Kaleidoscope VR Film Festival

I continue to be actively engaged in VR, and am excited about 2016, which will be VR’s biggest year ever. But most of my focus has been on games. Facebook has made clear they believe that VR movies will be the facet of VR that will be truly mass market, since the market for immersive games is limited. I had been somewhat skeptical about VR as a film medium, until I watched a short VR film my students created, which really used the medium well, and was very moving, though it had its rough spots. I happened to be in Portland for the premiere presentation of the Kaleidoscope VR Film Festival (if you want to see if it is coming to your town, check here), so I thought I’d check it out. They had about twenty VR “films” to show, about half of which were video, half were animation. Most of which were linear experiences, though a few had minor interactive elements. Portland is the first stop for the festival, but the plan is to visit ten cities. Regular tickets were about $25, but VIP tickets that let you skip the lines (and there were lines) were a bit north of $100. As a busy VR professional, who really wanted to see as much as possible, I decided to spring for the VIP pass.

My hope was that I would see a new medium springing forth, that would be as interesting and powerful as the VR gaming world is starting to be. Unfortunately, I didn’t really see that. Instead, most of what I saw were early, often bungling experiments with trying to make VR films. Few VR filmmakers seem to comprehend the power of presence, and fewer understand how not to break it. Annoyingly, even the organizers of the festival don’t get it! They pumped techno music into the festival space the entire time, which bled through the headphones into every experience, completely trashing any sense of place that a filmmaker might be trying to create. Hopefully enough people will complain about this that on the rest of the tour the festival organizers will take the hint that audio landscape is how the mind establishes where it is.

Most filmmakers are so used to creating content for a rectangular screen that dealing with an explorable immersive medium is alien to them. Nepal Quake, despite its noble mission, was full of jarring jump cuts and weird seams. The Archer tried to create a “silent movie” feel, but then absolutely failed to guide the eye of the viewer to the subtitles in any useful way. Red Balloon Movie was a watery take on Uplift, making a weak excuse to show some VR drone footage that felt fairly meaningless, and also had a lot of cuts. Some other films were really just immersion pieces, letting you sit quietly and look at something not particularly interesting. Some pieces such as Tana Pura, LoVR, and Bright Shadows were abstract music videos, which were relatively engaging by being pretty, but weak on storytelling. Colosse did a good job at being pretty, and at leading the eye, but the pacing was often a bit slow. Butts was amusing, and used an interesting 3D iris effect to guide the viewer’s eye at the end. The Night Café was an attempt to make an explorable Van Gogh painting, which aesthetically was very successful, though the navigation was slightly awkward, and it had no story or interest curve. There was definitely a problem with indirect control, as the usher had to tell everyone “There’s nothing in the basement. Everyone wants to go down there, but there’s nothing.” It was a wonderful beginning to what could be a very meaningful experience, but though the models are artfully constructed, there’s no meaning there yet. The standout of the show for me was DMZ: Memories of a No Man's Land, which takes about ten minutes and is an interactive exploration of the complexities of the Korean border. It was not only elegant and beautiful, but had a surprisingly thought provoking message, and a very clever method of allowing the guest to explore and gradually unlock content in a way that allows free exploration, but also lets a structured story be told. I definitely learned things from DMZ that I can use.

Sorry to be down on this stuff, but the medium is really important to me. I came to the festival hoping to get an update about the wonderful progress that VR filmmakers are surely making. Mostly, I’m not seeing that. This experience has strengthened my belief that gaming will be the killer app for virtual reality. While I’m sure there will be a few excellent VR films created, they will be exceptions, not the rule, and I believe there will be far more passion for game-like experiences in VR than there will be for film-like experiences. 

