Originally published at The Many Hats of Jason Specland. Please leave any comments there.

You’d think that, being a They Might Be Giants fan myself, that I’d pushed Benjamin into loving TMBG more than anything else in the world. Unless there’s a genetic component to musical taste, (which has been confirmed to be not true by generations of teenagers) Benjamin has picked up this love all on his own.

Case in point…

Originally published at The Many Hats of Jason Specland. Please leave any comments there.

So, last night, as predicted, Paula, Mickey, and Carlos, a.k.a. The Icky House Club, rocked the house at the Duplex. I was on photography duty. Alas, it was something of a tough room for photography, but I think I got a few decent shots.

The rest of the Icky House Club Photos can be found by clicking appropriately.

Originally published at The Many Hats of Jason Specland. Please leave any comments there.

This is a pretty new blog (or rather, a new location for a pretty old blog), and I’ve already spent a great deal of time extolling the virtues of my beautiful and talented wife, Paula.

Well, I’m going to have to do that again, so bear with me.

My wife is part of a truly wonderful musical group known as “The Icky House Club.”

I’ve actually known all three members of this group for quite a while.  Naturally, I’ve known my wife for a good long time.  Carlos, the other singer, is a very good friend of mine with the most gorgeous tenor voice you’ve ever heard.  We were in a production of “Children of Eden” together.  (He played Adam.  I played third schlub from the left.)  Mickey, the guitarist, front-man, songwriter, and other other singer is also a good, long-time friend, although I’ve actually known him as a performer and songwriter for longer than I have as a friend.  He, too, is brilliant.

The musical result is a whole that is far greater than the sum of its parts.  I’ve seen different incarnations of Mickey’s bands before, but Mickey, Paula, and Carlos make a perfect trio of vocal harmonies.  It’s as smooth and rich as butter wrapped in silk.

I don’t go around plugging shows all that often, and I wish there was a way to convince you that it’s not just because Paula’s my wife, and Carlos and Mickey are my friends.  They really are that good.  Please, if you can, do me a favor and go check out their show.  I promise, upon my honor, you won’t regret it.

The Icky House Club: Lost in Playland
With Special Guest: Uke Skywalker
Friday, November 13, 2009, at 7:00 PM
The Duplex: 61 Christopher St., NYC
$10 cover and 2 drink minimum

Originally published at The Many Hats of Jason Specland. Please leave any comments there.

This is mostly for my own educational benefit.  Feel free to ignore, especially if you’re not into improv esoterics.

Yesterday evening was my fourth improv class, and my third attempt at performance on the stage of the PIT during their Wednesday night Improdome free-for-all.  To recap: My first performance was a miserable failure.  My second was an encouraging success.   Last night, my third performance, has turned out to be an instructive failure.

It’s interesting to discover that the primary problem that ended my improv “career” before it could really start is the same primary problem I’m experiencing now:  Not trusting my partners leads me to jump headlong into huge initiations and I kind of “take over” the scene, which never actually goes well.

Sometimes I think the solution to that problem is to hang back a bit, and wait for my partner’s initiation.  That’s somewhat useful, but not entirely so, especially when you do have a strong initiation in mind, and your partner does not.  And if your partner does not have a strong initiation, the panic sets in, and there goes the trust, and then… things don’t go well.

After analyzing my performance both in class and on stage last night, I think that it’s not strong initiations I should fear.  It’s initiations that are not grounded in emotional honesty.  My mind conjures the situation so fast that it doesn’t take the time to put any flesh on the bones of the character, which comes out as a broad stereotype at best.  Taking just a brief moment to imbue the character with some emotional truth will probably help a lot.

There’s a reason that the bible of the craft is called “Truth in Comedy.”  When I got home last night, I pulled the book from my shelf.  I haven’t read it in years.  It’s time to crack it open, before I set foot on the improv stage again.

Originally published at The Many Hats of Jason Specland. Please leave any comments there.

In life, I believe, you’re allowed to marry one person, and one foodstuff.  Almost six years ago, I made the wonderfully fateful decision to marry Paula Galloway and I couldn’t be happier.  I have not, however, been able to commit to a foodstuff as completely and unabashedly as I have to a woman.

