Video: Down the Rabbit Hole

You may or may not realize but there was a time when performances in loft spaces in and about Boston were a regular thing that drew a good-sized crowd. They were held in spaces that had been carved out by their inhabitants into a maze of drywall decorated in garish murals and filled with junk and treasures and junky treasures and treasure chests of junk.

There are still lofts like this in Boston. You just need to know where to dig. And several weeks ago, we here at Mutable, found ourselves off down the rabbit hole and into onesuch place as this. The techno was ever-present and the manikins had been accessorized.

Stephen Curo was the MC for the evening, and after the loading bay had been thoroughly cleansed of cigarette butts and the proper drapery put in place and lighting magic made from an upside-down lamp of some retro elegance, the crowd dribbled in. It was opening night at the Rabbit Hole.

As you can see above, the evening began with a few short plays read by select members of the audience, and was followed by a remarkable tale of supernatural terror, metalheads, and their Christian parents, written and performed by C. Atari-Bartok. This was followed by an equally unnerving little fable of what happens in the closets of children between cartoons, a story from the mind of Katherine Bergeron. The anecdotes of biting in adolescence by Stephen Curo, sadly were not recorded, but you can read all about them in his on-going memoirs, Reflects Poorly.

Then it was time for a break and off to sample some wine and crackers. The vibe was all ascots, waxed moustaches, and accompanying glitter nail varnish. Smokes were had out by the loading bay as the orange line rolled by, and then, with a snap Stephen Curo was calling our attention back to the stage for another chilling tale by Katherine Bergeron involving children. (Unfortunately, this second gem was also not filmed, but is available at Metastellar.)

And finally, Gabriel Boyer read an excerpt from his post-apocalyptic noir, Devil, EVerywhere I Look. You can watch his performance in its entirety below. Enjoy!

Down the Rabbit Hole is a storytelling hour in the depths of post-industrial Charlestown. It’s a night of the weird, wondrous, and occasionally hilarious, but, from blackholes hovered above the silver fields of the Midwest to yachts stuck in the muck of the wetlands and a broke-backed scream, wherever they take us, it’s always Down the Rabbit Hole.

Audiobook: Welcome to Weltschmerz, USA

The Bedroom Theater Dispatch

Bedroom Theater began with a changed lightbulb and ended in a desert in Nevada. The audio book presented here presents the journey it took to bedrooms across America in the 1970 VW minibus pictured above, a journey of two young people, and a journey through the summer of 2003, and its many back alleys and exotic half-stories. This is the abridged audio book version of Welcome to Weltschmerz, unfolding biweekly on the Mutable site. Start at the bottom and work your way up to follow Jill and Gabe through the bedrooms of the past. Enjoy!

Scripted Cocktail Party

Bedroom Theater Dispatch

During these strange covid times, perhaps we all need to calm down, down a few drinks, and read aloud the words of others rather than venturing into the dangerous theatrics of our normal everyday improvised speech.

Forced to have a cocktail party for two because you’re under quarantine? Or a cocktail party of one? Worry not! These dialogues are engineered to entertain! Often surreal, occasionally audacious, silly, unrepentant, and embarrassing/humiliating, you are guaranteed a good time if you and one or two friends sit yourselves down on the couch and read and act out the attached plays for your amusement.

With such memorable one-liners as: “Are you the object of my affection? I forget,” and, “Who put the rotten tentacles in my bed,” this Collection of Conversations for Everyday Use is best done over Moscow Mules. These plays have been performed in Chicago, Boston, New York, and throughout America, in living rooms, art spaces, lofts, and of course bedrooms, as many of the attached short plays came out of the two years I spent performing plays in my bedroom, which culminated in a summer spent traveling from Boston to New Orleans to LA to Seattle in a 1971 minibus performing plays in bedrooms and courtyards and all with a girl who broke up with me after the first, a tragicomic experience to be sure.

