Friday, October 25, 2013

How to Be Orange CHAPTER 11- SINT’S LITTLE HELPER

Excerpt 'How to Be Orange,' 2013 - 

CHAPTER 11- 
SINT’S LITTLE HELPER
‘You’re only here because you’re black.’
- Johan Cruyff to Edgar Davids



As a comedian, I love Zwarte Piet. Black Pete is good for business. Santa Claus has his elves; Sinterklaas has his negers. Some people say Zwarte Piet is racist, such as the group of people who protested the annual Sinterklaas parade with T-shirts saying ‘Zwarte Piet is Racisme.’ Of course, the cops arrested them. …Otherwise people might have noticed!

I remember a science fiction film, where the aliens emit a substance that makes humans thinks they’re adorable, instead of hideous. Zwarte Piet seems to emit a similar substance that works specifically on Dutch people.

For years, I’ve been performing shows at Boom Chicago Comedy Theater, making jokes about Zwarte Piet. The most entertaining bit is always after the show, when Dutch people passionately argue that Zwarte Piet is not really black. They insist: ‘It’s the soot from the chimney’ that gives Zwarte Piet his red lips, hoop earrings and afro.

I was invited to sit on a panel to discuss Zwarte Piet, and I said yes. The event was called ‘Zwart van Roet’ (black from soot). The panel was hosted by Quinsy Gario, the founder of ‘Zwarte Piet is Racisme.’ He’s also the one who was arrested – and beaten – for wearing his T-shirt at that Sinterklaas parade. Was he bitter? A little.

I decided to share my story about Zwarte Piet. It’s the same story I tell in the Zwarte Piet show at Boom Chicago. My kids are half-Dutch, and they love Zwarte Piet, But it got awkward when he came to our door.

My wife is Dutch, and – according to her – we celebrate Sinterklaas in the ‘traditional Dutch way.’ That is to say, we do it as simply as possible. We get a sack full of presents and we give it to the neighbor. The neighbor waits five minutes and drops the sack at our door. He rings the doorbell and runs away. The kids then open the door and – even though there’s no one there – they scream and cheer with glee. It’s the most cost-efficient theatrical trick ever devised. No costumes, no actors, just a sack of props and a huge result. Leave it to the Dutch.

One year, when my daughter was three, we finished dinner early and got ready for presents and pakjesavond. It was almost 6 o’clock, it was already dark, and – before my wife could say ‘Zwarte Piet will be here soon,’ we heard the doorbell ring. My wife looked at me to ask, ‘Did you go to the neighbor already?’ I shook my head no. But my daughter – being three years old – was already at the door. She yelled ‘Yay!’ and whipped open the door. And there, standing in the doorway, was a guy with a black face, dark curly hair and a brightly colored red & yellow outfit. The outfit said ‘DHL Post.’

Now I don’t know whose decision it was to send this guy out delivering packages on the 5th of December. But sure enough, my daughter was living the dream, her eyes filled with joy. I was looking at her, thinking, ‘Please, don’t say it...’ and moved towards her, but not quickly enough! She raised her hand and yelled, ‘Zwarte Piet!’

My wife and I were frozen, as the color drained from my face. Our eyes locked as we got whiter, and the DHL guy got redder. The American in me was paralyzed with shame: we’ve made my daughter a racist!’ But the Dutch part of me just said play along: ‘That’s right! It IS Zwarte Piet! Sometimes Papa has to sign Zwarte Piet’s Magic Clipboard! And Papa hopes Zwarte Piet never has to take the 5 December evening shift again.’

*



Consistently, after I tell that story onstage, I’ll have someone come up and ask if I made it up. ‘It’s not true, right? The part about your daughter pointing to a black person as Zwarte Piet?’ How could it not be true? It happens all the time.

At the ‘Zwart van Roet’ event, there were plenty of black Dutch people with the same story. One man said he was in a café in late November, when he found himself being laughed at. There was a four-year-old Dutch kid who’d called him Zwarte Piet. The man responded by telling the parents that people should know the difference: ‘No hat, no feather, no Piet!’ They just laughed at him. 

Another man had a kid point at him on the street and call him Zwarte Piet. He told the kid ‘I’m not buying presents for you.’ The man said the parents were so offended they wrote a letter to the newspaper claiming they had been victimized: ‘With that kind of attitude, this man is just asking for trouble.’

I’ve received similar feedback from telling my story online.
- 'These complainers are just hyper-correct white people or aggrieved descendants of slavery who look for a reason to complain. They're just the latest batch of moochers who would rather complain about nothing than do something with their lives.'

- ‘Every year, you people feel discriminated because of a little black makeup? Show a little character.’

- ‘Non-white people who complain should start their own tradition of dressing up in sandals and long hair because they’re all doing one big hippie imitation.’

And those were nice ones. Then there were these:
- ‘Shapiro, it’s simple. Follow our traditions or get out.’

- ‘To be honest, you sound like a twat. merry christmas numb nuts.’

(note: these comments were given anonymously or pseudonymously.) (note: they are reprinted with misspellings intact.) (note: the misspellings are not as bad as the comments left by some native speakers, so you can give them some credit.)

Further feedback highlights American holiday hypocrisy:
- ‘We’ll eliminate Sinterklaas, when you give up fat Santa.' 

- ‘How can Americans lecture us about Sinterklaas with their over-commercial Santa Claus? It’s like the Vatican lecturing us about child abuse.’

- ‘Santa Claus is helped by elves who are very small people. Is this not equally discriminatory?’

I’ve received so many comments that center on Santa’s elves that I feel I should point out a key distinction: an elf is modeled on a mythical creature. Zwarte Piet is not. For the comparison to hold true, the American tradition of Santa’s helpers would have to be some kind of ethnic Dutch stereotype. For that logic to hold up, Dutch people would have to be living in America and confronted at Christmastime with a character called, say, ‘Buck-Tooth Dutchie.’