Until now…

I am hereby announcing my intent to food-marry.  I will be married to the Twice Cooked Pork Belly with Leeks lunch special at Szechuan Gourmet, on 39th St.  The ceremony will take place some time next week, at my desk at work, as I fill my belly once again with its wonderful spicy, fatty, porkiness.  We have registered (appropriately enough) at Szechuan Gourmet and unsurprisingly, we have only registered for more plates of Twice Cooked Pork Belly with Leeks.  Recursvie?  Yes.  But delicious.

Originally published at The Many Hats of Jason Specland. Please leave any comments there.

A few weeks ago, I went to see my good friend Alexandra Finger perform her Level 1 improv class graduation show at Upright Citizens Brigade. As is often the case with a Level 1 show, the performances were… shall we say… uneven. But Alex, as usual, was hysterically funny.

I haven’t performed improv in a very, very long time.  It used to be my life.  I performed with Comics Anonymous and Comedysportz in Florida.  I directed the No Parking Players at Carnegie Mellon University.  Then I came to New York City, and after working my way up through the system, I accomplished the ultimate:  I was on a Harold team at UCB.  We were called “Pole Position.”  We were… not the best team in the house, and after a while, we were broken up.  A few members of the team were reassigned to other teams to continue performing.  I was not.

I took this as the ultimate rejection.  People who I respect and admire essentially told me I just couldn’t hack it.  I haven’t performed improv on a public stage since.  That was… I’m tempted to say five years ago, but it’s more than that because I wasn’t married then.  In fact, I think it was before I’d even met Paula, which would make it at least eight years ago.  (Gah!  I hadn’t done the calculation until I just had to type that!)

Seeing Alex perform woke something up within me.  I knew right then and there that I had to get back on that stage and perform no matter what!  I immediately signed up for a Level 1 class at the PIT.  (Partially because I know more people there from “back in the day,” but mostly because they had a class open and UCB didn’t…)

At first, I stumbled a bit.  In fact, I was kind of shocked and angry with myself at how rusty I’d gotten.  But, like riding a bicycle I got my bearings and now I feel… well, not quite ready for performing at the upper echelon like back in the day but confident that my faculties are still with me.

After class on Wednesday nights, the PIT has something called “Improdome,” which is pretty much a “make your own team on the spot” kind of free-for-all.  It’s an excellent way to shake the dust off in a totally non-judgmental atmosphere.  I’ve performed there the last two Wednesdays, and by golly, I’m going to get on that stage again and again as long as they let me.

I’ve missed it more than I could ever have imagined.  It feels really, really good to have a purpose again.

A few weeks ago, I was delighted to find out that They Might Be Giants was performing a free concert at the Museum of Natural History. For those who are not aware, a few years ago, TMBG, having enjoyed a great deal of success in the indie rock circuit, decided to branch out into children's music. So I have the distinct pleasure of playing music for Benjamin recorded by the band that's been my favorite band since I became conscious of my own taste in music.

We're both particularly enamored with their latest effort, "Here Comes Science." I especially appreciate the fact that this effort actually makes a better effort at education, rather than "Here Come the ABC's" and "Here Come the 123's" which are kind of "Quirky Songs That Have Random Letters and Numbers In Them." Personal faves include the highly danceable "I Am a Paleontologist" and "Why Does the Sun Really Shine" which corrects many of the scientific errata of "Why Does The Sun Shine (The Sun is a Mass of Incandescent Gas)," of which there is yet another version on this album.

So we get to the Museum at 10 AM, and there's already a line around the block. It was all going okay, until some moron security guard upended the entire line by telling us that we had to queue up downstairs, and then telling us that we could only queue up there if we'd already purchased museum tickets, causing a huge two-way mass exodus chaos. (Although he did help Benjamin learn gerunds by shouting, "No running!" which Benjamin then extrapolated into "No jumping!", "No hopping!", and "No skipping!")

We were too late for the 11 AM show, but we got tickets for the 2 PM show. We spent the intervening time eating lunch, and then looking at the dinosaur fossils.

They let us into the show at 1:30, and we got seats in the third row. The concert took place in the Hall of Ocean Life, under the giant whale... I was hoping they'd have put up a giant squid to battle it, but they did not. Benjamin was diggin' the whole atmosphere right away. He wouldn't stay in his seat, 'cause he was boogying down to the pre-show music.

Then TMBG took the stage, and they asked everyone to fill in the empty dance area in front of the stage. Now I certainly wouldn't force Benjamin to go there, but since he was up and boogying anyway, I took him down there.

