew how to do. The subject matter defies vocabulary, so in order to grasp the concept, we spend hours lying on the floor with our eyes closed, trying to imagine our feet swelling with every breath and concave membranous kites undulating in our pelvic region. I'm as confused as you are.

Theatre History so far has been Russian history, which is just fine with me- I find it all interesting.

But the true butt-kicker has been Movement. We knew our teacher, Andrei Dreznin, was somewhat of a legend in Russia, and the creator of a whole system of movement, so we expected a ripplingly-muscled handlebar-mustached man to come bounding into the room on the first day of class. Instead we were greeted by a soft-spoken RAIL-thin older gentleman in a three-piece wool suit (in July, I might point out). I think I would have preferred the strongman. With his thick accent and calm demeanor he talks us into a series of contortions, stretches, and acrobatics that turn me into an immobile puddle of sweat sprawled out on the floor at the end of every class. Truly, it's harrowing how much pain you can put yourself through in the name of fitness and grace.

A monster of a schedule, in my opinion, but the teachers are all quick to point out that this is the summer term, which is by far the 'lightest and easiest' of our tenure here. Oh boy.

2. Big Neil's Newest Prized Possession is Little Plastic ID Card that Says He Goes to Harvard

Truly, it's fantastic. My face on a Harvard ID just feels like pure comedy. It's getting framed when I'm done with it.

Harvard itself has been a great place to get to know, and so far the people have all been friendly and fantastic. We'll see if that changes in the fall when all the snotty freshmen show up.

3. Big Neil Misses You

Truly I do. I'm making friends fast, but at the end of the day, I still feel pretty alone up here. Your friendly notes have done a lot for my spirits!

Thanks so much for your love and interest!

Yours,

Neil

2.2.2 The Grill.... MASTER!

Supplementary Picture:
Notice the insert with my beautiful burgers...

2.2.1 What a beauty. Monica looks good too.

Supplementary Picture:
Monica and I didn't let T crowds and no tickets to Fenway spoil our afternoon.

2.2 "Get out of the bronze age already."

The Big Neil Newsletter, Series 2, Volume 2

Today's headlines:

1. The Big Neil Newsletter Goes the Way of the Blog!

2. Boston Does the Fourth of July Right: Too Many Sweaty, Drunk People in Too Little Space

3. Big Neil Bewilders New Housemates with the Gift of "A Taste of Sri Lanka"


1. The Big Neil Newsletter Goes the Way of the Blog!

After a few subscribers exhorted me to get out of the bronze age already, I relented and set up this next generation of Big Neil Newsletters online. Now, subscribers have options: 1. Continue to receive the full text of each newsletter, right in your inbox. This is the default choice, so you needn't do a thing. 2. Receive an email with a link to the blog every time it has been updated. Simply let me know if you prefer this, and I will accomodate. 3. Unsubscribe from the email list, and visit the blog on your own, checking for updates as you like. Let me know, and I will remove you from the email list.

What's the benefit for visiting the BNN in blog form? Well, besides a cooler looking design, you get pictures! And you can make public comments on each entry if you like. And you'd be part of the cutting-edge hip blogger scene. Because sending mass emails is soooo 2003.

The link is, appropriately: http://ilovebigneil.blogspot.com/.

2. Boston Does the Fourth of July Right: Too Many Sweaty, Drunk People in Too Little Space

A few classmates of mine and I thought it would be fitting to go to Fenway Park on Sunday to observe America's pastime as the Red Sox took on the Blue Jays. What we ended up observing, however, was the inside of a T train filled to the brim with swarthy Red Sox fans, who were all eyeing my classmate Aaron with furrowed brows- he opted to go to the game in full Blue Jays regalia, down to the pristine MLB-authorized jersey. When we finally made it out of the train, we spent the afternoon on the sun-drenched sidewalk, 'striking out' when it came to finding tickets. When we eventually decided to give up and head home, well into the fourth inning, the lowest priced tickets available were $90. We had fun anyway!

Yesterday, the fourth, was much more successful, but would bring even more bouts of wall-to-wall sweaty people. My classmates Nikki and Aaron (yes, the wacky nut who goes to Fenway in a Blue Jays jersey) hosted a barbecue, and I was appointed to my favorite position: grill master. We feasted well on sloppy hamburgers, hot dogs, corn on the cob, and toasted marshmallows. Many classmates of mine showed up, as well as second-years and other people in A.R.T.'s employ. Before we knew it, the back porch was a sardine can of engorged, glutted actors.

At that point we decided to abandon the pit of empty beer cans, soggy chips, grease-spattered paper plates and head off as a small army in search of fireworks. We walked along the river on Memorial Drive for what had to be three miles or more, just in time to witness the fireworks in all their glory. And truly, they were spectacular. The biggest ones were so enormous they filled my entire field of vision and my body rattled with each blast. I couldn't resist looking behind me a couple of times to look at the sea of faces in the flickering light, each one held fast in rapturous attention. For a moment, I felt truly patriotic- part of a grand, unified family- and then a classmate yelled in my ear, "Woah, look at those ones, they're like giant radioactive sperm!"