Santa would always be accompanied by a bunch of Americans dressed up like Anky van Grunsven and dancing like horses. It may not be very flattering. Nor very accurate. And – when Dutch people would complain – the Americans would respond, ‘Don’t be silly! We love all you square-faced, square-teethed Dutch people. Now dance like a horse for us!’



*


The Zwarte Piet issue became clearer when Geert Wilders pulled out of the Dutch cabinet in 2012. There was a big headline in Spits, saying:
‘ZWARTE PIET VOOR WILDERS.’

To me, ‘Zwarte Piet for Widlers’ could only mean one thing: ‘Zwarte Piet Supports Wilders Politically.’ This seemed unlikely.

Or ‘ZWARTE PIET VOOR WILDERS’ could also mean a ‘Zwarte Piet is being given to Wilders,’ perhaps as a personal assistant. Then the black-face would offset the hair dye.

Or perhaps it was voor in the sense of before. As in  ‘We’d work with Zwarte Piet before we’d work with Wilders.’ That was closer to the truth. But also totally wrong.

I had to ask a Dutch friend of mine to explain it for me:
‘It’s obvious! “ZWARTE PIET VOOR WILDERS” means Wilders is taking the blame crashing the Cabinet.’

Me: ‘Okay. But why Zwarte Piet?

Dutch guy: ‘It’s from the card game, when you end up with the Joker. That’s the Zwarte Piet.’

Me: ‘So Zwarte Piet is The Joker? That would be an interesting Batman remake…’

Dutch guy: ‘No, Zwarte Piet means you take the blame, you lose. You get the Zwarte Piet.’

Me: ‘Ah. And of course Zwarte Piet isn’t really black – he’s just painted black. So “Wilders Is Being Painted Black.” Like zwartmaken?’

Dutch guy: ‘Yes! Zwartmaken is bad, Wilders is bad.’

Me: ‘So Zwarte Piet is bad – ?’

Dutch guy: ‘NO! Zwarte Piet is good!’

Me: ‘But if zwartmaken is bad then making someone black is bad…’

Dutch guy: ‘Well, Zwarte Piet isn’t really black. It’s just the soot from the chimney!’

Me: ‘Okay! So what’s the bad part? The soot is bad?’

Dutch guy: ‘No.’

Me: ‘Okay! Then the black-face is bad?’

Dutch guy: ‘No.’

Me: ‘Okay! Then just BEING black is bad.’

Dutch guy: ‘Yeah …but in a good way.’

*

Back to the ‘Zwart van Roet’ event. The guy behind the ‘Zwarte Piet is Racisme’ T-shirts is Quinsy Gario. A highlight of the Great Zwarte Piet debate was Quinsy sitting next to Jeroen, the director of the kids show Sinterklaas Journaal. You’ve got to give Jeroen some credit for showing up. He started by giving a compliment: ‘Intelligent debate so far. I admit, I’d assumed you’d all be just a bunch of “Bijlmer types.”’ (The Bijlmer area is renown for its high concentration of African and Caribbean citizens.)

Good old Dutch honesty. And, thus, whatever credit he’d had was immediately thrown out the window.

Jeroen of Sinterklaas Journaal went on to insist that Dutch people do not see Zwarte Piet as black. He insisted: ‘It’s just the soot from the chimney.’
I wished for his sake that he’d have brought his lawyer along: ‘Jeroen, did you not see the poster for the event? Did you not read the title?’
Further, Jeroen denied that the makeup for Zwarte Piet is called ‘Neger Zwart.’ While they debated that point, we watched as the technician did a Google search on the big screen onstage. Again, Jeroen insisted: ‘It’s not called “Neger Zwart”.’ And onscreen we were looking at several examples of makeup called ‘Neger Zwart.’

By the end, Jeroen admitted that maybe the depiction of Zwarte Piet could be seen as offensive to ‘certain’ people. He admitted that next year they should do things differently: they should write in a few lines about how Zwarte Piet is not really black.

I watched this year’s Sinterklaas Journaal. I didn’t see anything about how Zwarte Piet is not really black.

Yet, I also noticed that my daughter grew out of her phase. She no longer confuses black people with Zwarte Piet. In fact, when she was watching the (white) actor Eric van Muiswinkel on TV, she recognized him as the Head Zwarte Piet, even without the makeup.

To be honest, my kids are now old enough they no longer believe in Zwarte Piet, and they no longer want to celebrate Sinterklaas. 

What’s to become of Zwarte Piet? At the ‘Zwart van Roet’ event, there was an organizer who told how he went around to all the shops on the Bijlmerplein and lobbied them to remove Zwarte Piet imagery from their windows. I couldn’t help thinking: ‘Why waste your time with Hema shop windows?
The Hema headquarters is already at Bijlmerplein 355!’

It was by appealing to the management of Dutch confectioner Buys that they agreed to change the name of their traditional cookies ‘Neger Zoenen.’ (Zoenen means kisses.) (Neger you can guess.) After some pressure, the name of the chocolate covered marshmallow cookies was changed to simply ‘Zoenen.’ No shame, no blame. Just change the name.

Quinsy Gario ended his comments demanding that all Dutch people admit that Zwarte Piet is racism. I don’t see that happening. But I do see some signs of change. McDonalds had a whole ad campaign for a dessert with pepernoten – the traditional cookies thrown by Zwarte Piet. The ad featured a nighttime Amsterdam skyline, blanketed in snow. That was it. No Sinterklaas, no Zwarte Piet. It still got the point across.


But personally I hope Zwarte Piet won’t disappear. He really is great for business.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Artists Unite… and Tear Each Other Apart = part 2


Tonight is the opening of the Amsterdam Fringe. 

