Let Me Entertain You

When my friend, Sophie Yaeger, first told me about this exciting new venue, 
The Cafe at Broadway, I was thrilled. I was excited for Sophie and her future. 

The Cafe at Broadway
917 287 2392

I went to see the new space and saw the potential, possibilities and, above all, Sophie's passion for the place. Then she asked me to be the hostess for their new Monday Broadway style open mic. I was flattered, excited and absolutely terrified!

I saw the empty room.  It's a lovely room, as you can see.  I saw the blank canvas.  And, of course (as you can tell from my previous blogs) I immediately starting quoting Sondheim.  White: a blank page or canvas.  His favorite  -  so many possibilities.*

The Cafe at Broadway
917 287 2392

For me it was dark: a blank stage or platform.  Her favourite  -  so many possibilities.  That feeling of adrenalin when we see a space to perform. 

I don't need a lot,
Only what I got,
Plus a tube of greasepaint and a follow-spot!^

But, wait.  I DO need a lot!  A script, a director, homework, a costume, rehearsal. Sophie wanted me to be me. And that's the most terrifying thing of all. No rehearsal. No plan. No idea who would be in the audience. No idea what they would sing. No idea why Sophie asked me. 

People laughed at my insecurity: "But you're so good at stuff like this.". Really? How do you know? I don't. So I realised that I would have to fall back on the lifetime of training I had being part of the McKie family. I come from a family of talkers. Well, my father does not talk much when my mother is around (as you can read here) but he is more than capable (as you can hear here).
Public speaking, debating, after-dinner speaking, reciting poetry, singing parodies, performing at parties were all part of normal life as I was growing up.  Both my parents are teachers and I was (and still am, but not full time) a teacher. It is something in one's soul. My sister is a teacher too. A brilliant one. One brother is a lawyer and the other two are writers. All five of us learned poetry and had to make speeches in public.  It was the norm in our education. My middle brother, Johnnie, is the quietest of us all and the only one out of the five of us who did not debate at University. He was, and is, however, the great deliverer of one-liners and comebacks that will have everyone laughing. That's a gift. And he proved he can make a magnificent speech (as best man at my eldest brother's wedding and as groom, obviously, at his own). My natural instinct and familial and cultural training is to insult the crowd. In Scotland, that's a compliment.  But I feared this was not going to be my friend.  I also feared that nature would kick in and that is what I would do.  I did, of course. Sorry, Vanessa Spica!

Photo by Daniel Yaeger

Hello, everybody! My name is Polly.
What's yours?

Let me entertain you,
Let me make you smile.
Let me do a few tricks,
Some old and then some new tricks,
I'm very versatile!+

Singing a little Gilbert and Sullivan parody
for our parents' Ruby Anniversary

I started to realise that I did have the experience and years of training. I had done the homework. What is hosting? I have been thinking and realise it is not really very different from all the other things that are second nature to me.

Banter (the McKie family), being able to hurl insults and take the heckling in return (again, the McKie family), 

Singing for our father's 70th birthday party
(and encouraging the next generation along the way).

getting up to sing and entertain, even if the crowd is small and you don't want to 
(yet again, the McKie family) making the audience feel loved, wanted, amused and itching to get up and show their stuff (just what I want to do for my classes when I teach) and winging it (well, that's the story of my life).




But let me make it clear, that is not enough. This is the venue that helped me to be myself and relax enough to do my job. Well, to be honest, I was never relaxed and was a nervous wreck throughout, but the crowd (small though it was) did not see that. The Cafe at Broadway has devised the most welcoming open mic in the city. There is NO COVER charge and not only is there no minimum, they even have half price drinks all night for the open mic on Mondays!  They have lighting, sound, a glorious grand piano and cheap booze! What's not to love. The people who were there were wonderful.  I am grateful to all of them. It is a warm, friendly, supportive place. Come and sing or listen or drink or laugh or clap or meet new people or, do what I plan to do: all of it! See you on Monday.

