That was almost two years ago, and while it’s true that trying to have fun during an election year can seem emotionally risky, we’re gonna do it again. We’re gonna party. And we want you to come. Actually, let’s be honest - we need you to come. We won’t have fun without you. I mean, no pressure but...come hang out with us in our teen center/ski lodge/romantic novel!!!! Why is it a teen center/ski lodge/romantic novel? What do those three things have to do with each other? Hopefully we’ll raise enough moolah at the party to finish the show so we can all find out! In the mean time, we can tell you a couple of things it means:

​1. It means a bunch of adult-somethings will give in to their primal teen-something urges and present us with FRANKEN-TEEN COVER BANDS! Unholy monsters of angst, hormones, and teen idols: Lesley Gore in the style of The Runaways (RUNAWAY GORE!), Minor Threat in the style of The Violent Femmes (VIOLENT THREAT!), and Hanson in the style of Sam Cooke (HANSAM COOKE!), performed by inimitable Sam Cooke tributionist Ronald Peet. All the indecision and noise you thought you’d grow out of but never did!!

2. It means you will be guided through the evening by Ikechukwu Ufomadu (of Ike at Night) and Brendan Thomas Crowley, Byronic comedic icons, who might award you PRIZES PRIZES PRIZES for top-notch party behavior.

3. It means your favorite 7-train journey through sexual majesty, L’Amour Bleu, will be doing something they said would be “on theme” and I’m worried.

4. It means spiritual advisor Jess Goldschmidt will be creating a special I’m Okay You’re Okay haven for your teenage soul.

5. It means that we will dance like the weird kids in school right up until our curfew!

6. It means you will have the opportunity to bid on PRIZES PRIZES PRIZES in our famous raffle! Yes, some lucky bastard WILL get to attack us with pies again! And yes, we will have beautiful handmade jewelry, art, pottery, a wine tour voucher (yeah we're not such slobs afterall) and more!!

7. It means you can honor the greatest fundraising tradition of them all, YE OLDE BAKE SALE!

8. It means you can just lounge around after a tough day on the slopes and talk to your friends if you want. Relax, man!

All of this will go down at BEAM center, which is the kind of place we all wish we’d been able to go to as kids. Let’s do this, dudes. Let’s escape to the mountains and be free again!!! These are the details:

SATURDAY MARCH 26
8PM-1AM
at BEAM CENTER
60 Sackett St. (Carroll Gardens)
$15 - $25, whatever feels doable

This is the facebook event where you can access more details and invite everyone you know! https://www.facebook.com/events/1219250634769281/
Here are some of the fine folks who have made generous donations to our raffle:
Zonum
Sofia
Eileen Meny
Shackleton Thomas
and, as mentioned, more!

Say it with me now: PARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTYPARTY!!!

Oh, and here is our magnificent flyer, on an original Ski End print by Lilah Freedland:

The year is drawing to a close, and as with every other year, it's like "what the f#@k is going on?!" 

But despite the uncertainty and the worry --as with every year --Piehole has countless blessings to be thankful for, and that must be celebrated!

2015 was an incredibly fruitful year for us, from Old Paper Houses at the Irondale, to the sold out run of Hand Foot Fizzle Face at JACK, to the recent explorations of our newest project Ski End (working title). What has meant the most through all our growth and success has been the deepening of bonds with our community of supporters, friends, and family. You stoked our creative fires by sharing valuable feedback, donating essential funds, and showing up again and again to make something special happen. We are so lifted, supported, and inspired by you. Thank you!

But you know what? Let's get a little more specific...

As 2015 winds down, we're endlessly thankful for Jessie Renee Hopkins, Benoit Johnson, Emilie Soffe and Ben Vigus, and the countless hours they spent --as writers, performers and collaborators --throwing themselves wholeheartedly into a creative abyss and wrangling with all the stuff that was there... all while being some of the nicest, funniest people you'll ever get to spend time with. 

