Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Madame X Massacre Masterpiece

Madonna takes an important stance for gun control in her latest video masterpiece for the ‘Madame X’ opus. ‘God Control’ is probably the most amazing track on the album – a dark, dreamy disco diatribe against one of American society’s most tragic epidemics. Directed by Jonas Akerlund (see also ‘Ray of Light‘ and ‘American Life‘) it’s a powerful time-rewind piece of videography that rivals her best work – and as Madonna is one of the world’s most striking video-makers, that’s saying quite a lot. It’s like the tragic step-sister to ‘Deeper and Deeper‘ – or the long-lost bitter cousin of ‘Music‘ – or the darker baby brother of ‘Hung Up‘. Still, it stands on its own as a masterful piece of storytelling, and a chilling indictment of the gun-obsessed society into which our country has denigrated. Most of us remember the horrific mass shooting at Pulse nightclub. How long until it gets even closer? 

This is your wake up call. Gun violence disproportionately affects children, teenagers and the marginalized in our communities. Honor the victims and demand GUN CONTROL. NOW. Volunteer, stand up, donate, reach out. Wake up and insist on common-sense gun safety legislation. Innocent lives depend on it. Join me in supporting the following organizations: https://everytownresearch.org/

https://marchforourlives.com/

https://www.gaysagainstguns.net/

https://www.sandyhookpromise.org/

https://www.hrc.org/

https://www.thetaskforce.org/

https://transequality.org/

http://www.ncadv.org/

https://www.onepulseforamerica.com/

https://ceasefireusa.org/ https://marshap.org/

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

Those days when you can’t decide if you have a real stomachache or if your pants are just squeezing your balls too tightly.

#TinyThreads

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Before the Pride Parade Goes By

Once upon a time I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the night that New York State passed marriage equality. Only the year before, Andy and I had had to go to Boston to get legally married. We drove into Albany to celebrate, and as we neared Rocks, I felt a burden lift from my shoulders, a weight to which I’d grown unnoticeably accustomed. It had always been there, and I had never known

When you’ve spent your entire life being told, in explicit and furtive terms, to be silent, to be quiet, to be less, the first taste of true freedom, of genuine equality, is an enthralling relief. We exhaled that night – an exhalation decades in the making – and the state of New York suddenly galvanized something in some of us that we’d never even known was there. A sense of worth that I had long pretended I didn’t need.

The same thing happened when we watched from afar as the White House was lit in the colors of the rainbow and marriage equality was made the law of the land. The exhalation. The sudden lifting of a burden that was still somehow there.

With the current administration, I feel those burdens being placed on some of us again. With every murder of a transgender person, with every refusal to fly the rainbow flag, with every appointment of an anti-LGBTQ judge, I feel the burden get heavier. We have come too far and fought for too long to go back. And so I resist as best I can. In little ways and little words. In posts like this that maybe someone in need may read and recognize themselves, offering a resonance that might be the extra push someone needs to stop crying, or stop hurting themselves, or stop dying.

In our daily life, we must refuse to be anything less than who we are.

It is our right to become what we were meant to be.

It is our right to find happiness.

It is our right to live as we wish.

Such a simple concept, why it should be so fraught with enemies is incomprehensible to me.

This weekend, World Pride comes to New York City, and the parade looks to be one of the largest the world has ever seen. Until such time that we don’t have to fight, until that day when we have all achieved equality without question, reservation, or condition, then we need Pride. Perhaps now more than ever.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

Co-worker: You don’t need a coat.

Me: Yes. I do. I’m dainty.

#TinyThreads

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Upon Further Reflection

Albany is beautiful, when the light is right, when the water is still, when the wind is soft. It has moments of rage and raw power too – we all do – when the clouds are in a tumult, when the wind is in a riot or the air is dense and heavy with rain. The bane of the Northeast.

As much as I enjoy the sun and warm weather, I know that part of its appeal is the relative scarcity of it (at least that’s how it feels after the spring we had). A year of sun and heat in Florida or California would be stultifying to me – a lifetime of it feels like it would be deadly. My countenance requires change and seasonal shifts. A chance for a completely new wardrobe. All those wonderful coats… all those cozy scarves… all those glorious boots…

And at this time of the year, all that magnificent summer – even if it has to rain a little.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

“Starting a podcast is the millennial version of let’s start a band.”