The Amazing World of M.C. Escher

When we got to Edinburgh for the Fringe Festival, and started walking around, we were excited to see the Modern Art Museum featuring an M.C. Escher exhibition. I was weaned on Escher at a young age, sitting in my grandfather Emil’s armchair by the fireplace and carefully paging through his big coffee table books of Escher’s works. It was exciting to visit this exhibit and see the prints up close – they look so much more detailed than the reproductions I have seen. Being able to see Drawing Hands, Snakes, and my personal favorite, Castrovalva, up close was very special. Even more special was being able to see the letters he exchanged with Coxeter and Penrose about mathematics and technique. Also, I never really understood his business model before, never understood how much he was very much trying to make prints that people would buy, and trying to maximize their value. His work always had an incomplete quality, to me. He wasn’t really building a world, just giving glimpses into something. When I was young, I always assumed the rest of the world was out there somewhere – that the books just only showed small fragments of it, for some reason. To be an adult now, and to realize that no, these few fragments are all that exist is very sad. To think that a relatively small number of these beautifully rendered, but somewhat sterile fragments are all that exists to represent a human life, and that there never was any more to that world, and there never will be, just an eccentric artist trying to make what people would buy is somewhat disheartening. I guess the other side of the coin is the insane perfection in his work. Doing that kind of work as ink, and as lithographs, and some even more esoteric methods, sometimes spending months on a single print, requires a level of perfection that is hard to even think about, And while his small collection of pictures might seem a little sad, how much sadder are the thousands of artists who slave their whole lives and are not remembered at all? His combination of unique perspective and intense perfection has ensured that his work will live on. I think that Escher is best remembered for his limited collaborations with mathematicians. The lesson I take away most of all is this – if you work alone, your work will be limited. If you would build something large, if you would build a whole world, you must work with a team, and accept and embrace everything that entails.

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

I had heard of this show, and have always been fond of spelling, and this high school production seemed family friendly, so we thought we’d check it out. After all, a spelling bee is a good idea for a stage show – it’s already on a stage, already has tension and eccentricity, and everyone understands what it is. And the show was decent. I can’t say it was great, but it was pretty good. The kids did a nice job with their songs and bits, and I think most of my concerns were with the script. It was enough to make me wonder if we were seeing some strange abridged version of the show, since the main weakness was that character relationships did not feel fully developed, and as a result, the characters sometimes did things that didn’t make sense. But the show has a LOT of characters, so maybe that’s just how it is? The show was 90 minutes, which was plenty for a musical – I don’t know how they would have fit in more without cutting something. I found myself wishing for a 35% reduction in characters with a corresponding increase in depth. The school group was from the US (Alexandria, Virginia) and it must have been so exciting for them to come all the way to Edinburgh to perform. Overall, it was about as good as one could hope for a high school production to be, and I’m glad I got to see it. Still, for a musical about spelling bees, I'll take "A Boy Named Charlie Brown" every time.

4x4 Ephemeral Architectures

I’ve watched a lot of juggling shows. Dozens, probably hundreds. And I’ve put on quite a few. The easiest kinds are the ones where you build anticipation for a difficult or dangerous trick, then do that trick and collect the applause. More difficult are the ones where you weave comedy into your tricks, using the tricks to frame jokes, and using the jokes to set up tricks. Most difficult are the shows where what is happening is simply beautiful. These are so hard because for juggling to be truly beautiful, it must be perfect in a way that evokes an emotional response. You see this most often when a single performer does a very challenging routine against music. But often these routines while technically beautiful, feel emotionally dead. The performer is performing them for you, to impress you, so you come away thinking, wow, that guys is really good. Seldom is the solo performer trying to get you to experience beauty, or an emotional experience. 4x4 Ephemeral Architectures (video trailer here) is like a show I’ve dreamed of, but never thought could really happen. In it, four expert jugglers and four expert ballet dancers perform elegantly choreographed routines by a master choreographer. The entire focus is on creating a beautiful, artful performance, and because there are multiple performers, emotional exchange is natural and inevitable. I have always wondered what it would be like for a really skilled choreographer to work with jugglers to create beauty – the addition of trained dancers makes it even better. The show itself explores the clash of these two cultures, as to fulfill the vision, it was necessary for the jugglers to perform some basic ballet, and for the dancers to perform some basic juggling. Clearly great pains were taken to build routines around what each performer was best at. I can’t imagine how long it must have taken to develop this show, four to six months at minimum. I never cried during a juggling performance before. When I put on headphones and practice in my front yard, trying to create beautiful swooping patterns that match the music, this is the kind of juggling I fantasize about being able to do, and this show has given me hope that one day I may do it. 