We got the chance to perform with so many mega talented actors this year. The time, effort, patience and creativity they offered us didn't just make our shows shine on stage, but created a wonderfully charged rehearsal room, where chances were taken and discoveries made. Thank you to the incomparable Marcia Brannock, Nora Fox, Emily Jon Mitchell, Stacey Karen Robinson, and Joshua David Robinson.

We're thankful for the incredible artists and designers we've worked with this year, each of whom is an alchemist bringing so much of themselves to our work, uncovering secrets and surprises we never would have found ourselves... ahem... Krit Robinson, Lea Bertucci, Rebecca Breheney, Mike Costagliola, Nikki Delhomme, Deepali Gupta, Eileen Meny, Paul Piekarz, Matt Romein, Jason Sigal, Masha Tsimring, Joseph Wolfslau, and Serena Wong.

Thank you to our producers! Maddy Bersin and Katie Naka, you lightened our administrative work-load so we could focus on what was happening on stage. You brought our work to wider audiences. You put out bad fires and started good ones, and you are just awesome to be around. Thank you!

And, of course, none of this would be possible without the tireless, generous work of our stage managers and tech staffers. Mikenzie Ames, Matt Carrington, Kelsey Kennedy, Victoria Rulle and Hannah Spratt, thank you!

And to all the musicians, fortune tellers, DJs and poets who leant their talents to the Old Paper Houses post-show post-utopian hangout zone, thank you for making our dreams come true!

We're thankful for the production assistance and mentorship of New York Theatre Workshop, and our a residency at The Drama League. Both of these establishments created warm and welcoming spaces for us to test out ideas, make mistakes, and score some terrific victories.

Time and again, the New York Theater Workshop offered us mentorship, invaluable critique and that white whale of independent theater: space. Each of the three productions we've worked on this year was heavily supported by this generous establishment. 

Thank you also to the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council! Being part of the Workspace Residency has been a game-changer for us. Every day, we head to our very own studio overlooking what feels like all of New York City, and --in between Mad Men impressions --we count our lucky stars for this opportunity. More on that here.  ​

We're thankful to the lovely, dedicated staff of The Irondale Center who helped us stage our most ambitious production to date (as well as about a million other events). And we're immensely thankful to Alec Duffy at JACK theater for his support and faith, and for lending us a giant tent. 

We are also tremendously thankful to the New Ohio Theater and IRT Theater for giving us the honor of being participants in the 2016-17 New Ohio/IRT Archive Residency. For the next two years, the New Ohio and IRT will provide us with administrative and financial support, workshop space, and a presentation in the 2016 Ice Factory Festival. In the Spring of 2017 the residency will culminate in a four week run as part of the New Ohio Mainstage Season. We are unbelievably grateful for this opportunity, and excited for the relationship we are about to build.

This year we continued our practice of hosting Piehole gyms --theatrical workout sessions where we get to meet new artists, performers get to stretch their muscles without being tied to a production, and as an ensemble we get to work out ideas and generate potential content. We are so thankful to the dedicated, game, and endlessly creative artists who joined us for these gyms in 2015: Patrick Harrison, Djaka Souare, Hye Young Chyun, Rachel Wohlander, Jessica Goldschmidt and Emily Hartford. 

We ventured into a lot of hitherto uncharted water in 2015. In trying to become fluent in everything from legalese to exposure, we benefitted from the advice and support of several Piehole mentors. We are so thankful for the time, wisdom and kindness they've shared with us:  Jonah Bokaer, Siobhan Burke, Linda Chapman, Roger T Danforth, Peter Durwood, Melanie Joseph, Andrew Kircher, Mimi Lien, Robert Lyons, Kristin Marting, Jim Nicola, Gabriel Shanks, Risa Shoup and Ariana Smart Truman.