I just got back from the Edinburgh Fringe, and I’m eager to join in the buzz. I wonder if I should go hand out flyers for my show? (absolutely not)

The Edinburgh Fringe apparently had more shows than ever this year. And it was pretty crowded as far as I could tell. Yet I’ve never noticed the level of cutthroat turf battles I saw this year. 




- Int’l vs Fringe. Of course, it should be mentioned that the Fringe is itself a split-off from the International Festival. Now it’s much bigger than the Int’l Festival. But they’re cool.

- The Fringe vs. the Free Fringe. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival is such a mecca for comedians that it’s largely become a comedy festival. By now there is a conglomerate of venues, known as The Big 4 – aka ‘The Commercial Fringe.’ The Pleasance, Gilded Balloon, Assembly and Underbelly are all gathered around the Univ. of Edinburgh’s Bristo Square.
BUT – as an alternative to the Commercial Fringe – there’s the Free Fringe. It’s a collective of venues who agree to pass the hat instead of charging admission. They’re now at least 10 years old and have more venues and shows than ever. Recently, they’re also racking up something new: awards. (see previous blog 25 august) 

- SO maybe it's not financially impossible to put on a show in Edinburgh... http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-23778487

- AND maybe the Free Fringe will bring balance and harmony? NOT QUITE. Now there are TWO free fringes: The PBH Free Fringe and the Laughing Horse Free Fringe. Why? Because PBH = Peter Buckley Hill, and he had a falling out with the other guy, who stole his idea and started the split-off. Enough bad blood? Not even close!

- The biggest, most awkward rift is the Assembly situation. The Assembly Rooms closed down a few years ago for renovations. The organizers relocated the Assembly to be part of the Big 4 – temporarily. Meanwhile, you may ask, aren’t there any resident comedy clubs in Edinburgh? Don’t they take part in the Fringe? Why, yes – there’s The Stand. By Edinburgh, for Edinburgh.
The Stand run the Assembly ROOMS. The Brits run the Assembly FESTIVAL (as well as the others in the Big 4)

And – quicker than you can say ‘Scottish nationalism’ – somehow The Stand moved into the renovated Assembly Rooms instead of the original Assembly. The British owner of the Assembly name took his Eton-educated haughtiness straight to the Edinburgh city council and was reportedly laughed out of the building. Keeping his stiff, properly British upper lip, the Assembly changed its name to the Assembly Festival – with their own guide - and the Assembly Rooms also have their own guide.
The Assembly Festival has its traditional Spiegel Tent. The Assembly Rooms have recreated their old Spiegel Tent – known as the ‘Famous Spiegel Tent.’ The result of all this bitter rivalry is a lot of pissed-off punters showing up at the wrong place and wasting thousands of Pounds, giving the entire festival a bad name.

Hopefully, the Amsterdam Fringe will never succumb to such petty in-fighting. BUT – I just found out the show where I agreed to perform tonight is not part of the Fringe, but part of the Amsterdam Free Fringe… 
http://www.mezrab.nl/ 

I brought this to the attention of the Fringe director Anneke, and she said ‘the more the merrier! Tell them next time to answer their emails, and we’ll include them in the listings!’
I’ll tell them. 


http://www.amsterdamfringefestival.nl/

Artists Unite… and Tear Each Other Apart = part 1


Artists Unite… and Tear Each Other Apart = part 1

I love the Uitmarkt in Amsterdam. It’s Free Preview Weekend to kick off the theater season… and a chance for artists to elbow each other. 

I performed at Sugar Factory and brought flyers for my 3 different projects. A new record! But I also had the audacity to hand out flyers in public. At the festival. Where people go around collecting flyers. I was quickly reminded by Uitmarkt staff that this was not allowed. I asked why? Apparently my flyers were not allowed in that specific area (the high-budget productions).

Luckliy, there was also the Uitmarkt Book Festival, and I also had flyers for my book. Here, I was also told flyering was not allowed. This year for the first time, the Uitmarkt Book Festival is merging with Manuscripta – the annual festival to open the literary season. Publishers taking part in Manuscripta pay to get in. So I was basically mooching. I felt bad, since the current theme in Dutch publishing is crisis & cutbacks. I did take a moment to shout out loud – ‘Of course you’re not selling anything – YOU’RE PUBLISHING IN DUTCH!’ Other than being the 37th biggest language in the world, it’s just awful to listen to. I love the Dutch people – they’re the ones who legalized euthanasia. So why not let the Dutch language die already?

Meanwhile, the AmsterdamFringe is back in town, and there’s plenty of English / LNP (Language No Problem). Kickoff is tonight – see you there.
http://www.amsterdamfringefestival.nl/


Sunday, August 25, 2013

EDINBURGH FRINGINESS WINNING

Edinburgh Fringiness Winning
Greg Scott Shapiro 25 August, 2013

The Edinburgh Comedy Awards 2013 are a grand triumph for anyone who’s been worried that the Fringe is too commercial. In my mind, this proves the real Fringe is back.
BEST SHOW - BRIDGET CHRISTIE
BEST NEWCOMER – JOHN KEARNS
PANEL PRIZE ‘SPIRIT OF THE FRINGE’ – ADRIENNE TRUSCOTT


Consider: Bridget Christie’s show ‘A Bic for Her’ is on at 11.05am. It’s a rant on feminism (that doesn’t sacrifice angry for funny).

Consider: John Kearns ‘Sight Gags for Perverts’ is on at 17.05. It’s on at the PBH Free Fringe. Last year’s Best Newcomer Daniel Simonsen also came from the Free Fringe, didn’t he? Commercial productions be damned.