The Biggest Marionette Circus in the World

We went into this show expecting little. Hopefully some big marionettes that would be interesting and amusing. Well, we got that. The marionette work was not world-class, more at the novice level, really, but the giant size of some of the animals made up for that a bit, and added some novelty. There was a little clowning, which honestly was somewhat tiresome because of a lack of listening between the clowns. They barely seemed to know each other were there, much less to meaningfully interact. An exception to this was a fun interaction between a Strong Man and a butterfly, which was fun, amusing, and had great interplay between actors. The glue that held the show together was the ringmaster. He had a weird, dreamlike quality that made him immediately interesting, and both friendly and alien at the same time. The show starts with two clowns (wearing hats that hide their face – immediately putting them at a performance disadvantage) messing about with a mechanical key, trying to start the show. They wind up the various marionettes, but still no show. The ringmaster, feigning unconsciousness, but winking to the audience, finally manipulates them into winding him up so the show can begin. He then “wakes up”, not at all clear about his identity, or where he is… then finally, in a strange but clear European accent, “Ah! I see! Ringmaster!” and looking out at the audience, “Ah… oh! Yes! I remember! Children! Yes, and parents! Yes, I remember!” This strange introduction immediately takes us to an Our Town kind of place – where could he have been that he forgotten about the existence of parents and children? He then assumes the role of ringmaster, introducing the various marionette animal acts. He is always right there with the audience, wanting to help, but often going into strange asides, where he acts like a trustworthy figure, but simultaneously is the kind of person you wouldn’t want your kids left alone with, as his advice and ideas are strange, and he does not have very good control over his strange show. This weirdness creates multiple levels that help keep adults interested – but I felt like where the show falls down a bit is connecting with the kids. At multiple times in the show, the ringmaster tries to involve the audience in call and response to encourage the performers, but he makes the rookie mistake of vagary, saying things like “Help the strong man out, make some noise!” instead of saying “Clap for the strong man!” or “On the count of three, shout, ‘You can do it!’” this vagary left the feedback loop between audience and actors in a watery state, and denied the audience the rush of power that comes from being part of a mass chant that has a real effect. The show is clever, and has its charms, but it also has its sloppy and amateur side. With some tightening, polish, and a little more meaning (Why are we here? What is the message for the audience, exactly?) this okay show could become very great indeed. 

Puddles Pity Party

I already had pre-purchased tickets for three shows at the Edinburgh Fringe, which felt like plenty to me, but when we arrived, to our surprise we saw posters that Puddles would be performing! I first became aware of him like many people did, through his youtube video of Royals. I’ve always been interested in clowns and clowning, and Puddles seemed to have a special magic about him, and the idea of seeing him live at the Fringe was too good to pass up. And the show did not disappoint! As much as I was moved by 4x4 Ephemeral Architectures, the most memorable experience of our trip was attending Puddles Pity Party. I’ve had to think a lot about what it is that makes his show so powerful. Let me try to break it down.