On the way back, Monica and I spent over an hour stuck underground on the T in between Central Square and Harvard. It was packed in tighter than the day before, and a couple people passed out from the heat and lack of oxygen. The guy behind me had a case of 'train rage.' We should have walked the whole way.

3. Big Neil Bewilders New Housemates with the Gift of "A Taste of Sri Lanka"

In an effort to win over my housemates, tonight Monica and I decided to cook dinner for everybody. One of them is a vegetarian, and if I've cooked for you before, you'll remember that it had meat in it. Luckily, for Christmas last year my sister sent me a cornucopia of Indian and Sri Lankan spices, sauces, and unclassifiable substances, with a handmade book of recipes. In truth, I had been nervous to attempt the cuisine before, but tonight we were richly rewarded (thanks to the quality and exactitude of my sister's recipes, not to any particular cooking prowess on my part). We had tomato curry, masoor dal, and thel dala. I feel worldly.

My housemates Christine, Margaret, and Eliza (Harvard grad students all) seemed to have a good time. That's a good thing, because tomorrow A.R.T. begins and I'm unlikely to see much of them ever again.

4. In Conclusion

It's safe to say that I am pretty scared about beginning school tomorrow. At the same time, I'm impatient to get started. I'm like the guy who's been standing in line forever waiting to bungee jump.

I miss my family and friends (all of you). At the same time, I'm really liking my classmates. I guess they'll be my family for the next two years.

On Thursday Monica leaves to join her friends for a vacation in New Orleans. I don't know when we'll be in the same place next, but it's likely a long time from now. I'll miss her something FIERCE.

Let's hope my next newsletter is not a blubbering mass of emotional jelly.

Thanks for all your emails and words of encouragement!!

Love and affection,

Neil

2.1 "I signed you up."

The Big Neil Newsletter, Series 2, Volume 1

Today's headlines:

1. The Big Neil Newsletter is Back!

2. Big Neil Not in Your City, State; is in Your Hearts, Minds

3. Big Neil So Attention-Starved in Scary New City He Resorts to the Egoistic Practice of Writing Meandering Emails about the Mundane Details of his Life to Anyone Who Will Listen


1. The Big Neil Newsletter is Back!
Hello friends, Romans, and those lucky enough to be related to me by blood... Due to popular demand (no, really!) the Big Neil Newsletter is back after a multi-year hiatus.

Many of you were not subscribed to the original BNN, and may be thinking, "What is all this? Has Big Neil snapped?" The answer is, of course, "A newsletter and yes." The newsletter is just that, an update on all things Neil, usually with some humorous way I made a fool of myself that week, and ideally with some uplifting conclusion a la the "Final Thought" of that daytime guru of everyday wisdom, Jerry Springer.

At this point, some of you are thinking "Man, I must have been really drunk when I signed up for this." Well, you didn't sign up for it. I signed you up. And I know that newsletters are just not some people's 'thing.' Simply reply to this email indicating your desire to be removed from the list and I will not take it personally in the least.

Also, this issue is unique because the list of subscribers has not been blind carbon-copied... i.e., everyone can see who is receiving this first issue. The reason for this is I am counting on you to let me know if you think there is somebody I've left out, or you see a misspelled email, etc... I particularly encourage family members to help me compile a relatively complete list.

2. Big Neil Not in Your City, State; is in Your Hearts, Minds
On Monday, with all my worldly possessions "tetris'ed" in the cab behind me (thank you to Monica, Bryan, Ryan, Buffalo, Emilee, and Paddy) I left NYC behind and made my way in a fourteen-foot U-Haul truck to Cambridge. Next Thursday is my first day of classes at the American Repertory Theatre's Institute for Advanced Theatre Training at Harvard University. (That was the official title; hereafter, A.R.T.) Not much else to report besides the fact that I can tell Cambridge and A.R.T. are not unlike the cardboard boxes that I am currently surrounded by- they are riddled with mysteries and potential, just waiting for me to open them up. Stay tuned for the no-doubt ensuing adventures.

3. Big Neil So Attention-Starved in Scary New City He Resorts to the Egoistic Practice of Writing Meandering Emails about the Mundane Details of his Life to Anyone Who Will Listen
Well, that's clearly self-explanatory.

4. In Conclusion
You can definitely tell by now whether you're going to find receiving these enjoyable and worthwhile, or tedious and annoying. I'd like to reiterate that I shant mind it if you express your wish to learn the news of Neil through other, more conventional mediums. To the rest of you, welcome! I anticipate a very exciting year ahead, and that means very exciting newsletters.