March 10, 2022
Cornerstone On Air – Episode 2
Venice Storytellers: Shhh
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
Welcome back to Cornerstone Theater Company On Air, a companion podcast, where we share our work glimpses behind the curtain and introduce you to our ensemble and communities we tell stories with, for and about. I’m your host, Bruce Lemon an ensemble member of Cornerstone Theater Company. This is episode two of our series focused on Venice storytellers featuring another brand new play created with the community of Venice, California. Our last experience here was in 2016 for our Institute Summer Residency, where we offer multidisciplinary professional training in community based theater. It culminated in the production of “Ghost Town” written by ensemble member, Juliette Carrillo, and starring a few of the people you hear from in this episode, we returned to spend two Saturdays in the neighborhood that Abbot Kinney founded in collaboration with community at the Oakwood Recreation Center. On day one, we gathered in three groups and spent a few hours talking about Venice as history, Venice as home and Venice as a work of art, sharing thoughts, feelings, and experiences then those stories were turned into a play. On day two our cast of community actors and Cornerstone ensemble took the stage surrounded by a bustling audience of family, friends, and a few dogs. Here’s ensemble member, Bahni Turpin to introduce today’s play
Bahni Turpin:
The next Venice Storytellers play we’re going to share is “Shhh” written by Shá Cage, directed by Page Leong.
Poet:
So we would like to give thanks and praise to the ancestors and the traditional African American community here in Oakwood. (Singing)
M.C.:
Shhh, a short drama about the magic of Venice beach, about the unusual yet sensical ways. Art defines culture written by Sha Cage. Location, Venice Beach near Windward circle. The time is the present, past, future in the Christmas holiday season. Prologue: The Elements. A large dog witnesses, a magical stirring of the elements on or near the beach.
Dog:
(RUFF)
Sun:
Imagine a day like any other day, Venetians of all ages do concrete lip tricks in the skate park.
Sand:
Buskers mark a place in the sand, that’s me, and place down their donation hats, a dog barks.
Dog:
(RUFF RUFF)
Sun:
And did I mention that grey skies clear, and an impressively attractive sun peeks through.
Wind:
Around noon. The wind is lovely. I mean, who are we kidding? This is Venice high seventies, but moist enough to stay cool.
Ocean:
In the distance, the waves roll and thunder battling surfers who think they’re tough enough to stay afloat, middle aged women lifting invisible weights in aerobic gear pass by chanting “one, one and two, two, and one and two, two.”
Dog:
(RUFF RUFF)
Poet:
There is something here. There is something akin to a guitar’s, high E or an extended chord on a violin, or maybe a sound barely audible that stimulates the pitter patter in the hearts of people, tingles the air beneath our feet. We sway to the rhythm. This is not music. This is life. It remembers the foodless nights, the broken spirits, the incurable injuries and aching for belonging. It has saved the lives of many of us. This sound, this place, it’s music is present and honest. And even if no one else can hear it, we can
M.C.:
Present
ALL:
What the hell!
M.C.:
A line pushes out onto the new post office wrapping around the street. It is a non-descript beige and blue building basic in stature. One postal attendant is on duty.
Postal Attendant:
Next.
M.C.:
No one moves.
Community Center Elder:
Hey, hey, it’s your turn.
Neighbor #1:
Move up, please. We’re not on vacation here.
Man:
Back down lady.
Neighbor #2:
Move it. I’ve been standing in this line almost an hour.
Postal Attendant:
Somebody please remind me. Are we here for manicures or mail?
Community Center Elder:
Can we all keep the peace?
M.C.:
Cutting the line and placing an oversized holiday box onto the counter.
Neighbor #2:
Ohh, here you go.
M.C.:
Shoves her outta the way.
Man:
Hey, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Wait, your turn lady. I’m here to pick up my mail that hasn’t been delivered for days. Been waiting for my paycheck.
Neighbor #2:
Well, whose problem is that?
College Student:
That my roommate has dogs, so we can’t even get mail delivered anymore.
Homeless Man:
Check? Did somebody say, check?
Neighbor #1:
I’ll tell you whose problem it is, our sleeping on the job, Postmaster General. That’s who,
Homeless Man:
Who took the mural down?
Community Center Elder:
They lied about it being put on display for viewing, and then moved it to some warehouse.
Man:
What mural.
Homeless Man:
Who took down the mural?
College Student:
The postmaster general doesn’t give a damn about us.
Neighbor #2:
You know, the mural. It was at the old post office, the colorful mosaic of all the people of Venice.
College Student:
It was removed and replaced with a tiny little picture. Remember that?
Neighbor #1:
I loved looking up and seeing the gondolas on the canals and the carousel on the pier.
Community Center Elder:
Gave us something to look at when standing in lines like this, filled the whole wall.