Consider: Adrienne Truscott’s show ‘Asking for It – a One-Lady Comedy about Rape Starring her Pussy and Little Else’ is as much performance art as it is comedy. The Truscott character is Adrienne Wau of the Wau Wau Sisters cabaret act. I spoke to her (having missed her show, F**k me) about her 5-star reviews, and she said she was totally surprised. Apparently, she’d heard one too many rape jokes and decided to do a show about it. Her message: ‘Dudes, if you’re going to make rape jokes, then at least make smart jokes.’
Shapiro L-R with Adrienne Wau, David Quirk, Zoe Lyons 


We spoke about performance art inspirations like Karen Finley & Annie Sprinkle. Perhaps that’s how she got the idea to perform the show naked from the waist down and to use her body as a canvas for projections. Appropriately, she also won the Malcolm Hardee Award for Comic Originality. When I spoke to her, she said she’s busy enough with the Sisters (they’re actual sisters). An she has no plans to continue Adrienne Truscott. But now that may change.

Also consider the venue where Truscott performed: ‘Heroes at Bob’s Bookshop.’ This is so free fringy it’s not even part of the official Free Fringe. It's a project started up by Bob Slayer, who's so alternative even alternative comedy doesn't know what to do with him. It’s in a bookshop. A small bookshop. You can tell how uncomfortable it was for male reviewers:


Apparently, this year’s Edinburgh Comedy Award panel had a hard time choosing. This is the first time in awhile there were 7 acts on the Shortlist for Best Show. (Personally, I had a hard time believing a couple of these names were on here.) Here’s who Bridget beat out:


Thanks to David Quirk for introducing me to Adrienne. Thanks to Facebook & Stewart Lee for introducing me to Bridget Christie.

Coming soon: Where should I put on my show at Fringe 2014? There are at least 3 Turf Wars going on – which  side to choose?  

Monday, July 8, 2013

The ‘Worst Show Ever’ – It Was Great


The ‘Worst Show Ever’ – It Was Great

Who would dare to invite people to the worst show ever? Yesterday a group of comedians got together to share their stories of the times when everything goes wrong, but the show must go on. It was sparsely attended but greatly appreciated. In fact, we may have invented a recurring format.

I was asked by MC Theater to organize an MC Tori (Surinamese for Story), a series of stories on a theme. Some of my favorite stories are the ones I hear backstage at a comedy event, when comedians try to top each other with the play-by-play of the worst gigs. ‘The Worst Show Ever’ is not about off-nights, jokes that don’t work, audiences that aren’t in the mood. Those are the lame shows.

The Worst Shows transcend all that and become great stories. Sometimes there’s a complete lack of planning, like when the promoter says ‘Start performing, and people will come watch,’ and you do your warmup for zero people. Other times, people stick to the plan too rigidly. Like the wedding where the DJ is supposed to play a special dedication for 2 special guests. But when the one who catches the bouquet happens to be a 14 year-old girl, and the guy who catches the garter belt is a 40 year-old loner, do you really have to play Marvin Gaye ‘Let’s Get it On?’

MY QUESTION was - would comedians want to share their stories in public? I was lucky enough to get some veteran Amsterdam comedians together.

(Bob Maclaren is Hawkeye here, but he couldn't make it Sunday.) (Rob is apparently Black Widow.) 

- Favorite StefanPop: performing for a Kids with Cancer event, having to do comedy directly after an extended story of a tragic 8 month-old who didn't make it.
- Favorite MaartenvanHinte: performing 'Scarface' theater piece (18+) in front of a last-minute addition to the audience, a group of 13 year-olds.
- Favorite Rob Andristplourde: performing a corporate event for the rebranding of Amsterdam WTC in 2005, with the edict: 'Do not mention Osama bin Laden.' Opening the show, the audience yells out 'Osama bin Laden!'
- Favorite JeffreySpalburg: FATU. The one where you make 500 people laugh their asses off. But there’s the 1 guy who frowns the whole time. He comes up to you after the show and gives you a lecture: ‘Your material needs nuance.‘
- My favorite story from WilkoTerwijn: the girl in the front row who threw a glass at his head 30 seconds into a show.  Afterward, he got a letter from the girl’s mother. Blaming him.

And I told the story of the corporate event when the organizer wanted us to combine role-play with improv. It sounded okay. He wanted us to portray the bosses from the New York office, telling everyone they were fired and then say: ‘Kidding!’ Not the best way to kick off a comedy show. They threw fruit at us, glassware broke onstage. And – to be honest – we deserved it.
And I didn’t even get to the story about portraying Osama for a NATO conference. Or dressing up as Sinterklaas and performing in a KLM 747. Or the show where some overzealous cameraman literally caught with my pants down.

I am honored to have been asked by MC Theater to organize. I am honored to have so much experience up there onstage to choose from. I hope I even helped make a statement about the arts in Amsterdam right now. Yes, there’s a crisis. Yes, funding is being cut. And – while theaters like Engelenbak say ‘Fuck you, then. We’re closing…’ There are some theaters, like MC Theater, who have their funding cut and say ‘Fuck you, we’re doing it anyway.’ I’m glad there were representatives of so many Amsterdam comedy institutions to get acquainted with the MC.


For good measure, I asked MC Theater for a stage set on the theme ‘Best Green Room Ever.’ They gave us a real dressing room with huge cooler full of beers – and fried chicken to close the show. Well done, MC Theater. Well done.

 http://www.mconline.nl/mconline/index.xql?id=/mc/producties/tori/mctori20122013



Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Daniel Kitson, ‘After the Beginning, Before the End’
(seen at Toomler 24 June, 2013)

http://www.danielkitson.com/Site/Kitson.html


Daniel Kitson has a bit of a cult following, particularly among the cult called 'Comedians.' When it was announced that he’d be playing a one-off of his show in Amsterdam on a Monday, the word spread as quickly as the expectations. He did not disappoint.