And if you're real good,

I'll make you feel good  ---

I want your spirits to climb.

So let me entertain you,

And we'll have a real good time,

Yes, sir!

We'll have a real good time!+

               

 * "Sunday in the Park with George" by Stephen Sondheim
 ^ "Broadway Baby" from Follies by Stephen Sondheim
 + "Baby June and Her Newsboys" from Gypsy: Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

www.pollymckie.com

And Another Hundred People Just Got Off of the Train

First posted by Polly McKie on Monday, May 6, 2013

And came up through the ground,

While another hundred people

just got off of the bus

And are looking around *

I was one of the ones getting off a bus today at 42nd and 9th to head to Westway Diner (a favourite for so many show people) to meet my friend, Vanessa Spica. We had planned to grab a late lunch, gossip a little, read through a scene we were working on for class and I planned to moan to her because I’d had a crappy day (but that’s another story)And in this city of strangers, I bumped into four friends.  First, lovely Liz Reddick (stage manager I met while working at New Harmony Theatre), then in walked Claire Warden and Whitney Egbert: two wonderful actresses, often mistaken for sisters!  Hugs aplenty.  Already my crappy mood was lifting. Then I spotted David Holmes (hot from his appearance last week on Law and Order SVU) and was thrilled to chat to him about that and, of course, about our beloved Austin Pendleton and David’s exciting film “The Austin Pendleton Project”.

And every day,
the ones who stay
Can find each other in the crowded streets 
and the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees 
with the battered barks,
And they walk together past the postered walls 
with the crude remarks. *

I seem to meet people everywhere I go. Manhattan is a small island, after all. And the actor types congregate in the same places over and over again. Sometimes the people I meet are good friends, sometimes friends of friends, acquaintances, and then, the embarrassing cases where you know you’ve met the person before, but who knows where or when (I think digressing from Sondheim lyrics is acceptable when it’s Rodgers and Hart). Two such stories spring to mind:

First happened at Actors’ Equity. I had been waiting all day on the non-union wooden benches (this story is pre the swanky new 16th floor and pre my E.M.C card). I was taken through to the other side (the glorious haven where one can use the Equity bathroom and, even better, be seen at an audition) and I sat waiting and saw a face I recognised. We looked at each other awkwardly and eventually I said “I know you but I can’t think where from.” He (let’s call him Actor 1) had the same issue.  So we went through various options: opening night at The Pearl, a reading at Abingdon Theatre Company and various other actor-type scenarios. Neither of us could figure it out and went in to our separate auditions still none the wiser.

I left that audition and rushed to Pearl Studios to be seen at another call before it closed at 5.30p.m. I made it and booked that job (but that’s another story) and then headed home, weary and in need of a glass of wine. So I stopped by my favourite wine shop, Sussex Wines (they deliver if anyone wants to send me a gift) to pick up a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. I headed to the counter and there, waiting to serve me was Actor 1!

And another hundred people just got off of the train. *

Now, Actor 2.  I was booked to play a role in a reading of a new screenplay. I had convinced the Casting Director I could be all American (but that’s another story) and went in the room meeting new people and pretending to be American. Enter Actor 2. As with Actor 1, I knew I knew him but could not place him. I said “Oh, I think we met at The Network!” Unlike Actor 1, he was clear: “No, I work at Bar Thalia! I met you when you came to sing at Singers’Space.“

Let’s ignore the running theme of alcohol and focus on the joy of meeting people. Some, of course, we wish we’d never met (Actress 1 who recognised me from a callback and thought that gave her the right to sit next to me at another audition and talk at me, without pausing for breath – but that’s another story), but so many are a joy, a connection, a story, a smile, a lift in one’s spirit on a difficult day.

And another hundred people just got off of the train. *

"Another hundred People Just Got Off of the Train" from "Company". Stephen Sondheim.