In honor of adding Tom Waits to the list of Fellow Travelers. This one’s for you, Deirdre….
Month: May 2009
Warning: Armed and Dangerous
If you see the two women above, be forewarned: they are extremely talented, ruthlessly funny, and frighteningly intelligent. They’re also doing a show called Live Nude Fear! which runs for one more week at Portland’s IFCC (the link below provides the details). I will admit that they’ve been friends of mine for years and we’ve worked together on several memorable theatre projects, but their poor choice in friends doesn’t diminish that they’ve put together a terrific show that, from time to time, veers delightfully out into the ozone, where the air gets weird. Steve sez check it out:
Photographer who took famous Saigon photo dies
HONG KONG – Hugh Van Es, a Dutch photojournalist who covered the Vietnam War and recorded the most famous image of the fall of Saigon in 1975 — a group of people scaling a ladder to a CIA helicopter on a rooftop — died Friday morning in Hong Kong, his wife said. He was 67 years old.
Van Es died in Queen Mary Hospital in Hong Kong, where he had lived for more than 35 years. He suffered a brain hemorrhage last week and never regained consciousness, his wife Annie said. Hospital officials declined to comment.
Slender, tough-talking and always ready with a quip, Van Es was considered by colleagues to be fearless and resourceful. He remained a towering figure after the war in journalism circles in Asia, including his adopted home in Hong Kong.
“Obviously he will be always remembered as one of the great witnesses of one of the great dramas in the second half of the 20th century,” said Ernst Herb, president of Hong Kong’s Foreign Correspondent Club.
“He really captured the spirit of foreign reporting. He was quite an inspiration,” Herb said.
He arrived in Hong Kong as a freelancer in 1967, joined the South China Morning Post as chief photographer, and got a chance the following year to go to Vietnam as a soundman for NBC News, which he took. After a brief stint, he joined The Associated Press photo staff in Saigon from 1969-72 and then covered the last three years of the war from 1972-75 for United Press International.
His photo of a wounded soldier with a tiny cross gleaming against his dark silhouette, taken 40 years ago this month, became the best-known picture from the May 1969 battle of Hamburger Hill.
And his shot of the helicopter escape from a Saigon rooftop on April 29, 1975 became a stunning metaphor for the desperate U.S. withdrawal and its overall policy failure in Vietnam.
As North Vietnamese forces neared the city, upwards of 1,000 Vietnamese joined American military and civilians fleeing the country, mostly by helicopters from the U.S. Embassy roof.
A few blocks distant, others climbed a ladder on the roof of an apartment building that housed CIA officials and families, hoping to escape aboard a helicopter owned by Air America, the CIA-run airline.
From his vantage point on a balcony at the UPI bureau several blocks away, Van Es recorded the scene with a 300-mm lens — the longest one he had.
It was clear, Van Es said later, that not all the approximately 30 people on the roof would be able to escape, and the UH-1 Huey took off overloaded with about a dozen.
The photo earned Van Es considerable fame, but in later years he told friends he spent a great deal of time explaining that it was not a photo of the embassy roof, as was widely assumed.
The image gained even greater iconic status after the musical Miss Saigon featured the final Americans evacuating from the city from the Embassy roof by helicopter. Van Es was upset about the play’s use of the image that he so famously captured, and believed he was ripped off. He had long considered legal action but decided against it.
Born in Hilversum, the Netherlands, Hubert Van Es learned English from hanging out as a kid with soldiers during World War II.
He said he decided to become a photographer after going to a photo exhibit at a local museum when he was 13 years old and seeing the work of legendary war photographer Robert Capa.
After graduating from college, he started working as a photographer in 1959 with the Nederlands Foto Persbureau in Amsterdam, but Asia became his home.
When the Vietnam war ended in 1975, van Es returned to Hong Kong where he freelanced for major American and European newspapers and magazines and shot still photos for many Hollywood movies on locations across Asia.
Van Es, who served as president of the Hong Kong FCC in the early 1980s, was often found holding court at the club, his firsthand accounts and opinions sought out by reporters new and old.
“His presence there is really memorable,” Herb said.
He covered the Moro rebellion in the Philippines and was among the horde of journalists who flew into Kabul to cover the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. CBS cameraman Derek Williams got through immigration but everyone else was stopped and held in the transit lounge.