‘After the Beginning, Before the End’ features Kitson, sitting onstage behind a couple samplers. He accompanies himself with a minimalist soundtrack. His through-line is a recorded line of dialogue that gets longer every time. Technically, it wasn’t ‘stand-up comedy.’ It was much closer to what the Dutch would call ‘Cabaret,’ to what many people would call ‘performance art.’ It reminded me of the shows I’d go see in Edinburgh: early Simon Munnery or Noble & Silver.

To start things off, Kitson analyzes time-honored aphorisms, such as ‘You can’t take it with you’ and gets strong laughs:
‘They say “You can’t take it with you.” Meaning you can’t take your money with you, and you should spend more time on your loving relationships. But you know what else you can’t take with you? Loving relationships.’ After setting up & knocking down a number of them, Kitson concludes: ‘If it’s snappy, it’s crappy.’

Kitson thus begins the wonderful theme of his show, which is to question everything. His show felt like a comedy version of Rene Descartes presenting ‘Discourse on the Method:’ all we truly know is we are thinking at this moment ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Kitson questions if his own feelings about people are genuine. Are his feelings about himself genuine? Is his definition of self at all accurate? Why do people remember things about him that he’s edited out long ago? Miraculously, Kitson manages to tease out the Big Questions into genuine laughs. It’s like Louis CK’s bit with his daughter asking him ‘Why?’ But in this show Kitson is doing the asking. And he really does not stop.

What is The Self?
‘My definition of Self is based on a collection of memories. Which ones do I keep? And which ones do I conveniently edit out?’

He encounters a new fizzy drink, which he likes but doesn’t know why. He stops and meditates and realizes it’s because of a memory he’d shut out long ago, involving him essentially sucking on garbage.

At one point Kitson even admits he may have taken his self-analysis too far:
‘I bought a video projector and one of the bulbs broke. So I decided to take it all apart and see how it worked. And after I took the not-appropriate tool and had all the pieces spread out across my living room rug with some key pieces missing, I realized I’d never be able to put it all together again. Now it sits in a box in my loft gathering dust. I feel like I’ve done the same thing with my psyche.’

What is Truth? If everyone experiences everything differently, how can there be any universal truth? Is there any such thing as objectivity, when everyone’s version of events is so hopelessly corrupted by selective memory?

The show ends with the conclusion of the through-line story, whose narrator is – of course – unreliable. At least that’s the way Kitson remembers it.

It was a great show, and apparently he’s only got a couple performances left. Thankfully there were so many members of the Amsterdam comedy scene on hand to witness it. He raised the bar for everyone.

 Daniel Kitson, Comedian ‘After the Beginning, Before the End’
(seen at Toomler 24 June, 2013)

Daniel Kitson has a bit of a cult following, particularly among the cult of comedians. When it was announced that he’d be playing his one-off of his show in Amsterdam on a Monday, the word spread as quickly as the expectations. He did not disappoint.

‘After the Beginning, Before the End’ features Kitson, sitting onstage behind a couple samplers. He accompanies himself with a minimalist soundtrack. His through-line is a recorded line of dialogue that gets longer every time. Technically, it wasn’t ‘stand-up comedy.’ It was much closer to what the Dutch would call ‘Cabaret,’ to what many people would call ‘performance art.’ It reminded me of the shows I’d go see in Edinburgh: early Simon Munnery or Noble & Silver.

To start things off, Kitson analyzes time-honored aphorisms, such as ‘You can’t take it with you’ and gets strong laughs:
‘They say “You can’t take it with you.” Meaning you can’t take your money with you, and you should spend more time on your loving relationships. But you know what else you can’t take with you? Loving relationships.’ After setting up & knocking down a number of them, Kitson concludes: ‘If it’s snappy, it’s crappy.’

Kitson thus begins the wonderful theme of his show, which is to question everything. His show felt like a comedy version of Rene Descartes presenting ‘Discourse on the Method:’ all we truly know is we are thinking at this moment ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Kitson questions if his own feelings about people are genuine. Are his feelings about himself genuine? Is his definition of self at all accurate? Why do people remember things about him that he’s edited out long ago? Miraculously, Kitson manages to tease out the Big Questions into genuine laughs. It’s like Louis CK’s bit with his daughter asking him ‘Why?’ But in this show Kitson is doing the asking. And he really does not stop.

What is The Self?
‘My definition of Self is based on a collection of memories. Which ones do I keep? And which ones do I conveniently edit out?’

He encounters a new fizzy drink, which he likes but doesn’t know why. He stops and meditates and realizes it’s because of a memory he’d shut out long ago, involving him essentially sucking on garbage.

At one point Kitson even admits he may have taken his self-analysis too far:
‘I bought a video projector and one of the bulbs broke. So I decided to take it all apart and see how it worked. And after I took the not-appropriate tool and had all the pieces spread out across my living room rug with some key pieces missing, I realized I’d never be able to put it all together again. Now it sits in a box in my loft gathering dust. I feel like I’ve done the same thing with my psyche.’

What is Truth? If everyone experiences everything differently, how can there be any universal truth? Is there any such thing as objectivity, when everyone’s version of events is so hopelessly corrupted by selective memory?

The show ends with the conclusion of the through-line story, whose narrator is – of course – unreliable. At least that’s the way Kitson remembers it.

It was a great show, and apparently he’s only got a couple performances left. Thankfully there were so many members of the Amsterdam comedy scene on hand to witness it. He raised the bar for everyone.




Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Exam Season for Rutte: Let’s not repeat another year

Here's something political.

As a fan of DutchNews.nl, I’ve been following the news in Nederland closely. I was just taking a look back at the news of the year so far. And – since it’s exam season in the Netherlands – let’s see how the Rutte Cabinet is scoring.  
At least Rutte didn’t follow the trend of student exam cheaters this year. But maybe he should have. 
Does the Rutte Cabinet need to repeat a year? Actually, it feels like we just did.

Taking stock of where we are since 1 year ago, it’s remarkable how little has changed. It’s not for lack of trying.