​And a great big "thanks" to the peers who have come to our work-in-progress showings and offered us their time as well as their thoughtful, invaluable feedback. Thank you Elena Araoz, Jeff Augustine, Max Bean, Lileana Blain-Cruz, Oona Curley, Tanya Desai, Jeff Doyle, Sanaz Ghajarrahimi, Lucy Kaminsky, Mark Lanham, Martyna Majok, Aaron Malkin, Brian Otano, Jonathan Payne, Allen Riley, Miriam Rosalky, Eva von Schweinitz, Amy Shire, Efrem Sidi-Shire, Rachel Silverman, Kathryn Wallem, Will Walsh and Nicole Watson. 

Thank you to Miranda Thomas, Charlie Shackleton, Ann, Gertrude and Glenn Suokko for hosting us in the dreamy foothills of Vermont --and for literally giving us shelter from the storm. The space you gave us in your homes (and in the mill) allowed us to start development on our first **Brand New** show in 2.5 years, and the kindness and artistic dedication you demonstrate has been a source of endless inspiration. More on this incredible experience here. 

And finally, thank you to our families and loved ones. You are the ones who make all this possible. Thank you for everything!

Our basements, closets, corners, and drawers are filled to capacity. 8 years of accumulated cardboard, wooden frames and platforms, puppets and embroidery hoops - with many of us having moved from apartment to apartment with an unbelievable pile of painted illustration board in tow - all of which is nothing compared to the effort of coordinating the creation of all these wandering objects. We've always been into "stuff," but where to house, assemble, and play with it has always been a struggle. Rehearsal spaces are wonderful, but they serve so many different people - storing a village of small cardboard houses in any of them would be, well, rude. For years we've fantasized - what if we had a dedicated space where we could have meetings, get on our feet and rehearse, AND store and create the objects that are so important to our work? We came close, once, when Jeff had a small shared studio space in 2009. We couldn't really rehearse there (which didn't stop us from trying) but we could craft and talk. Ever since that taste of the dream we've wanted more. Here are Tara and Allison discussing snacks and dreams on the fire escape of that building, overlooking a pit:

Ah, living and creating in Brooklyn in the late aughts. That's all well and good, but now, finally, we're ready for the big time. Here we are continuing that same conversation on the 30th floor of an office building in Lower Manhattan!

That's right, we've finally made it!! Have we sold out? Cashed in? Gotten involved in a pyramid scheme? No! We are incredibly grateful to announce that we are part of LMCC's 2015/2016 Workspace program. That means that we, along with a diverse community of other artists, are haunting an unused floor of an office building under the guidance of the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council. We have our own studio, space to rehearse, and the tremendous honor of making work alongside (and in conversation with) the other participants in the program. We've already started meeting in our office (and enjoying the power of being among the blessed few who don't have to wear suits in this building):

We'll be here until June - just heading on down to the Financial District to write on the windows with chalk markers and decorate the walls with inspiration (Romantic landscape paintings? Tiger Beat pin-ups? We'll have to see!) If anyone would like to point us towards particular haunted spots in this oldest part of fair Manhatto, we'll be receptive to the advice. In the mean time, we'll be dealing with the emotional implications of getting something we've longed for all these years - the opportunity to unite the disparate parts of our practice in one place. But don't worry - we'll never forget our roots: 

Ah, the recent past. The recent past of two weeks ago; the slightly less but still essentially recent past of a year before that; the comparatively recent past of Hurricane Irene (the beginning of a fearful awakening here in the Northeast); the less recent but still modern past of textile mills in Vermont - I could go on. 

But about what? 

Piehole's (annual?) retreat to Vermont. That's what.  We struck the Hand Foot Fizzle Face set, haphazardly stuffed a car with sleeping bags, snacks, and witch hats, and set off for a week of reflection, research, and mysteries. As is our custom, we were light on the official "planning" side of things.

And we worried about the curiously beautiful decomposition of last year's dead birds - what were we breathing? 