1. I hear many people say, “I don’t like clowns, but I like Puddles,” or “Puddles is a singer who wears a clown costume,” or “Puddles is not a traditional clown.” All of these are wrong. Puddles is not just a clown, he is an excellent clown. People who don’t like clowns have never seen a good one, and this is understandable because good clowning is really hard. It isn’t about being silly or trying to get laughs, it is about being a character that is a genuine side of yourself that has all the unnecessary trappings of reality stripped away so that the audience is confronted with nothing but the raw experience of a primal part of the human psyche. Clowns are complex because they are both genuine, because without tapping into something genuine within themselves, their performance is meaningless, but also unreal, because obviously no one could exist like that. They are a pure facet of humanity, with all the aspects that might dilute that purity, their skin, their hair, their voice, boiled away. Doing this properly and well is incredibly difficult. It requires bravery, cleverness, commitment, and ultimately, purpose. Clowns exist to show us something, something about humanity, something about ourselves. All comedy is like this, clowning is just purer, requiring more bravery, more cleverness, more commitment, and more purpose if it is to succeed. It is no wonder that most clowns fail, to the point that clowning has a bad name.
2. Some people say Puddles is not a real clown, because he talks. But he doesn’t talk – he only sings. Further, he only sings songs you already know. He never uses his voice to tell you anything you don't already know. This is certainly a twist on traditional clowning, but all successful clowns do something unique. In many ways, there is an obvious parallel between Puddles and Harpo Marx. They are both clearly clowns, but both breaking away from the workaday clown mold. They both confront people pointedly, aggressively, and directly, and they both have musical performance at the heart of their identity.
3. Puddles as a character is surprisingly deep. He isn’t just a “sad clown.” He is clearly wounded, not just emotionally, but physically. He seems to be in physical discomfort for much of the show, constantly adjusting his costume as if it hurts him, as if it is binding him in some way. Even simple things, like removing a piece of gum from his mouth, seem to be a painful ordeal. When he moves his little stool around the stage, he does it in a way that obviously is the most effort. His character doesn’t seems to be doing this to amuse us, or because he is too foolish to do it an easier way, but almost as if to intentionally show us that this is what we all do. He knows he could do it differently, but he knows that he must show us, and he knows that this is the only way to show us.
4. His singing is incredible. Allan Sherman used to describe his own act as “a fancy window display at Tiffany’s, with a spotlight, and a velvet pillow, and there on the pillow, is an onion.” Puddles is the opposite of this. His voice is an angel in a junkyard. It simply doesn’t make sense that so much powerful emotion could come from a big, grotesque, sloppy clown. But there it is. If he were an ordinary singer, he’d hold our attention, but as Puddles, both in appearance and in affect, we are powerless to look away.
5. Like Mister Rogers, we aren’t there for him, he is there for us. He isn’t there to show off. He is there because we need help. Helping us isn’t easy – we don’t even believe we need help, and we certainly didn’t come here seeking it. But Puddles helps us, showing us that not only is it possible to love through pain, but as the New Testament points out, there is no other kind of love. Puddles stalks the stage like a wounded animal, practically limping, but never taking his eyes off of us, and occasionally entering the audience to select someone to bring to the stage. I was one of those he selected, and while I was slightly nervous at first, I’ve done enough audience participation work to feel somewhat comfortable in a situation like this. And, after all, I’d seen what happened to the last “volunteer” – puddles sang happy birthday to him, embarrassed him a little, gave him a balloon and a party hat, and sent him off the stage. I figured I could handle that. But I was not counting on what happened next – Puddles set up a microphone in front of me, and sat down on his stool on the other side of the stage. The opening bars of a Beatles song started up, and Puddles pointed at me, with that “go” look. I am not a comfortable singer. Sure, I do lots of stage stuff, I’m a very comfortable talker – but I’ve never felt good about my singing voice. I do lots of singing privately, I like music and songs. But to suddenly be on stage in front of 200 people and be expected to carry a whole song solo was paralyzing. I cannot remember having been that scared in a long time. But a show is a show, and I respect a show, so I jumped in, heart pounding, and gave it my best, thanking God it was a song in my key. I was really afraid that Puddles and the audience would make faces at my singing – but that didn’t happen! Instead, they both seemed quite impressed by my bravery! It was going so well that Puddles started reading a magazine, which made me break out laughing and miss a line. At Puddles’ prompting, the audience sang the choruses with me, and in the end, I finished it, he presented me with a crown, and we took a bow together. I know it sounds silly, but this was a really meaningful moment for me. I’ve always wanted to sing, but I can’t remember anyone ever complimenting my singing. Instead I remember what it felt like to be the only boy to try out for chorus in the 7th grade, as all the girls snickered, and the music teacher suggesting that “maybe it would be better if I did something else,” or being rejected as a candidate to do singing telegrams in high school drama club, or people making faces at my singing at a party, or in church. I never even tried karaoke, I was too self-conscious. But here was a situation where I sang, and it was okay. It wasn’t great, or anything, but it was okay. And Puddles knew what he was doing, the whole time. He knows what it is to sing in front of people, how vulnerable it makes you. And so he created this trust fall exercise. And it worked – something broke through in me, and I see a path forward now – I think I am actually going to take some singing lessons, and do more to build my confidence as a singer. I doubt everyone who has sung on Puddles’ stage has had the same experience, but I’m sure it must be a powerful experience for almost everyone. I would have been terrified just to watch it!

So, anyway, there is my oversharing about Puddles Pity Party. The show affected me another way. I’ve done some minor clowning over the years, recently developing a character I call Bottlecap, who primarily perform as when working my harmonium. I’ve done some stage work as Bottlecap as a silent character, and I really enjoyed that (here’s a video much hampered by lack of a stage microphone to capture the music). But when I work the street, I’ve never been brave enough to stay silent. People come up and ask me questions about the harmonium, and it feels rude not to answer. But after seeing Puddles’ show, I see the opposite is true – it is irresponsible of me to speak. A clown can’t do his good work if he speaks, any more than a mirror could. When people ask about the harmonium, I should do what I do on stage – show them how to play it, which gives me a chance to become their co-performer where I juggle and dance to the music they make. I’m looking forward to trying this.