“As they were then being shepherded back to the plane,” Williams recalled, “Hugh saw an open door to his left, and just made a break for it with only his camera bag. He ran through the terminal and jumped into a taxi to try to get to the Intercontinental Hotel.”
Afghan police arrested van Es, but the plane had taken off so they took him to the hotel. Williams said he and van Es spent three days in Kabul before being expelled. Van Es’ still photos, for Time magazine, were the first to capture Soviet tanks rolling into Afghanistan.
He and his wife, Annie, whom he met in Hong Kong, were married for 39 years. He is survived by Annie and a sister in Holland.
___
Marquez reported from Hong Kong and Pyle from Washington. Associated Press writers Edith M. Lederer in New York and Dikky Sinn in Hong Kong contributed to this report.
Here She Comes

If anybody knows the chords or guitar tabs for the following Slowdive song off the album “Souvlaki,” please send them to me. Thanks. Not the same as the Velvet Underground song, “Here She Comes Now.”
HERE SHE COMES
It’s so lonely in this place
So cold I don’t believe
And as no one knows my name
It’s easy to pretend
It’s easy to believe
There’s a shadow on my wall
It dances like my soul
Dances like my soul
It’s so cold now
I swear it will be warm
Here she comes now
A Little Midnight

I’ve talked a little bit about “Bluer Than Midnight”–my play about the Civil Rights Movement, the Blues…and the Afterlife–a little bit here, but I haven’t shared any of it. So, just for the hell of it, here’s a sample. Virgil’s trying to track down a missing Freedom Rider and aspiring blues musician…on the other side. Naturally, his quest leads him to the Crossroads, where he meets a Stranger. Try reading it while playing the Little Junior Parker tune in the post below….
STRANGER
What brings you to these crossroads on such a disagreeable night?
VIRGIL
It’s beautiful this evening.
Flash of lightning. Thunder. This continues throughout scene.
VIRGIL
Here to meet someone.
STRANGER
And who might that be?
VIRGIL
Not sure. Thought you might know.
STRANGER
Me? I don’t even know you. How would I know your party?
VIRGIL
Thought you might be the guy.
STRANGER
Is that so? What’s your name?
VIRGIL
Virgil. What’s yours?
STRANGER
Can’t you guess? Call me…. Well, what difference does it make? Let’s suppose, for conversation sake, I’d be the person you’re looking for. What would you want from me?
VIRGIL
Information.
STRANGER
Oh? I can provide many kinds of information. The thing is, for the information to be of any value to you, it would have to be of value to me. I’m just as helpful as I can be, but I’m not in the habit of giving things away. One must get by, you know?
VIRGIL
Got about a hundred bucks left. You can have that.
STRANGER
A whole hundred dollars? That’s gracious. But I’m hesitant to traffic in currency. It’s so uncertain. One day, everybody wants it. Time passes, it’s just paper.
VIRGIL
If I had gold, I’d give you that. I don’t.
STRANGER
Gold is so…heavy. And basically I’m very, very lazy.
VIRGIL
What would you suggest?
STRANGER
Sir…I don’t make suggestions.
This hippest thing ever…
Sorry there’s no actual video, just a still picture, but it’s the cover version of the song that counts. The artist is Little Junior Parker. For my friend Mead, who I think would dig this….
…if at some point I snag a production for my play “Bluer Than Midnight,” this song would come up at the first production meeting.
Gonzovation
You ever worked in an office where they have those motivational posters up on the wall? You’re, like, stuck in the copy room, making page after page of copies of, say, a huge book where it has to be reduced and held by hand, and every other copy comes out cut off, requiring the book to be repositioned, and you’re making 120-page sets of 20, and the machine regularly jams at 17, and you’re pulling bits and pieces of shredded paper out of the machine and burning your hand on the fuser, and you’re cursing–quietly–while thinking: “For this I went to journalism school?”
And just about when you’re beginning to revise your resignation letter in your head, you look up to check the clock you’re trying to beat, and you see on the wall some goddamn picture of some goddamn crocus forcing its goddamned head through the goddamned snow, and it has a caption in bold serif saying something like “FORTITUDE” or “COURAGE.” Yes? And there’s that awful split-second where, in your mind’s eye, you can see that beautifully framed print flying out of the copy room like a rectangular frisbee and, with a shattering boom, showering the reception area with glass.