I don’t know who said it, but I love it.

#TinyThreads

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The 1st Summer Recap of 2019

Whoo-hoo, summer living is here at last! After a magical weekend in Boston we returned to a sunny Sunday afternoon by the pool. But that’s between me and my husband. (I’ll tell you later this week…) On with the recap that ushered in the summer season…

It began with Madonna (who just earned another #1 album with ‘Madame X’ so hate on, haters). The Madonna Timeline returned with ‘Borrowed Time’ from the ‘Rebel Heart’ album. 

The linden trees burst into fragrant bloom, sure sign of summer sweetness. 

These #TinyThreads proved to be as silly as they were substantial. Well, some of the time. 

We are all Madame X.

Do you know Lionel Prichard

A wondrous ‘Sunset Boulevard’ at the Mac-Haydn Theatre. 

Florals are not just for spring

Summer has returned!

A super-hunky shirtless post

Doing it doggy-style.

The Hunks of the Day were back, featuring Tony Dokoupil, Tegan Zayne, and Eric Dane.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

A word or few on the bachelorette party: bane of the gay bar’s existence. While most view the bachelorette party with a weary, hateful eye, I usually think, ‘Oh, let them enjoy their day-long glory. They can go back to worshipping me the remaining 364 days of the year,’ and then it usually happens.

#TinyThreads

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Doggy-Style, With Wood

While the weather this season has been mixed at best, the silver lining is that it’s provided ideal conditions for a long and showy performance of the spring bloomers, most strikingly our Chinese dogwood trees. Their buds, formed in the heat of late summer, survived the winter winds, and are now surrounded by the creamy white bracts you see here. (The actual flowers are tiny and unremarkable – think poinsettias.)

The Chinese dogwood has proven hardier than its American counterpart, resisting the dreaded diseases that have taken down so many of the latter. Their blooming time is a little later too, which is nice when the warm weather takes a little longer to arrive. (Ahem, I’m waiting…)

These glorious dogwoods join the peonies and lilacs in a stellar display during an otherwise drab stretch of rain. Like stars shooting through the sky, they provide a necessary dose of pizzazz and sparkle – a happy harbinger of the summer season.

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

In my rapidly-advancing age I find it much easier to say a kind word instead of a mean one. There is less effort involved. And when it comes to criticism, a little goes a long way. (In the words of Norma Desmond, “I can say anything I want with my eyes!”)

There is something powerful in not saying anything out loud if you have nothing nice to say. A literally-unsaid sort of power.

#TinyThreads

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Summer Come Lately

It’s fitting that this summer post is a day late, as the season seems to be lagging behind sun-wise too. It’s been reported that this weekend may turn that around, and I’m hoping that’s the case because Andy and I are due in Boston to see ‘Miss Saigon’  – and the heat simply has to be on in Saigon.

Summer in Boston is sometimes a mixed bag. There are wonderful days, and there are horrors. We haven’t had a stretch of overheated weather, so it shouldn’t be unbearable yet. (Once that heat gets down into the subway system it won’t let go until October.) For now, there are pleasant opportunities for sidewalk dining and evening strolling. It’s also perfect for walking to Sunday brunch.

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A Flower Party

The simple but potent beauty of a flower.

The way some openly smile, the way some blush,

the way some take their time, the way some rush.

A flower is reason enough for a party.

A flower is reason enough for a thrill.

We bloom and we bloom,

and we stave off the doom.

At the end of it all

If we’re lucky we zoom

to the high crest of the thing, to the ridge of the petals,

to the beard of an iris or the prick of a nettle.

Another story is about to be told

and the language of flowers is sometimes secret.

In whispered dew drops

Invisible perfume

In lace-caps and umbrels

Leaves pointed and smooth

An army of thorns

Bitter sting of a vine

Sweet fragrance entwined

The garden untamed,

the garden unclaimed

leave nothing unnamed

leave nothing unblamed

Marry antique roses

To wise, merry lavender

Floral mingling

Pungent tingling

The kind of mid-afternoon

Mid-summer

Ripe for a Flower Party…

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

My oboe teacher taught me a great many life lessons over the years, not the least of which was, “Don’t stick your butt out when you bow.”