- Insurance Reform.
Since Mark Rutte’s VVD kicked off the coalition with Labor PvdA, they promised some real reforms. They started with health care. My reaction was ‘why health care?’ Maybe, like Obama, they thought ‘this will be a nice warmup for what we really want to get done.’ Or it ends up taking your whole first term. As it turned out, Rutte didn’t get that far. His proposal for new insurance premiums drew so much criticism – from the EU as well – that they took it off the table. Back to the drawing board!

- Mortgage Reform.
This is a biggie. The Dutch rules for mortgage deductions are begging for reform. The Dutch mortgage system is so bizarrely Byzantine that even Wall Street circa 2007 would be impressed. The only people resisting are – everyone with a house. I myself have a mortgage based on the new rules from the 90s, whereby I’m paying, but not really paying. The reforms Rutte suggested would not have even affected me, just new homeowners starting in the future. But no! It was too controversial. Rutte took it off the table. Back to the drawing board!

- Budget Cuts.
A real kick in the teeth. After 2 painful rounds of budget cuts in previous years, the Rutte Cabinet now needs to cut even more. For a while, it looked like we might not have to…

- Labor Reform.
One of the VVD’s biggest priorities is labor market reform. They want to make it easier for businesses to hire & fire people. For this huge priority, Rutte delegated it to Labor. Actually, it seemed to pay off. Labor Vice-Prime Minister Lodewijk Asscher assembled a classic ‘Polder Model’ meeting of Government, big business and labor. Together, they came up with a plan to allow more redundancies – as long as we put off budget cuts for at least another year. Rutte agreed. We had a deal!
If only Mark Rutte could sell the plan to the EU. But no, they insist that rules are rules. To keep the budget deficit at 3%, the Dutch will have to cut next year’s budget – and not by 4.3 billion. But 6-8 billion.
The labor deal is off the table.  Back to the drawing board!

One bright spot may be the Dutch Chairman of the Eurogroup Jeroen Dijsselbloem. Finally a chance to provide Dutch leadership in the EU! Dijsselbloem was the first to suggest that failed banks should ask investors to share the burden with taxpayers. For this novel idea, he’s been effectively sidelined. How will the Dutch provide EU leadership? Back to the drawing board.

Don’t forget: Dutch energy policy needs a complete overhaul, as reported this week. Back to the drawing board.

Add to that the FYRA transport debacle. Back to the drawing board.


If there’s a theme to the past year, it’s ‘The Hokey Pokey Dance.’
You put your insurance reform in, you take your insurance reform out.
You put your mortgage reform in, you take your mortgage reform out.
You put your labor reform in, you take your labor reform out.
And you shake it all about…

Maybe a shakeup is what’s needed. A year ago, the Netherlands was being run by a ‘caretaker government’ – just to get us through until elections could be held. A year later, it still feels like a caretaker government. Is the Rutte Cabinet trying to tell us something?
 

Friday, May 24, 2013

Gushing over my brother's premiere in Cannes

Cannes 2013 – ‘Max Rose’ a film by Daniel Noah

He really did it.

I was lucky enough to go see my brother’s first film, and his debut in Cannes. I caught up with Noah the night before the premiere. Jerry Lewis had just flown in, and there was a dinner in his honor. Of course, he skipped it so he could sleep. So they had an extra place at the table, and I got to join in. I guess I eating Jerry’s food. Ha, ha – just kidding. It was at the Carlton Intercontinental, and since I arrived late I was offered nothing but quizzical stares by the overformal staff.

The overall mood on Wednesday night was more formal, reserved. People were nervous, I guessed. There were about 20 people at the table, including the principals Kerry Bishé & Kevin Pollak,. There was Lawrence the main investor and his other investors. And there was the Amanda, whom I got to meet at last. Very gracious and kind. I got to sit next to Mitchell White from the production team. He’s from New Orleans, and he did his best to keep the party going. As the evening wound down, someone from the local production team gave Noah his marching orders, and they were off.

On the day of the premiere, there was a press conference, which I missed. I’d stopped by the production / press office to get tickets, but I’d been put into the category ‘Access NO Areas.’ More than a film festival, Cannes is a Crowd Management festival, with all manner of partitions and dividers to let you know where you don’t belong.  I arrived an hour early for the film, which was clearly not enough time. What a crowd: young, old, French, American, black tie, casual. And they were all there with tickets saying ‘Max Rose un film du Daniel Noah.’ Also, there was a sizeable crowd of snapshot-seekers waiting for a glimpse of Jerry.

Noah was already inside at a Welcome Table with Kerry & Kevin, greeting and networking. Technically, the carpet was red. But the grand entrance was reserved for Le Jerry Lewis. There was a small army of photographers at the front (which I tripped over). As Jerry walked in, the crowd went wild. The audience whole audience was trying to get a picture of him. But he seated himself as quickly as possible and yelled ‘Start the film already!’ And the focus was on Noah, ‘the first-time director.’ He took the mic and gave a short intro. And the film began.

I loved it! Was there any evidence this was a first-time director? Not at all. Was it ‘typical Jerry Lewis?’ Not at all. It was very much a director’s film, very consciously utilizing Jerry Lewis’ screen presence to advance the story. If you’d never even heard of Jerry Lewis, what you’d see is an 87 year-old actor being very honest about what it’s like to be 87. That – says Noah – was the reason Lewis attached himself to this script. The story doesn’t shy away from wrinkles and bitterness and family dysfunction.

For me, the real bright spot of the film was Ms. Kerry Bishé as Max Rose’s granddaughter, Annie. The chemistry between Kerry and Jerry was just lovely. It needed to be exceptional for the story to work. Noah uses more pauses than Pinter, letting the actors play pure subtext. All it takes is a brief, overheard phone call, and you can tell that she’s not just everything to him – she’s sacrificing everything to be there for him. I’m crying a bit just thinking about it. The scenes with Kevin Pollak were painfully realistic. I could’ve used a bit more of that storyline, in retrospect. Perhaps that had to do with editing, which was – let’s remember – finished in record time to be ready for Cannes.