I've been to many, many, many TMBG concerts in my day, so as excited as I was, this show wasn't about me. I was perfectly prepared for a meltdown, especially since we were pretty close to the front speakers. I was entirely ready to leave on a moment's notice if he suddenly broke out into, "I too scared!" his favorite catch-all exclamation of unhappiness.

I didn't have to worry. He was totally, completely enthralled. He was up there, dancing up a storm. He loved hearing the songs he knew, and he was even getting into the songs he didn't know. (Surprisingly, they did a few non-kid-oriented songs: The Famous Polka, Older, Dr. Worm, Particle Man, and Istanbul (Not Constantinople).)

And when Flans lowered his guitar into the audience for the kids to strum at the beginning of "Older," Benjamin was one of the first kids to reach out and strum it. (I think having a daddy and a grandpa who play guitar helped...)

He crashed almost immediately after the show, but when he woke from his nap, he was still totally psyched. Benjamin started using a balloon animal he'd gotten as a guitar, and was singing songs from the show. I think I've minted a new fan. I couldn't be more proud.

A few months ago, my Cardiologist here at Cornell left to form his own practice. I wish him well, and he was excellent, but it got me thinking about my care.

Effective treatment of congenital heart defects is a relatively recent phenomenon. The first generation of people who received these surgeries as babies are just now getting into adulthood. Unfortunately, there are relatively few places that have specialists in adults with congenital heart issues and Cornell isn't one of them. Fortunately, Columbia is one of them, and since they're affiliated with Cornell, I don't feel too guilty about going there.

In fact, Columbia Presbyterian Babies Hospital is where I had my initial surgeries as a child. My cardiologist back then was Dr. Welton Gersony, a pioneer in the field. Well, I was pleasantly shocked to learn that, although he'd retired, his daughter, Dr. Deborah Gersony, is a cardiologist specializing in adults with congenital heart issues! Yesterday, I had my first appointment with her.

Upon walking into the entrance to the hospital at 161 Ft. Washington Ave., I was completely awash with the feeling of, "I've been here before!" One of my very earliest memories was me being pushed out of the lobby of Columbia Presbyterian in a wheelchair, and this was that very lobby with the grey granite walls. I remember the sun shining in brightly that day, so it looked a little different since yesterday was overcast, but there's no doubt it was the same place. The nostalgia was truly overwhelming.

So I went up to see Dr. Gersony, and we chatted about my history for a good long time. She examined me, and I had an echocardiogram done. Then, Dr. Gersony actually came into the echo room and looked at the results right then and there! I've never seen a doctor read it right in front of you before. Her general impression was that everything's perfectly fine with my heart right now, although I'm doing a few more tests on Monday.

I went back to work for the afternoon, and then played our first (and last) game of our softball league's playoffs. We were soundly defeated.

Still, filled with the nostalgia of the day, I finally got around to scanning some of the old papers my Mom had brought with her when she came to visit. The most fascinating things were old programs from shows I'd done in high school. Also interesting was a "graduation packet" I'd received but never examined. One contained a coupon for a free chicken sandwich at Chick-Fil-A at the Broward Mall. Woo hoo! Who knew that graduating high school could have such benefits! (Unfortunately, it expired 17 years ago.) Another was a small card advertising a service called KIT (Keep In Touch) with an 800 number to call if you moved. Their corporate motto should have been, "Gee, I hope this new Internet thing doesn't take off!"

So I scanned the photos, uploaded them to Facebook, and tagged them with the members of the cast. I was actually surprised how complete the coverage of the cast is in my Facebook friends list.

I can't imagine that anyone who is interested hasn't seen them, but if you're curious, you can find them here:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=141351&id=568534615&l=5065ddf51d

1. Purchase a very large area of farmland.
2. Purchase or design robotic mowers capable of cutting very specific designs.
3. Cut the following into the grass in letters large enough to be visible from space: "We are sorry, but we don't have imagery at this zoom level for this region. Try zooming out for a broader look."
4. ???
5. Profit!

Yesterday afternoon, I did some promotional photographs for "Insecurity," a new musical by Mickey Zetts appearing at the Midtown International Theater Festival. I've known Mickey for a long time now, and he's just an immensely talented perfromer and songwriter. Most importantly, he has the good sense to cast my beautiful and talented wife Paula in his show.