Homeless Man:
Where’s the mural? No Fair! Put our mural back I say!
Man:
This postal problem is ridiculous. It’s been going on for months and there doesn’t seem to be any fix anytime soon.
Homeless Man:
Bring the mural back I say.
Man:
I need my mail now!
Neighbor #1:
How much longer for this?
Neighbor #2:
My feet hurt.
Homeless Man:
Check? I’ll take a check?
College Student:
Can’t you call for help dude?
Man:
Face it. The postmaster general is a Trumper.
Neighbor #1:
The public services went out the window with that administration.
Community Center Elder:
Can’t they see that this is a broken system.
Neighbor #2:
I’ve been waiting forever.
College Student:
If the postmaster general had it his way, post offices would be private.
Man:
This is a circus!
Community Center Elder:
Tell me about it.
Neighbor #1:
Nobody cares about us over here.
Neighbor #2:
Why did they remove the mural anyway?
Postal Attendant:
Ahhhhhh! Shut your pie holes! I don’t know about no mural and don’t care. You wanna spend the whole holiday here? I don’t. So wait your turn or go home. Next!
M.C.:
Customers look at each other for and confused. Just then a strong wind blows. Open the door. Somehow this calms the moment.
Wind:
It seemed like a good time for wind. You know?
M.C.:
The two neighbors walk out together, having successfully mailed their packages.
Neighbor #1:
What do you know? It’s sunny again?
M.C.:
The sun shines bright and winks.
Sun:
Nothing like a little sun to cheer people up. Right?
Neighbor #2:
One of the main reasons I moved to Venice beach from New York,
Neighbor #1:
I do find the mural removing pretty upsetting. And we’re stuck with this tiny little plain building with no art at all on the walls.
M.C.:
Breaking news later that evening.
Radio Broadcaster:
Hello? Howdy. Buenas noches, all the above good people. It’s Sunday night and you know where we are live and direct with your main man, Mike Most on Radio Venice, bringing to you the latest sounds from the beach side city. Now all the time and on time. So I’ve got a little special acapella piece for you today. Something I cooked up at the end of, uh, you know, the week called blue. And before I press play, I wanna send a shout out to all my folks who have been waiting on mail, missing mail, unable to send mail and dealing with the system that isn’t listening. We all heard about the ruckus at the post office and are hoping something will change soon. But for now, maybe this will soothe the mood. (Guitar plays)
M.C.:
Past. Remember when everything freezes, the music, the people walking, those stuck at the post office. This is a flashback freeze frame to the past. The ocean roars.
Ocean:
The ocean is a powerful force. Each wave carries a memory, a performance, a ritual and movement. A lens to look back on what was once.
M.C.:
Suddenly two holiday boxes appear in the neighbor’s hands and they are now entering the old post office off Windward. They’re their younger selves, perhaps wearing cool sunglasses or fashionable hats and a young dog barks.
Dog:
(RUFF)
Neighbor #1:
So happy to beat the rush this year and get these packages in the mail.
College Student:
Good afternoon, ladies.
Neighbor #2:
Um, oh, the lines have been so short here at the post office. I was here last week and practically zipped through.
Man:
Oh, that looks heavy. Uh, why don’t you take my spot?
Neighbor #1:
Oh, good Lord. I couldn’t
Man:
Oh, I insist I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t offer. If it’s the holiday spirit, the Venice way.
M.C.:
Homeless Man runs in and ushers the dog out.
Homeless Man:
Come on boy. This way.
College Student:
Aw, cute. Doggie. What’s his name?
Homeless Man:
Buddy.
College Student:
Dogs are great companions. Right?
Homeless Man:
This here dog was with me when I found Venice. A time when I had nothing. And now I’ve got $6 in my pocket from playing my music on the boardwalk. Most I’ve ever made as an artist. Isn’t that right, buddy? (dog barks) Wouldn’t tell a lie. From sleeping in my car after a motorcycle accident and feeling like I didn’t wanna live through the, the next day, to a stranger pulling me out and inviting me to play for coins. No doubt about it. Venice saved my life. (Singing) Inside and wisdom of things you have to earn. Making a living is something you have to learn. I’m just thinking out loud, but in the end, I’m sure you’ll find. When it comes to love forever heart and nevermind.
College Student:
You headed there now.
Homeless Man:
Sure am. Me and buddy here, meeting up with some locals to play through the sunset. Amazing vibe. You should check it out.
College Student:
I think I will. I think I will
M.C.:
Future. Imagine this.
Community Center Elder:
The mural is restored at the post office.
Homeless Man:
Buskers play music on the boardwalk until dark.
Man:
Venetians vow to never leave
College Student:
Music, song, painting, sculpture. Harmony. Art is everywhere. Literally everywhere.