Well, someone’s been clever with Photoshop and made motivational posters for the rest of us, featuring a man who got fired from LIFE magazine for kicking a candy dispensing machine to death.
Good morning, good morning, good morning….
Hunter S. Thompson on The Meaning of Breakfast:
“Breakfast is the only meal of the day that I tend to view with the same kind of traditionalized reverence that most people associate with Lunch and Dinner. I like to eat breakfast alone, and almost never before noon; anybody with a terminally jangled lifestyle needs at least one psychic anchor every twenty-four hours, and mine is breakfast. In Hong Kong, Dallas or at home — and regardless of whether or not I have been to bed — breakfast is a personal ritual that can only be properly observed alone, and in a spirit of genuine excess. The food factor should always be massive: four Bloody Marys, two grapefruits, a pot of coffee, Rangoon crepes, a half-pound of either sausage, bacon, or corned beef hash with diced chiles, a Spanish omelette or eggs Benedict, a quart of milk, a chopped lemon for random seasoning, and something like a slice of Key lime pie, two margaritas, and six lines of the best cocaine for dessert…. Right, and there should also be two or three newspapers, all mail and messages, a telephone, a notebook for planning the next twenty-four hours and at least one source of good music…. All of which should be dealt with outside, in the warmth of a hot sun, and preferably stone naked.”
Another Modest Proposal
So the catchword these days is “transparency.” Obama’s going to put the budget online so taxpayers can look it up, to see how their tax dollars are spent (provided they have time to search through all 700 pages or so). The bank “stress tests” will show which banks are healthy and which need to capitalize to survive tough economic. We’re all striving to be as transparent as ghost shrimp.
So….
Here’s my suggestion. Theatres, large and small, should post on their Web sites a breakdown of how your ticket’s spent.
I’m not saying actual amounts. That’s proprietary information, affected by private salary and contract agreements, and so on. I’m just saying percentages. Whether you buy a ticket at Huge LORT Theatre Productions or at Hardscabble Basement Productions, you can see what percentage of your ticket goes to pay for facilities, marketing, insurance, management, and, most importantly, artists–meaning actors, designers, techies, directors, and writers. What percentage does the playwright or actors get of each dollar you lay down? This isn’t to say artistic directors aren’t artists–there’s an element of art (or at least craft) in pulling a season together. But in a time when CEO’s salaries are coming into question, I think it’s fair to separate management’s percentage from the rest of the artistic staff (though artistic directors sure as hell aren’t pulling down salaries comparable to, say, Wall Street brokerages).
What difference does it make? Well, maybe you’ll find out huge LORT theatre grants a handsome percentage to the artists, and, if you think artists should be recognized, that’s just one more reason to go there. Or you might find that a larger percentage of your ticket paid to low-overhead, tiny theatres charging you $12 or $15 actually goes to the people you see performing or pulling the lights up and down. The way it is now, who knows?
Now, this wouldn’t be a perfect measurement as it doesn’t take in scale: the LORT theatre may pay a smaller percentage to artists than the little theatre but it turns out that percentage is substantially more money, and, similarly, the little theatre may be able to pay artists a bigger percentage because their percentage of overhead is so much lower. And that percentage can’t be directly linked with artistic quality…as far as we know. If we actually had that information, we might be able to deduce relationships that are currently…opaque.
In other words, right now, we don’t know. And if we care about artists getting compensated for their work–and unless we’re going to the theatre to impress a hot date or get invited to parties–art is the reason we go to theatres, then I think it’s fair to ask.
Isn’t it?
Advertisements for Myself

This morning, I was listening to U2’s “Miss Sarajevo,” and I felt a sudden surge of affection for “Liberation”–a drama I wrote about the Bosnian War. I’m not saying it’s the best play ever written, blah blah, but I think I can say without exaggeration that it’s a defiant, uncompromising bastard that challenges theatres and their audiences, running hard right to the edge of what’s bearable, and it would be a joy to see it up on its dark, evil feet again.
So, what the hell…here’s the info. Please pass it on if you know a theatre company that specializes in, without apologies, kicking ass:
And while I’m at it, kudos to Origninal Works Publishing, Stark Raving Theatre, and Rude Guerrilla Theatre Company for having the balls to take the ride.