Having a 2 1/2 year-old child, Paula and I tend to "trade off" on creative opportunities. So getting me to shoot shots for a show my wife is in is difficult at best. The "Suckers" shot involved an on-site babysitter (thanks, Tesse!) and so did this one (thanks, Tania!). Thankfully, Benjamin was very, very good this time around, and even napped for a while! Miracle!

Where this shoot differed from the last one, though, is that we had to get a few... provocative... shots. Nothing explicit, of course, but it's kind of hard to say, "Bend over a little more" and "show some more cleavage" when your wife and son are in the room. Thankfully, I have a wonderfully understanding wife, and a child engrossed in watching "Wall-E."



As always, the rest of the Insecurity photo shoot can be found on Flickr.

Last week, I shot some headshots for Fiona Choi. Fiona's an actress, a friend, and the mother of Anton, Benjamin's very bestest best friend in the entire whole-wide world. She brought along her own makeup artist, Segal Yehudai, who did an absolutely spectacular job. Of course, she did so spectacular a job that you can't see her work!



In preparation for this shot and the "Suckers" shots I did just before, I picked up a new 53" octagonal softbox, and I must admit that I'm completely in love with it. It's effect is much more pronounced in the "Suckers" shots, where its soft light just brings up the mysterious foreground ever so slightly, but it's beautiful light is just money for headshots as well. I just threw on a rim/hair/accent light in the back and I was good to go.

In other photography news, a photo of mine of the new Citi Field was used in the Schmap New York Guide. It was a quickie shot I took with my iPhone while I was taking a long walk down Astoria Boulevard in Queens. And judging from the page, about eight million other people's photos were also used, but their terms of use were fair, and ain't nothing wrong with free publicity from a nothing-from-nothing cell phone shot.



Yesterday, insane tech geek that I am, I got a new iPhone 3GS. I must admit, that the better camera is one of the big selling points. The best camera you can get is the one that's always with you.

Originally published at J. Specland Photography. » Click here « to leave any comments.

No, I don't mean that I conned some people into shooting for them. I mean I shot some promotional shots today for "Suckers" the latest play written by my brilliant and prolific playwright friend Duncan Pflaster. Duncan also had the very good sense to cast my wife in a leading role, which only further endears me to him.

"Suckers" is a comedy about vampires, so I wanted to go with kind of a spooky, dark, hard light. The purple curtains in the rehearsal room we shot in were nice, since they made the atmosphere lush and dark but not just plain black. This shot of the whole cast (at least, the members of the cast who could make the photo call) just makes me unbearably giddy.



The rest of the Suckers photos can be found here.

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Alas, there is no photo credit, but I did get paid for the gig, so I ain't complainin'

Backstage Online: The Urge to Merge

The Municipal Art Society of New York asked today if they could use one of my photos on their website. A few Mermaid Parades ago, I braved the crowds and took my camera along and got a pretty neat shot of the crowd on Surf Ave. (The shot's from a pedestrian bridge, and you can see the lines of the fence in the image.)



Well, the Municipal Art Society seems to represent lots of things that I think are totally awesome (urban planning, architectural preservation) so I enthusiastically granted permission for them to use the photo.

Here is the full story at the Municipal Art Society.

(I wish they'd have used my full name, rather than my flickr handle, but them's the breaks.)

Edit: Well, golly! They actually read my tiny little blog, and credited me with my full name. Well, that's the way the cookie spontaneously re-assembles itself. :)

Originally published at J. Specland Photography. » Click here « to leave any comments.

My mother always told me that I was a smart kid, and I was reading when I was two years old. As I came to know your average two-year-old, I realized that this had to be nothing more than my mother optimistically exaggerating my talents again. If I tell my mother I'm in a play, for example, she'll tell her friends that I'm starring on Broadway. Perhaps, though, she was right. My two-year-old son can read.

We were watching a commercial on TV (he generally watches educational shows on PBS, but mommy and daddy need their Jeopardy!) and I saw him say a word that appeared on the screen, but wasn't mentioned by the voice-over. So I quizzed him. I printed a word on my computer screen in very large type. And, gosh darn, he read it! Word after word, I'd bring up. Some of them, he'd read right away, recognizing them from his books. Others, he'd carefully sound out, jumping and squealing in delight when he finally got it. And some he'd get wrong, but he'd get them wrong in ways that show that even now he's applying the cognitive shortcuts we all employ (like getting the first and last letters, and assuming the content between).