Neighbor #1:
Neighbors sing holiday carols on the street
ALL:
(Singing) Silent night, holy night, All is calm, all is bright…
Neighbor #2:
Others join in, the surfers, homeless, the children, everybody. There’s an appreciation of what exists here.
ALL:
(Singing) Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace.
M.C.:
A magical sculpture appears on the boardwalk made of the elements. Sun, Wind, Ocean, Sand, some marvel at it and others just simply smile and continue on. In many ways this magic is something that they’re used to. It’s part of the art here. The culture.
Sand:
Where there is sand, there is form. There is a never expanding canvas laid out before us with borderless lines. Imagine its artistic possibilities, a cradle waiting to hold to bear witness.
Sun:
Where there is sun there is color. A rainbow of illuminance waiting to appear. The heat bonds, the spaces between the found objects and what appears to be garbage left unkempt.
Wind:
The wind sweeps it all together and finds a place for the tiniest amongst the masterpiece. The living organisms that are sometimes forgotten about, they creep into the holes, the nooks, the crannies, they add their resting bodies, their weight and dimension, a majestic tree. That once lived here on one of those blocks, cut down and replaced by a box house. It reemerges on the easternmost corner, its branches reach toward the sky.
Ocean:
Ocean stands in the shadows and waits patiently. It knows its strength. It knows that around midnight, these things that are now standing will disappear and begin again in another chapter at another time. Its feet plant themselves beneath the sand and wait for the proper moment to pull this memory into her womb.
ALL:
Shhh
M.C.:
Epilogue: the art of music.
Poet:
Listen, listen closer. That is the sound of Venice. Its music is vibrant and thirsty. Aged and reborn again. It rests between the post office mayhem, church lawn protests and ocean waves. Between art crawls, murals, the never ending changing designs on the Venice art walls. STP’s work in communities runs deep. From Robert Graham’s larger than life feminine sculpture in Windward circle that some adore, and others don’t. Different parts of the broken canvas here represent different ones of us. We are living in a breathing mosaic, unmovable, Unerasable. The sound of Venice is open studios. Butterflies and soft breezes. Garden and walkways. Dog shit everywhere. Late night sirens and seagulls singing (Seagulls caw). Classic cars and park music, dogs barking and lawns freshly mowed. It is our daughter’s soft singing, dancing in masks to our neighbors swing trumpet. And first Fridays COVID block parties.
Kenny:
The art of Venice is
Dori:
Hearing Olga next door, playing Bach lessons on her piano.
Kenny:
It is the sound of someone’s exercise tape in the alley
Greg:
and guitar practices.
M.C.:
It is game broadcasts
Carmen:
And trucks beeping in reverse.
Kenny:
Listen,
Nancy:
Listen closer.
Maggie:
The art of Venice sounds like
Carmen:
Bright, vibrant, calming, and joyous melodies
Greg:
Like lemonade on ice. And $1 hot dogs
Kenny:
Like vagabonds, roller skates and bikes,
Dori:
Christmas carolers, and inviting others into your home.
Nancy:
It’s friends and music from across the street.
Poet:
It is listening to waves and to jam sessions. It is music blasting out of the windows of cars driving along the road next to our tents. It’s injustice upon what is here and has always been here. Murmurs of agreement of resurfacing of memory. The sound is misty cold mornings and silent walks alone, a place where greys turn into blues in shades that hide the change. It is where we find ourselves above homes, tiles in a ground mosaic seeking to raise above without absence. It is the sound of Venice.
ALL:
Shhh.
Poet:
Do you hear it?
A Voice:
Do you?
Voices:
Do you?
Voices:
Do you? Do you?
Poet:
Do you?
M.C.:
The end.
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
Once again that was “Shhh”, by Sha Cage directed by Page Leong. Here are some reflections of the experience by community actor, Carmen Navarro, ensemble member, Bahni Turpin, and the playwright, our SDCF Lloyd Richards New Futures Resident, Sha Cage.
Carmen Navarro:
Hi, my name is Carmen Navarro. I was in “Ghost Town” and I was in “Shhh” right? That was the name of ours. And once again, Cornerstone just batted it out of the park community-based, done by the community, for the community. We can hardly wait for them to, you know, come back.
Bahni Turpin:
I’m Bahni Turpin, and in Venice Storytellers, I was an actor.
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
As a member of Cornerstone’s ensemble, how does it feel to reunite with community in the very location you performed in “Ghost Town”?
Bahni Turpin:
That was great. That was great. There were a lot of folks from “Ghost Town” and other shows that we’ve done in the past, cause we, you know, we don’t leave people in the dust.
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
What was the best part about coming together to tell some stories today?