So, anyway – perhaps I’m making too much of this, but I don’t think so. I think there must be many people for whom Puddles’ message of pain and love has come at just the right time. Thanks for doing this, Puddles – your good work is helping us all.

Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris

As a boy, I was fascinated with this show. We had the cast recording, and the movie was frequently on HBO. But I had never seen it live. When Pittsburgh's PICT group announced they would be mounting a performance of it, I made sure to get tickets right away - and I wasn't disappointed! The performers were wonderful, and the staging was fun and clever. Even the venue was arranged like a cabaret, with cocktail tables ringing the seating area. There is something magical about the songs of Jacques Brel. I think it is that they are so deeply unafraid to speak directly, and emotionally, to the most powerful and important aspects of life. To my surprise, some of my Brel favorites were missing here -- Marathon (the director admitted that he hates it... it was always a favorite of mine, because it is so catchy... but I can see his point), and Last Supper, which apparently was not originally part of the play, but was a Brel song added to the movie. The lyrics that always stayed with me as a boy were these:

This is my last supper
Please come and dine with me
I want all of my old friends
To eat here by the sea

And then I'll climb a mountain
and throw rocks at the sky
and shout "God is Dead!"
one last time before I die.

To me, this is the essence of Jacques Brel. He worked alone, and each of his songs is a rock thrown at the sky. Each one an admission of our failings, of how truly pitiable it is to be mortal... but at the same time how wonderful, how powerful it is to be human. I remember, even very young, these songs making me want to live life fully, every day. Now that I am older, I feel it even more dearly. It is too easy, as we grow older, to forget what it means to be alive.

All The Names

I got to see this remarkable production by Pittsburgh's Quantum Theater. Based on the book by Nobel Prize winner Jose Saramago (it is one of my goals to read a book by every Nobel literature winner -- I guess this counts for half credit), this play takes place in several rooms of the "Original Carnegie Free Library of Allegheny", also known as the abandoned, decrepit half of the Hazlett Theater that was a police station for a little while. However, an ancient library that still has scars of being hastily converted into a police station which was then abandoned makes a perfect setting for this fascinating, Kafkaesque story. (spoilers ahead.) It is a story about a clerk in a dehumanizing institution who becomes obsessed with the identity of a person whose file card he pulls from a file by mistake. We follow him about his covert investigations, while we literally follow him through this weird old building. The performances were excellent, and fascinating -- there are a number of scenes where one character is played by two actors simultaneously, to captivating effect. There is some good use of projection to enhance performance, though honestly, I would have liked to see either more, or less of that. Every single one of the actors was fascinating in their own way, and that, plus an unusual and surreal Borges/Kafka story, plus a lot of interesting theatrical gimmicks was more than enough to keep me interested. I'd quite like to see it again, if I can. My favorite part about these performances designed around a space is their ephemeral nature -- so, if you are interested, see it while you can. I know I'm interested enough to read the book. Also -- it has Mark Conway Thompson, who used to be in Mummenschanz. Also also, live sheep. What more do you need? Stefon would love it.

The Mikado

When I was young, I became quite obsessed with Gilbert and Sullivan. It came via my father, I think, who took us to see the (surprisingly excellent) performances at the local college. He also had recordings of the big three, Pinafore, Mikado, and Pirates, with lyric sheets, and an interesting annotated book that contained text from all the plays. The summer after sixth grade, I remember, I worked every day to learn the complete lyrics of the Major General song, and I worked away with a dictionary to learn what every word of it meant. But somehow, the Mikado ended up being my favorite. I think most of all, I liked the irony of it -- the layers and layers of irony. The whole premise of it is that everyone is so serious they cannot see how ridiculous they are. And perhaps that is the message of the play? Ofttimes the reason for a huge amount of seriousness is to cover up how ridiculous a thing is, perhaps? Everyone in it knows they are a character, going through the motions, but it is all they have, so it is what they do. Anyway, it is certainly my favorite of the plays. It keeps moving, and every song is a delight. So, when the Pittsburgh Savoyards (yes, that's a thing, now in their 77th season) offered a performance just minutes from my house, it was hard to stay away.