This revisiting of last year's muse raised a lot of questions for us - as did the rain pouring down back at our campsite. The former we'll be exploring for the next year; the latter was solved by a generous offer from a chance encounter. Thanks to the great generosity of Gertrude, Ann, and Glen, Vermont natives and friends of the Shackletons (our hosts for the final leg of the retreat), we stayed in this wonderful witch cabin up in the hills:

Our hosts were kind enough to share bits of their lives with us, both through their work as artists and craftspeople, and also through stories and snapshots running back through the recent past, the not-so-recent past, and the past-past, all intertwined with the history of the mill and the legacies of Woodstock and Bridgewater. We went to a museum to learn more:

So expect some musings about the relationship between captains of industry, environmentalism, and certain kinds of voice-overs. In our open-hearted exhaustion different facts and threads began to oscillate in and out of meaning; every spare moment was devoted to solving puzzles and jumbling them again. That is, aside from the vast expanses of time we spent cooking and eating:

As the week bled into the weekend we entered the warm bosom of the Shackleton homestead, where we gratefully let others take over the cooking. We spent the extra time discovering different spots in the woods and fields to plop down and do a Bernadette Mayer writing exercise, or to bring up a new question about the Ski End and its history (or someone's history, at least). More trips to the Ski End ensued; more chances to walk in the woods and talk with the gathering crowd of artists/people-with-a-creative-practice/right-good-thinkers/adorable dogs.

And so, after one night in a tent, two nights in a magick cabin, and four nights in a barn with approximately 30 other people, we called it a week. A week of hard work that can't be held in anyone's hand; of fewer-than-usual injuries; of worrisome sleepiness, hot dogs, and whiskey. Oh, and the past - and, I guess, the present, of course and...well, I mean you'll see - the future. Our thanks to Wink and Charlie, to Wink's mother who stayed on this plane just long enough to bless the event and whose legacy was felt by all, to Elliot (yes, it was an inside job) and Sophie, to the people who shared their stories with us, and finally to the teens who can't help but build a makeshift skate ramp with a broken tv and a plank of wood in all the abandoned spaces of America. A toast to all. Happy belated 4th of July.

The three slideshows in the blog post represent an attempt to trace down the echoes of the fizzled collaboration between Johns and Beckett: the three fizzles omitted from Foirades/Fizzles, paired with other Johns experiments with the imagery from Untitled (1972) and from his settings of numbers. They remind us that the sense of something amiss generated within Foirades/Fizzles also reverberates outwards, recycled again and again in image and text. Or, as one of the fizzles describes:

"Then the echo is heard, as loud at first as the sound that woke it and repeated sometimes a good score of times, each time a little weaker, no, sometimes louder than the time before, till finally it dies away."

In 2012, we worked tirelessly with a team of artists to explode a collaborative art book by Jasper Johns and Samuel Beckett into performance. The culmination of this attempt was a one-night only eruption hosted by Triple Canopy, where many things broke, not least of all our brains. One of our main collaborators on this piece, composer Lea Bertucci, then moved away from the city, and we moved on from the project. 

Three years later, Lea returned to the city and we decided to pick it up again. With very little record of what we did in 2012, but with average-sized memories, we met up again to re-evaluate our previous approach, and to reconsider the Foirades/Fizzles anew. 

Revisiting the book, we came across the photo of Johns and Beckett which we had seen many times before (the only one I’ve been able to find, PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU KNOW OF ANOTHER!). Although the two impressive figures share a couch, the central focus of the photograph is the space between the two artists, which appears as a massive, unbridgeable gulf. 

The Fizzles are back! Well of course they never left because it is not in their nature to change, but we're here with them again, and things are off to a great start!

Thanks to our new residency at the wonderful NY Drama League, we were able to start testing out the material on willing and able members of the Piehole community. Under the supervision of a disembodied computer voice, we conducted a suite of experiments involving Beckett's 'Fizzles' text fragments alongside a range of stimuli, reactive response prompts, and followed by a sweet, savory and alcoholic refreshment selection. Piehole's LotF was in service of the development of our upcoming project HAND FOOT FIZZLE FACE, @ JACK this June.

felt that "I'm ok, and you're ok"

Thank you. You made New England beautiful.