Thou'rt invited, worthy friend, to a performance of theatre most subtle and rare. The great poets of old would hardly dare to — but hark, dost thou hear't? 'Tis the stately tolling of yonder bell, announcing the arrival of our URL!
Leo's Requiem: Tickets
Details: May 3rd and 4th, Lenfest Centre for the Arts. Free tickets. Uptown. Part of a festival of new works. Written by Darius M. Buckley, directed by Brennan M. Urbi, and I think a pretty M. good show.
Brief synopsis: Set during the present and during the halcyon days of Detroit's municipal bankruptcy, Leo's Requiem tells the story of Josiah Drake, a young conductor with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. Haunted by a musical partnership from his youth, Josiah must confront the past and reconnect with his art, or be lost forever in a fog of memory and pain! My character, Conor, helps. It's touching and real and one from the heart.
A brief discursion prompted by a common response to the subject of my return to social media
When I hear from my cherished newsletter readers, I tend to get a pretty positive response. It's nice! I bring this up not to brag (okay, maybe a little), but by way of comparison. See, when I hear from the Instagram users among that uniformly beautiful, intelligent, and talented group, my return to the platform prompts something like the following: "Welcome [back] to the cult!"
This is obviously a joke. Still, my feeling is there's something true here. It acknowledges a now-shared experience of doing a thing long after the promise has faded from whatever joy or curiosity or community made it desirable in the first place; because what're you gonna do, leave? All your friends are here and they're not leaving! Now buy a camera strap made from climbing rope and date some Christian singles.
Let me tell you, coming onto a platform where that's the mood is very different from joining during the good times. I would know. I was there.
What's so interesting to me about the use of the word "cult" here is that cultists don't say cult, right. It seems a very knowing and very modern kind of irony to actually deploy the word within the welcome: signalling an awareness of the trap as a precondition to participating in it. I think there's a subtle hope hiding in this irony, that it could serve as a kind of defence — certainly not against being trapped, since here we all are, but maybe against despairing of entrapment. Like, if we can identify a bad situation so clearly, and have a little laugh about it, doesn't that remove some of its power over us?
No.
Anyway...
My moustache has finally landed me a role as a cop. It's for a short film. I'm going to try and have the guy be on his phone the whole time; that feels like a well-observed acting choice if there ever was one.
Also, btw, hire me to take some pictures! If you want. I shoot shows, I shoot portraits, I take nice images and have quick turnaround on edits. Portfolio on my site, as always.
With love,
Carl
This is the Carl Bindman Newsletter, for members of my professional or personal networks whom I think should get the scoop and be kept in the loop.
This newsletter was written on Lenapehoking, the occupied land of the Lenni Lenape.