And what a treat to see such a parade of older actors. Fred Willard is great in his cameo. One of the first standup comedians, Mort Sahl, gets to shine. And the jazz improv scene with the whole group of old folks is pure joy. But Dean Stockwell steals the show, with a nicely executed climax. And then it was over. The film ends with a series of black & white images of Jerry Lewis as a young man, which got the whole room soggy-eyed. And in the credits there’s a dedication to Bob & Kate Loewy, which was hardly necessary for me. So much of the film is a loving ode to Grandpa Bob & Grandma Kate and their old house in Rogers Park. It just happened to have Jerry Lewis along the way.

He really did it. He pulled a rabbit out of a hat. To get that performance out of Jerry Lewis, as a first-time director? I don’t know how he did it. I suppose it was a blessing in disguise that this film was so long in the making. It was right after Jerry Lewis won his lifetime achievement Oscar that he attached himself to the film. That was years ago. Since then, through all the ups & downs and stops & starts of fundraising, Jerry & Noah have developed a nice rapport. Jerry Lewis has become ‘Grandpa Jerry.’ You could even see that after the screening.

What did people think of the film? It seemed the reaction was positive. There were people audibly laughing as well as crying throughout the screening. There was a sizeable round of applause at the end, and then –‘Jerry has left the building.’ Again I had to hustle to keep up with the entourage to beat the muscled ushers. (I’d had to sneak into the cinema after they’d tried to deny entrance to ticket-holders. I said ‘I’m the director’s brother- my name is Shapiro.’ That didn’t help. In fact, no one I talked to knew his real name.) (Freak.)

We were ushered over to an afterparty at a beach tent venue with a DJ and 7 euro beers. Jerry was long gone. Noah huddled up his cast – this was the first time they’d seen the final cut. All were positive. Noah only lamented that the sound at the cinema wasn’t up to par. He had invested a lot of time in the intricacies of the soundscape, which was lost at the screening. Ours was supposedly the second-largest venue, but it was a temporary structure. When the wind came in off the water, it sounded like our whole cube was about to lift off. I remembered thinking, ‘Cannes, really? For Le Jerry Lewis, this is the best you can do?’ But if the film does well, they may want to redo the sound anyway. And how can the film not do well? In the end it cost $1.85 million. That’s it. For Jerry Lewis’ last film and first drama. How could you not make your money back?

The evening ended with a more intimate group in a more intimate setting in the back of the best damn Italian restaurant I’ve experienced in a while. The mood was light years different from Wednesday. I actually got to know the team, especially Lawrence the Producer, who’s been such a part of Noah’s life, these last years. On Wednesday I’d felt self-conscious about introducing myself as the older brother (with not as many films at Cannes). But of course, that’s partly because I’ve chosen for my family. And how touching that the film ends on the same note.


Noah, you’re exceptional. Your first film is not only a decent film, but an important film. You deserve a huge career, and I can’t wait to see what you do from here.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Ranking the Standards Dutch v American


Ranking the Standards
17 May, 2013

Coming to the Netherlands from the US, I had trouble adapting to certain Dutch standards.
But having just visited the US, there are plenty of American standards that are clearly inferior. Maybe it’s time to set the record straight. 

Take for example the Dutch standard of counting. They still say their numbers with the 1's then the 10's. Hence, 24 is ‘4-and-twenty,’ which I can never say without thinking of medieval blackbirds. When Dutch people try to give you their phone numbers, it quickly gets ridiculous:
’06..’
I write down 06.
‘4 and fifty.’
I write down 45. ERASE! I go back and write it properly: 54.
‘6 and thirty.’
I write down 63. ERASE! Sorry: 36.
‘7’
That’s easy: 7.
‘3...’
I write down 3.
‘…times zero.’
ERASE! 
Hopeless.
USA 1, NED 0

But then there’s the American standard of giving the date: Month/Day/Year. Why do it our of order? 
That’s like saying Winter/Summer/Spring. Even the US customs system has given in to the international standard: Day/Month/Year.
Point Nederland.
USA 1, NED 1

Quotation marks. I don’t really care if you use the standard ‘single’ or “double.”  But do use them. Too many Dutch children’s books have little or random quotation marks. When I'm reading to my kids, I just sound stupid.
‘The farmer has chickens said Janneke. I like chickens said Jip.’
My kids protest that I’m not doing the voices right. 
'No I’m not kids, because there’s no punctuation. Good luck learning to read.'
Point America.
USA 2, NED 1

In buildings, there should be no such thing as 'Floor 0.' Do you count to ten by starting at zero? No. So why count floors that way? And by the way, they’re floors. The Dutch term verdiepingen refers to ‘going deep,’ while actually you’re climbing higher. No wonder MC Escher was Dutch. Point America.
USA 3, NED 1

But then we come to terminology. When the Dutch want a cola, they order a ‘cola.’ Try that in the US:
‘I’d like a cola.’
‘A cola? You mean like Coca-Cola?’
‘Yes.’
‘We don’t have Coca-Cola.’
‘What do you have?’
‘Pepsi.’
‘Which is a…?’
‘Cola.’
‘Which is why I ordered a cola.’
Point Nederland.
USA 3, NED 2

When the Dutch want a taxi, they order a ‘taxi.’ In the US, you get a taxi, OR you ‘get a cab.’ It’s not just that this term is outdated. It’s that the term refers to the front seat of a vehicle - where passengers are not supposed to sit. In most countries I’ve visited, if you try getting into the front seat, you’re probably a criminal. Ironically, the Netherlands is one of the few countries where it IS okay to sit in the front. And they still don’t say ‘cab.’
Point Nederland.
USA 3, NED 3