These short plays are written in the hopes to alleviate the boredom and strain upon my fellow Americans during these trying times. Please feel free to pass them on to your friends. You can view or download the scripts here to throw your own scripted cocktail party or click on the link below!

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.

The Bedroom Theater Variety Show

The Bedroom Theater Dispatch

The show below, pasted between two nights of Bedroom Theater, features avant punk musical stylings, a monologue of a teenage girl flowering as a multi-dimensional lifeform in the abyss, candid unplugged versions of classic songs from Mutable’s Glitter Tracks [by the Box Kites] and No Place to Die [by Normal Feelings], as well as a few brand-new numbers, a four-person retelling of The Nightingale by Hans Christian Anderson, and a recorded round table discussion of contemporary politics. Enjoy!

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.

Sarah Ruhls Rules!

The Bedroom Theater Dispatch

“The dust always makes progress!” What a brilliant amateur rendition of the first three pages of a brilliant play. If you have no idea who Sarah Ruhl is, I encourage you to explore her surrealist dramas. If you have never thought of performing plays in your bedroom, I beg you to consider transforming your home in this manner. If you have never thought anything, I pity you. Enjoy!

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.

White Stockings

The Bedroom Theater Dispatch

During the Chechen Wars, stories began to circulate about certain snipers—blonde-haired, blue-eyed, cold-blooded female snipers called beliye kolgotki by the Russians. The White Tights (or White Stockings) so named because they were said to only wear white, were rumored to be contract killers paid by the Chechens on a kill-by-kill basis. These assassins are/were said to be from small Baltic States with a grudge against Russia and are/were said to be members of a bi-athlon team, trained to cross miles and miles of rugged terrain then successfully fire a weapon and hit a target. The story got a boost when newspapers reported the capture of several female assassins—from the Baltics and from the Ukraine. However, other papers reported that the stories were absolute myth, attributing the creation of these mysterious female assassins to paranoia and convoluted historical facts.

At our most recent Bedroom Theater, audience members read poems written by Lina Vitkauskas inspired and penned to this mythical team of sharpshooters. The recording of these readings can be found below, and her book can be found here.

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.

Video: Body Positions I

The Bedroom Theater Dispatch

The performance showcased below was part of a larger evening called Women’s Inaugural Ball, an event dedicated to women artists and their work on the day of the Women’s March, and after the inauguration, January 20th, at Brickbottom Studios in Somerville. The performance artist, Jessica Lu, lives and works in Brighton, MA. Keep posted for more dispatches from the on-going Bedroom Theater happenings!

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.

Ground Mouth

Bedroom Theater Dispatch

In this original play by Ben Segal, two men have a short conversation. Written specifically for Bedroom Theater, it is our pleasure here at Mutable to share this delightful drama with you.

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.

The Crucible as a Oneman Show (Pt 2)

The Bedroom Theater Dispatch

What were those girls brewing in the woods? What secret longings burn in Abby’s heart? Find out in this second installment of the Crucible as a Oneman Show, our Bedroom Theater production. The girls are up to something, but what will come of it? And what of John Proctor and his wandering stare? As read by Mutable’s own Gabriel Boyer

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.

The Crucible as a Oneman Show (Pt 1)

The Bedroom Theater Dispatch

Arthur Miller, wherefore art thou? Very probably turning over in your grave at this minimalist interpretation of your classic play by Mutable’s own Gabriel Boyer, done in the same manner as it was done for Bedroom Theater some six years ago to an audience of two. This is the first of two installments of the Crucible. Enjoy the antiquated language, the muppet-like voices, the Morton Feldman score, and general witchery with the knowledge that you are safe several centuries in the future of these dramatically reproduced historical events, a time when you can laugh, cry, and reproduce at your leisure. To hear the second installment go here.

As read by Mutable’s own Gabriel Boyer.

Bedroom Theater began when my roommate changed the light bulb in my bedroom and ended in a five-hour crying spree in the Nevada desert. There is no audience, only people performing for each other. For more on this, please see Welcome to Weltschmerz.