And they had a lot of fun with it! They always have a mix of players, some more and some less professional, but this cast had a some wonderful performances and singers. The overall choreography was a little clownish for my taste (again, I like irony of the show, which I think comes through more strongly with more serious choreography and blocking), but it was all very pleasing, and wonderful fun. The songs, the rhymes, the logic puzzles, the wistfulness, the decapitation jokes, the second trombone, I think I will never tire of this show. I think these four lines sum it up best...

To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark dock,  

In a pestilential prison, with a life-long lock, 

Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock, 

From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!

GameHorizon 2010

When was invited to speak at GameHorizon, I jumped at the chance. It was a very interesting conference, very intimate, and very high quality. There were some great talks, but for me the highlight was to hear Michael Acton Smith tell the surprising story of Moshi Monsters, which has so many twists and turns, and ended up so happily, it gave me a lot of confidence about my current projects. I also got to chat with Ian Livingstone (co-founder of Games Workshop, pictured), which led me to the realization that there are two Steve Jacksons in the gaming world -- one British, one American -- all this time I thought it was one hyper-productive guy!

Anyway, it was a pleasure to attend Game Horizon, and the organizers were incredibly, uh, organized! They made visiting a real pleasure.

And I think my talk came off okay. There's a summary here, and you can download the slides here. I hope they release a video soon.

ARE 2010

I was incredibly honored to be asked to keynote the ARE2010 conference alongside Will Wright and Bruce Sterling. Highlights for me were getting a chance to talk to those guys, and also getting to meet Rudy Rucker! I had a weird moment where I asked Rudy if he'd heard the announcement Japan has made that they are going to create an outpost of autonomous robots on the moon in 2020, and he just smiled and said, "No, I hadn't heard that." (See, that's the premise of Software, maybe his best known book.)

Anyway, the conference was really cool. I learned a lot about what is going on in the AR world. It really had a feeling like we were at the beginning of something great, like we'd look back one day at that modest gathering, and shake our heads at how naive we were. A bunch of us went out for dinner at the end, and placed bets about how many years this conference will last -- will there be an ARE2020? Most people said 3-5 years... but I don't know... I think that maybe it could go much, much longer.

You can see (crude) recordings of the keynote speeches here: I was really proud at how my talk came off... with one regret -- I had a poem I was going to read to set up the ending, but I was nervous that it would come off corny, or make me go over time. Looking back, I wish I had done it. I hope one day I get a chance to give this talk again.

PBS Kids Producers Summit

This was so cool! The PBS Kids people have a yearly gathering of all their TV and Web producers, to get together and share data and techniques. I was lucky enough to be invited as a keynote, and I got to meet the creators of so many cool shows! Folks from Henson, The Kratt brothers, the makers of Magic School Bus, the Blues Clues / Super Why people, not to mention Sesame Workshop, and so many others. It was a real honor to be able to talk to people who know so very much about how to create world-class educational programming! I gave a talk about Transmedia Worlds, (slides here), that went over pretty well. I might get a video I can put up sometime soon.

Rock U University Spring 2010 Concert

This was awesome. Kids ages 9-16 bringing it at the Hard Rock. We went because one of our neighbors was playing (Sam, age 9, playing guitar for The Flaming Potato Ninjas), and it was totally fun. As I sat listening, I started to think about this awesome article. And I realized, that until now, I've never really understood rock music. I mean, the process of making it. And how the point really is that you need to let the subconscious mind, and the right brain, do their work. It made me think how rock bands almost never have more than four members, just like my BVW groups. Then I got to thinking how my band has sixty people in it... but the rocking never seems to happen in groups larger than four.

In other words, I need to start coding again.

They Might Be Giants: Off the Wall

I've been going to TMBG live shows for, uh, let's see... 21 years now. (Yikes!) and this is the first time I've been to one of their kids shows. It was SO TOTALLY FUN! They had the amps set at a level that wasn't going to deafen anyone, and had earplugs in the lobby, just in case. They arranged a kind of kid mosh pit, which the kids loved, they picked great songs, they had funny puppets, they let the kids strum the guitar for one of the solos, and they made liberal and generous use of the CONFETTI CANNONS! Oh, man, overall, it was just a really good time -- nerd kids, and nerd parents alike had an awesome time at this sold out show. I have never seen so many nerd parents together in one place. Go Pittsburgh! I wonder how long John and John will keep it going? Forever, I hope!