When Dutch people aim a cameraphone at you, they don’t ‘take a picture,’ they ‘make a picture.’ The Dutch way makes more makes sense. When Americans say ‘I want to take a picture,’ I always think of the tribespeople, who are afraid of the camera taking their souls. Either that, or I think of ‘Airplane,’ when the reporter says ‘Let’s take some pictures,’ and they steal the photos from the walls.
Nederland in the lead!
USA 3, NED 4

But then again, Dutch people don’t know how to make a decision. That’s because Dutch people don’t make a decision; they take a decision. Apparently, if you can’t make up your mind, you need to take a decision – most likely from someone else. This subject is especially tricky with Dutch politics. Ask the Dutch to make a decision about the economy, and they’ll take their decision from, say, Germany.
USA 4, NED 4

George W. Bush once said, ‘The French don’t have a word for entrepreneur.’  The Dutch, meanwhile, have multiple words for entrepreneur: ZZPer and ondernemer.  But ondernemer translates to ‘undertaker,’ which is just weird. 
No points.
USA 4, NED 4

The Dutch still haven’t come up with a decent term for ‘significant other.’ I’ve met too many Dutch men my age, who still don’t know how to refer to the female partner they’ve been living with for 10 years.
‘This is my… girlfriend.’
‘How long have you been dating?’
‘We’re not dating, we live together. She’s like my wife.’
‘How long have you been married?’
‘We’re not married… she’s my partner.’
‘So you’re in business?’
‘We’re not in business. She’s my …baby mama?’
Dutch people, you invented the term samenwonen. You really should figure out what to call the person you’re spending your life with. 
Point America.
USA 5, NED 4.

Americans have ‘gas stations,’ where you can get gasoline. But now you can also get natural gas. And anything you eat from there will give you gas. The term ‘gas station’ is terribly unspecific. The Dutch have ‘tank stations,’ which is only confusing if you’re driving a tank.
Point Nederland.
USA 5, NED 5.

Dutch people have ‘mobile numbers’ for their mobile phones. Americans have ‘cell numbers’ for their cellular phones - which is like saying 'molecular phones.' I know 'cellular' refers to the infrastructure, but the abbreviation is 'cell,' which is intolerable. When I give my American friends my ‘mobile number,’ they laugh at me, like I’m the idiot. Mobile number only means 1 thing: mobile phone number. Cell number only means 1 thing: you are in prison.
USA 5, NED 6

I’m sure there are more examples, but as of now it’s the Netherlands with more common-sense standards than the Yanks. If you’re like me, you’ll try to convert the Americans to say ‘taxi’ and ‘cola’ and ‘mobile number.’ Of course, it can be confusing. Just go your gang.


Friday, April 26, 2013

Marketing the Netherlands in a Crisis - A Terrible Idea Gone Wonderfully Right


Marketing the Netherlands in a Crisis - A Terrible Idea Gone Wonderfully Right
The ‘Fascinating Vriesland ‘ Viral Video
24 April, 2013

I’ve worked on some weird projects. But one terrible idea went horribly right.

In my line of work as a comedian / voice-over / writer, I’ve had all manner of bizarre pitches.
When the economy is chugging along, it’s easy to say no to the super-weird. But when the economy is in tatters, it’s surprising at what I’ll say yes to.
- I’ve moderated a corporate event, in character as a tech expert.
- I’ve done my solo show in the front entrance of a public building – with the doors open.
- I’ve done a standup comedy show in the nose of a 747, dressed as Sinterklaas.
And these are the projects that turned out well.

…Then there are the projects that are too far-fetched to survive. I was once in the voice-over booth, when the client said,
‘Can you try it again, a bit more convincing?’ I was not convincing enough.  
‘Can you try it a bit more authoritative?’ I was not authoritative enough.
‘Can you try to sound like Patrick Stewart?’
It was at that point I realized, ‘Are you looking for a British voice?’
‘Yes! Can you do that?’ No.
I should have known. But sometimes you can’t tell.

It’s alarming how long a project can survive, without anyone having a clear idea of what they want. So when I got the call for a ‘Fascinating Friesland’ voice-over, I was on Red Alert.

The call came via my management office. Some guy was looking for a native English speaker to come to Friesland for a voice-over.
I asked if the taping could be in Amsterdam.
‘Sure,’ was the answer. Hmmm… Way too easy.
I asked what kind of studio set up they had.
‘We’ll figure something out,’ was the answer. Again way too easy.
I asked about the text.
‘We’re still working on it… In fact, could you translate it?’
This was a recipe for disaster. So of course, I said yes.

2 guys showed up at the office: a guy about my age with a Croatian accent and a young Dutch guy, who turned out to be the intern. Mr. Croatian explained that he’d moved to Friesland years ago, and he’d gone native. He spoke English, Croatian, Dutch and – of course - Fries. He explained that the marketing department for the Province of Friesland had been almost completely laid-off. The entire tourism industry of Friesland was now down to 1 man. But he had just enough budget to make a funny, quirky online video.

Luckily, the text was okay. I translated it, punched it up a bit, and read it into the portable mic they’d set up. I told him, ‘with the right visuals, it could be like that video from last year “The Difference Between Holland and The Netherlands.”’ Amazingly, they wouldn’t give him permission to use their visuals. The publicly funded broadcaster ‘Omroep Vryslan’ didn’t feel the need to cooperate with Friesland Marketing. This gives new meaning to the term ‘Provincial.’

Sure enough, the producer found the images anyway. He released it yesterday, and today it already has about 50,000 views on YouTube. (And now, suddenly, Omroep Fryslan wants a copy.)

And so, if Friesland is to pull itself through this economic crisis, it may well be thanks to a Croatian immigrant, his Frisian intern, and an American Netherlander.