Bahni Turpin:
Well, you know, at this moment in time, it was great to actually be able to come together with folks and to defy the fear and isolation that the last two years has been and come together and actually make live theater with some people, whether we had to wear masks or not. I think that a lot of people were hungry for that. I think that one of the reasons that we had the turnout of participants that we did have was because people want to get out and connect. People are missing connection with other people at this point in time.
Shá Cage:
Uh, my name is Shá cage and, uh, I was a playwright, uh, with the Venice Storytellers.
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
Is this your first time working with Cornerstone Theater Company?
Shá Cage:
It, it was my first time in a creative, uh, capacity and I, I gotta say it was pretty amazing. I, you know, I think, you know, with the pandemic and the damper on, you know, some of the creative things that we can do, um, I think, you know, it really kind of set a light and, and like brought some sun and reminded us that we, we are amazingly creative in this moment and community can still come together and be safe. Um, yeah, I just, I was inspired by the Venice project. Um, what, not only like what we can do in such a small amount of time, but you know, I think sometimes as theater makers, we get into this grand and I’m speaking for myself, but we get into the notion that everything has to be big and glossy and, you know, shiny. And, um, and I, I just love being reminded that, um, it can be simple and it can be, um, present and it can be immediate. Um, and it can also be small and, and still very beautiful.
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
You’re currently with us in residency as part of our ensemble. Uh, how does it feel putting on live theater at a time when it feels almost impossible?
Shá Cage:
Oh man. I mean, yeah, so I’m, uh, the Lloyd Richard’s, uh, fellow in directing with Cornerstone. It’s, it’s incredible. I mean, you know, in some ways, you know, it’s like my, if my grandma was here, she’d be like, what y’all pontificating on, you know, like we’ve been doing that since the beginning of time. Right. Um, shifting and adapting to the moment. So in some ways I think, you know, we’re just reminded that we do have the capacity to shift, you know what I mean? Like nobody’s holding our, you know, holding a gun up to our heads. Um, and, and I think that’s beautiful. I mean, I I’ve had the opportunity to work at really big institutions and really small ones that don’t even call themselves organizations or institutions. Um, so seeing what neighborhoods have been able to do in this moment and, uh, with their creativity, Cornerstone is very bendable. What is, is what I’m learning. And I think that’s what this moment calls for. It’s a pandemic y’all, you know, so we don’t, there’s no script, we just we’re figuring it out as we go. And we’re hoping that all our lived experiences of how do we show up in the right way is informing us. And so what I experienced, um, was all of those things. Um, and yeah, and, and hearing from the community that it was a gift. So I think we, we all walked away, um, being able to smile.
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
Thank you so much for listening and to all the beautiful people who joined us live for that performance. Let’s show some love and acknowledge all the folks who made it happen. Hey, John, you know what it is, hitting was something to celebrate the community.
Bruce Lemon, Jr.:
“Shhh” by Shá Cage was directed by Page Leong, featuring Monique Afenjar, Doris Baizley, Gregory Cruz, Marcenus M.C. Earl, Maggie Franckhauser, Bridget Graham, Carmelita Navarro, Kenny Ramos, Peggy Taylor and Nancy Wilding. With production support by Kamilah Cooper-Charles, Paula Donnelly, Ilana Elroi, Michael John Garcés, Peter Howard, Leo Korf, Bruce Lemon, John Nobori, Curtis Scheu, and Megan Wanlass. With thanks to Sandy Adams, Baja Citizen, Steve Clare, Steve Clark, East Venice Neighborhood Association, Betsy Goldman, Bruno Hernandez and STP Foundation, Dr. Naomi Nightingale, Keith Rice, Mike Suhd, The Beachhead, Kristina von Hoffman and Venice Heritage Museum with Trevor. Special Thanks to Carmen Navarro, Jataun Valentine, Sue Kaplan and the Oakwood Recreation Center and their staff. Venice Storytellers is made possible in part by grants from the Annenberg Foundation, the Sheri and Les Biller Family Foundation, the California Arts Council, a state agency, Capital Group, Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors through the Los Angeles County Department of Arts and Culture, Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs, Los Angeles Regional COVID-19 Recovery Fund, The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, the Muriel Pollia Foundation, the Shubert Foundation, the Kathryn Caine Wanlass Charitable Foundation, and individual donors. If you’d like to support our work, hit the link in our liner notes. Our intro music is the song “40 Feet Wide” by Shishir Kurup with song orchestrations by David Markowitz, from the play “Ghost Town”, everything you heard was recorded on the traditional, ancestral, and unceded territory of the Gabrielino/Tongva peoples. This podcast was produced by Cornerstone ensemble members, Michael Garcia, John Nobori, and me, Bruce Lemon. Thanks for listening, til the next episode.
Shá Cage:
Um, I don’t know you and, um, I don’t wanna be here. (Laughter) Just kidding. Um, my name is Shá Cage and, uh, I was a playwright, uh, with the Venice Storytellers…