So, naturally, as any good Jewish father would, I worry. Will he be bored when he finally goes to school? Will he realize that he can get by on slacking off and putting in half the effort that all the other kids do? Will he be filled with creative ideas, but never completely follow through on them until the next idea grabs his fancy? Will he be crippled by endless self-criticism? In short, will he be too much like his father?

This afternoon, I did a fun photo session with Clara. The intent was to be a pseudo-fashion shoot. As you will plainly be able to see, Clara's modeled before and is a dream to work with.

Clara's more than just a good friend of mine. She's my creative muse, my career coach, and my greatest cheerleader, all rolled up in one. Our creative partnership has lasted many years now. In the theater, I've both directed her and been directed by her. I've performed with her and even won an award or two with her.

And, one more thing: She's also heart-achingly beautiful:







Click here for the rest of the Clara: Red set on Flickr

Please consider Clara for all of your acting, directing, modeling, and awesome-being needs.

Originally published at J. Specland Photography. » Click here « to leave any comments.

This evening, I endeavored to photograph one of my favorite subjects: My two-year-old son, Benjamin. Naturally, everyone has the innate desire to photograph their children, but the ante's actually upped a little in my case. This past Christmas, we purchased a digital photo frame for my in-laws, and we promised them that we'd update their photo collection throughout the year. So I've got to make with the picture takin', or the in-laws gonna' be pissed...

There are several inherent hazards to photographing the toddler in his natural habitat. First and foremost: Toddlers never stand still for more than 0.03 seconds. It makes it somewhat difficult to set up your studio strobes when your subject will happily stand everywhere except the spot you metered on. (Why yes, I do whip out my studio strobes to take a photo of my toddler. Doesn't everyone? :) ) And focusing? Good luck.

Then there's also the issue of trying to photograph him in my decidedly non-photographer-friendly apartment. Since there's a two-year-old living there, it's always cluttered and messy. Since it's in New York City, it's microsocopic in size, so the white walls spill my light everywhere, and I have to use real wide lenses which makes it look all fun-house-mirror-y when he comes close to the camera, which he loves to do.

And still, sometimes, it all works out:

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Once in a while, my wanderlust takes over, and I feel the need to explore this wonderful city. I've been known to take random subway trips to the middle of nowhere from time to time, but this time I just got the urge to walk. I got the urge to walk a lot.

Last weekend, I took Benjamin to the New York Hall of Science in Flushing Meadows-Corona Park. When we left, he'd fallen asleep, so I decided that rather than try to climb the stairs to the subway without rousing him, I could just walk home. Well, I did, and when I came back home I felt invigorated. I wanted to do it again.

So today, the plan was to walk Astoria Blvd. From one absolute extreme, in the Astoria Projects right by the East River, to its terminus near Citi Field.

( A Journey in Crappy Cell-Phone Photos... )

Here's the route I took today, courtesy of Google Earth. About 16 miles, round trip.

My very good friend Duncan Pflaster is engaging in a new independent theatrical venture here in New York City. His theater company, "Cross-Eyed Bear Productions," is joining with Small Pond Entertainment and Theater of the Expendable to put on three plays: "Squiggy and the Goldfish," "Mare Cognitum," and "Ore, or Or." This wild three-way arrnagement has emerged with a wild name: "Theater of the Small-Eyed Bear Presents: Get S.O.M."

It's a mouthful, but Duncan is one of the legitimate masterful raconteurs of our day, and if any production company deserves such a name, it's a production company with him in it.

Naturally, I was delighted when Duncan asked me to shoot some promotional photographs for the group.



I wish them many broken legs in their endeavors. Wait, do producers break legs, or is that just actors?

Originally published at J. Specland Photography. » Click here « to leave any comments.

Here's a shot from a series I'm working on called "Geek Girls." I realized that I know a slew of awesome, fun, devastatingly intelligent, and, yes, geeky women, and I wanted to photograph them doing the things they love.

My first subject is Cheryl, one of the coolest alpha geeks I know. She's currently a user experience engineer at Microsoft, and she's previously worked in the rarefied geek-world of console game design. She's also a supremely talented actress, kicking ass in musical theater and taking names in the Seattle improv scene.



Oh, yeah. She also loves Pikachus. :)

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