The first Dialogue with Three Chords

The play line-up for our first night has been set!

We will be performing, on our feet with scripts in hand:

Tiny Hooks  


The Rebel Sound of Fuckin' Around


Instructions for Dancing


Fast Food Strategies

The first three are premiering at D3C. Fast Food Strategies has been work-shopped in front of an audience twice by Barefoot Theatre Company.

Cast list and Musical performer to be announced.

Dialogue with Three Chords
July 28th, 2011, 8pm - 10pm 
$3 Suggested Donation


Downstairs at Mr. Dennehy's Pub
63, Carmine Street,
Between 6th and 7th Avenue
NYC 

Digital Single

The first Rhythm & Detonation single.
Side A features frenetic drum patterns
and a groove that all but destroys itself
by the end.
Side B is a slow moving, dub influenced
piece that builds tension and resolves
into a distorted kick drum.

A: Shyfter

B: Distance

Announcing a Monthly Event

The fourth Thursday  of every month, Downstairs at Dennehy’s will host 
DIALOGUE WITH THREE CHORDS


A monthly collaboration between
playwright Stephen Gracia and director Michael LoPorto. 


D3C will feature new plays by Stephen, plus live music, poetry, 
and short plays by emerging playwrights. 


Start Date: Thursday, July 28th, 2011 8pm-10pm 


Mr. Dennehy's Irish Pub
Mr. Dennehys
63, Carmine Street,
New York, NY 10014
(212) 414 1223

Play

Mondrian Static

(Inspiration taken from the poem

Written with the Body, by Joao Cabral de Melo Neto)

A young woman lies on the floor, her feet toward the audience.

A young man enters and regards the audience, a series of painting on the wall.

He regards the woman.

They are dressed for a museum trip.

Philip:

Lovely aren’t they?

Jean:

They are.

Philip:

It took me a long time to come around to them, you know, the Mondrians.

Jean:

Yes, they aren’t normally the first paintings a person gravitates to.

Philip:

Intersecting lines, the boxes of color. The way they draw the eyes to specific points.

Jean:

Lovely.

Philip:

(Looks down at her, and then to the other side of the room)

Do you mind?

Jean:

Please go right ahead.

Philip:

(Steps over her)

Thank you.

Jean:

What made you reconsider them?

Phillip:

(Thinks on this)

Moving to the city did it. I grew up relatively far out in the country where it’s all flat lands and the occasional hill up against the skyline.

Jean:

So you preferred still life then?

Philip:

Not at all. I preferred movement. Movement abounds in even the quietest country landscape. Have you ever seen a breeze blow across a stalk of wheat?

Jean:

I can honestly say I haven’t.

Philip:

Every little bit seems to move in its own direction. It’s beautiful and subtle, and that’s what I was looking for: flow, movement…brushstrokes, which are….

Jean:

Evident in his color boxes.

Philip:

Yes, but it was the lines that drew me. The skyline of a city is all intersections. A new environment opened up an appreciation for his work. (Pause) I found the movement later.

Jean:

That’s beautiful.

Philip:

Thank you. (Pause) I suppose I should ask…

Jean:

Am I ok?

Philip:

Yes.

Jean:

Why ask now?

Philip:

(Shrugs)

I wasn’t so invested when I entered the room, but now after this very nice conversation, I find myself concerned.

Jean:

You’re concern is appreciated. I’m fine. (Pause) My name is Jean, by the way.

Philip:

Mine is Philip.

Jean:

Ha. If we were to end up husband and wife, our married name would be Jean-Philippe. It would be very French.

Philip:

No it wouldn’t.

Jean:

Yes it would. Jean-Philippe is a French name.

Philip:

No, I mean our married name would be some combination of our last names, not our first names.

Jean:

I know. Still.

Philip:

Still what?

Jean:

Mondrian developed this style in Paris.

Philip:

So?

Jean:

It’s just a pretty big coincidence is all I’m saying.

Philip:

You are a deeply weird person.

Jean:

It works for me.

Philip:

Yes it does.

(Pause)

Philip:

So, will somebody be…

Jean:

Yes. Museum security is being mobilized as we speak.

Philip:

You’d think they’d be here by now.

Jean:

No rush. I’m not actually touching any of the art.

Philip:

Your feet are up against the wall there.

Jean:

That’s not part of the art.

Philip:

That’s subjective.

Jean:

Ahhh…clever boy.

Philip:

Do you come to this museum a lot?

Jean:

All the time. It’s where I spend most of my lunch hours.

Philip:

And do you do this a lot?

Jean:

First time.

Philip:

Does it…is it a different perspective? Does it help you see something that I’m not seeing? (He crouches down and looks up at the paintings)

Jean:

I can’t imagine a more sterile, alienating place than a museum. Every exhibit sectioned off, a security perimeter around each piece, a guard whose job it is to ignore the paintings and instead stare at you. Couple after couple speaking in whispers if at all, and that’s if they even take each room at the same pace, most just split up. It’s a solitary experience that thoroughly depresses me.

Philip:

So why are you here…and on the floor?

Jean:

(Pause)

Waiting for a line to intersect with me.

(Long pause. Philip lies down, downstage,

horizontal, with his head on Jean’s ankle.)

Jean:

Thank you.

Philip:

My pleasure.

Jean:

Did you really not care enough to ask about my health when you walked in?

Philip:

No. (Pause) I just assumed it was one of you city people being weird, and I was too intimidated to ask.

Jean:

Fair enough.

Philip:

How long do you think we’ve got?

Jean:

Seconds. I can hear the thunder of rubber soled shoes coming down the hall.

Philip:

Right. (Pause) So, when they get here…will you let me convince them to lie down?

Jean:

My pleasure.

Over.

Mondrian Static by Stephen Gracia is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at approachingnoiselessly.blogspot.com.

Manifestos on Bathroom Walls.

Theatre can be many things. It can be spectacle: puppets and costumes and sets and huge casts. It can sprawl across three acts.

It can also be two people talking.

It can be street clothes and bare stages. It can be done in ten minutes. It just needs to be effective; it needs to communicate; it needs to transform.

Spectacle is good; it envelops you and thunders across you; it's arena rock. It's main stage magic.

This isn't that. This is basement theatre. This is dialogue with three chords.

Punks don't do fake Magik.

A Start.

It Begins - National Novel Writing Month

 

So, I've opted to give this a try, a novel about a cursed and rapidly degenerating family line, that is, at its heart, based around a single moment of Lovecraftian horror. The plan is to craft a haunted novel that is pulled together from narrative scraps, moving back and forth in time and ultimately ending beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. 

Let's see if this works out.....