GDC 2010

Man, I'm getting old! I just realized this is my fifteenth GDC! Anyway, it was awesome, as usual. I wish I got to see more talks -- but I had to spend most of my time in meetings. That might sound boring but these were, with few exceptions, awesome meetings. There are things going on in the world of gaming that boggle my mind. I got to give two talks, one a talk about how to design for parents and kids playing together online, and also a microtalk, that was a followup to my DICE talk. I'm hoping that when the GDC Vault opens, I can post video and audio content. For now, you can get my slides at slideshare. It was weird being so well known this time. One of my talks was SRO, which just made me nervous! Hopefully I can fade back into obscurity soon!

DICE Summit 2010

Whew! I sure was nervous about going to DICE this year -- it was the first time that I have been asked to speak there, and I didn't want to mess it up! Fortunately, my talk was well received -- and in fact has caught some attention on the internets. You can see a video of it here.

I found the other talks fascinating -- from Rich LeMarchand to the, uh, bold Bobby Kotick. And this year there were some really unusual talks, about topics like fish, and optical illusions. I love the Red Rock Hotel, and I love being able to spend time chatting in such an intimate environment with so many cool game industry people. Long live DICE!

2010 State of the Union Address

He might say some silly things sometimes, but, man, it's nice to have a president that sounds intelligent.

Cats

I had never seen Cats before. I'd heard the music here and there, and often run into rabid fans of the show, but I'd never seen it. We picked up tickets, because I thought my daughter would enjoy it -- and she did. I was kind of shocked at the structure of the show -- I cannot recall ever having seen something similar. It's basically just a musical revue, but with the very thinnest veneer of story over it. It's a show where 95% of the time is spent introducing the characters, and 5% is spent telling the story. I'm reminded of a story I heard of Andrew Lloyd Webber pitching the show to someone. Halfway through the pitch, which involved the playing of songs at the piano, the person he was pitching to interrupted, "I'm sorry, Andrew, I'm not quite getting this -- what exactly do these cats represent? What is this show about?" Webber replied, "No, no, you don't understand -- it's just about cats."

And I think that is the magic of this show. Cat lovers quietly impart all kinds of secret inner thoughts and lives to their cats, but that's an embarrassing thing to talk about. It's probably not even entirely conscious. And to suddenly be confronted with a broadway show where the secret lives of dozens of familar cat personalities are sung about, danced about, and celebrated majestically must be an overwhelmingly joyous and cathartic experience. Top that off with the fact that old ladies are the greatest lovers of cats, and the most likely to attend broadway shows, and the little plot there is concerns the fact that each year, one cat is chosen to be born again into a kitten, and on top of that, the most touching songs in the show are old cats singing songs of their youth, and well -- it's no wonder this is one of the most successful shows of all time.

I know people deride the show as trite and corny, but as a piece of entertainment crafted for a specific audience, it is a masterpiece. I knew "Memories" was a tearjerker, but I'd never heard the song that Gus the Theater Cat sings -- as a washed up performer myself, I found it to be very touching. I hope that one day, I can create something as simple, powerful, and enduring as this fluffy show.

BVW Show 2009

Oh, man. This was an epic BVW show. Let's see... this makes the eighth one I've been at, and the fifth one I've hosted. And each one seems to have its own excitements, mysteries and charms. I love putting the show together and hosting it -- it lets me fulfill my dream of being Kermit the Frog from the Muppet Show ... and it really is like that: a bunch of crazy acts that don't really make sense, performed by amateurs, every technical problem imaginable happening, and somehow, somehow, every year, we make a show that touches the audience, each year. I can't take any credit for it -- it's like some machine that we all serve, and it never lets us down. This was our first year in the Chosky Theater, as opposed to McConomy lecture hall (where it has always been), and it was worlds (ha) better than it ever has been before, having the amenities of a proper theater. Thanks to all who made this show an amazing success!

Alegria

This was a very pleasing show, though I don't know if it's quite as good as La Nouba. One thing was a little disappointing was that we were in "half arena" setting, placing our seats at a ninety degree angle to the stage. But unfortunately, a number of the routines, especially the clowning routines, could only be fully appreciated from the front. That aside, there were some wonderful performances, and the German wheel performance was the best I've ever seen.