It took some practice, but eventually I got it.

I got it good.

#TinyThreads

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Review: ‘Sunset Boulevard’ at the Mac-Haydn Theatre

‘Sunset Boulevard’ was one of the last of the big-budget Andrew Lloyd Webber ‘event’ musicals that came from Britain in the 1990’s, and as such its initial staging was overwhelmed by an incredible floating mansion set, as well as the behind-the-scenes fireworks of its casting. The latter is what any proper production of ‘Sunset’ depends upon, and having seen productions of this musical falter and fall completely apart when Norma Desmond is even the slightest bit mis-cast, it’s always a risky endeavor staging this show. After having the great fortune of seeing Glenn Close perform the show in both its original Broadway version and subsequent revival, as well as Betty Buckley during the original run, I’m admittedly spoiled when it comes to who dons Norma’s legendary turban.

While Ms. Desmond is indeed a showy part, it’s easily overdone, and demands more nuance and care than one might assume. It also requires some steely vocal chops, or the gift to act one’s way around them. Elizabeth Ward Land takes on the coveted role and she is gloriously up to the difficult task on all fronts. Her Norma is vixenish, vulnerable and vivaciously volatile. Even better, she has the vocal prowess to land the big arias without losing any complexity of character. After her entrance and the first act showstopper ‘With One Look’, fans of the musical can breathe a sigh of relief knowing that this production is in beautiful voice and gorgeously-bejeweled hands. 

The musical itself remains one of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s darker and more challenging works – its cynically-dour use-or-be-used aspects offering little hope in the brutal wake of Hollywood’s movie-making ferocity. Its two leads leave little to be loved, and the success of any production relies upon both Norma and Joe finding some bit of heart and heat to brighten the dim corridors of such craven survival. (It’s also one of the more problematic musical works: the basic premise of the original movie was that this silent-screen star failed as soon as the ‘talkies’ arrived – it defeats itself when you turn something that basically decries the voice into a musical that extols it.)

What carried the original show was star power and a few of those famous arias – witness the grandiosity of Buckley’s’As If We Never Said Goodbye’ or the wounded viciousness of Close’s final mad scene. When lesser actors took on the role of Norma, the high-points of the show were muted, yet it often worked to the production’s advantage because it became more even. The Mac-Haydn version finds a happy middle-ground, managing to both raise the company as a whole while shining a well-deserved spotlight on Ms. Land’s impressive performance. Without the gimmick of a floating mansion or the might of a 40-piece orchestra, this production relies on the talents of each troupe member and musician.

The quartet of lead characters work almost flawlessly to deliver a powerful telling of the story, with the notable highlight of James Zannelli as Max Von Mayerling, who ends up revealing himself as the emotional, if warped, heart of the story. As Joe Gillis, Pat Moran veers a little too close to snarky territory, slightly missing the mark of the more moving aspects of the character, but his voice is a potent force, and he had no trouble navigating the tricky time signature of the title tune. Rachel Pantazis adds a few new layers to the ingenue role she so winningly portrayed in the Mac-Hadyn’s recent production of ‘Curtains’ and as Betty Schaefer she luminously glows in one of the few hopeful moments of the show. 

With musical direction by David Marline, this production wisely focuses on the melodies at hand – the winsome ‘Perfect Year’ and catchy ‘The Lady’s Paying’ (along with its second act reprise ‘Eternal Youth is Worth a Little Suffering’). Mr. Moran and Ms. Pantazis even manage to turn the weakest song in the show (‘Too Much in Love To Care’) into a palatable showstopper. In the end, though, this story belongs to Norma Desmond, which is entirely as it should be, and Ms. Land delivers a performance worthy of the legendary lady herself ~ diva-like, endearing, and deliciously diabolical. 

{‘Sunset Boulevard’ runs through June 30 at the Mac-Haydn Theatre.}

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Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series

It’s ok to walk with a shadow.

Some days it’s the only thing that proves the sun is out.

#TinyThreads

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