Friday, November 23, 2012


Oh, how I long to have been around during the days of the Harlem Renaissance, or old enough during the days of beatniks, and Bohemia in Nueva York!  For those were the days of the Artistes.  Folks from various artistic genres doing their art for LOVE!  No pressures of waiting for the "big break" or of being "discovered".  Just the sheer joy of creating.  The words "starving artist" sounds cliche but it is all so true.   There are still folks who do go homeless for their "art", sleep in crowded apartments for their "art", rehearse in cold kitchens or basements for their "art", and pan handle for their "art".  These dedicated souls are not as numerous as years ago.  Unfortunately, it is the Artiste who knows it is all about the "work" and not their selfish wants.  It is the Artiste who suffers without complaint and cares little, if not less, about notoriety for their creation.  For that is not their motivation.  The romanticist in me, yearns for the glory days that I've heard and read so much about. That I have even witnessed, albeit for a short time.  What I have witnessed in my return to the theatre as actor, playwright, producer, and director, sadly, is the Artiste as something rare.