The annals of cultural history are filled with unlikely pairings: think Bing Crosby and David Bowie duetting on “Little Drummer Boy”, or Orson Welles voicing a planet-eating robot in the original animated Transformers. However, few juxtapositions have been as wonderfully weird as the following:

Martha Graham Cracker.  At the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  This Friday. 

As many of you probably know, the PMA hosts musical acts every Friday night, mostly from the realms of jazz and world music.  This Friday, though, the main hall in Philly's landmark temple to high art will be getting a visit from Philly's tallest and hairiest drag queen.  I think Pablo would approve.  Hide or bring your kids, depending on what sort of kids you have.

For more info, click here.

In honor of Martha's upcoming appearance at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, we're proud to reproduce the most disturbing postcard that Pig Iron has ever issued. Now, THAT's going to stick in your subconscious for a while, no?  

Cast of Welcome to Yuba City, courtesy of Chrissy K Photography

This Wednesday, we awoke to find an unexpectedly early lump of coal in our stocking. Senators John McCain and Tom Coburn issued a report (available here) on 100 purportedly “silly” grants issued by the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act. A grant to Pig Iron administered by the National Endowment for the Arts, earmarked to retain one of our staff positions and to help fund our seven actors' salaries for Welcome to Yuba City, somehow made the cut (it's at #26, for easy scrolling.) Pretty amazing.

Where to begin? We could say that out of every $100 spent through the stimulus package, only two cents were spent on the arts, and that most of us in nonprofit arts organizations who received those federal dollars made them stretch as far as they'd possibly go. We could scratch our heads at the notion that somehow, an exuberantly funny cowboy/clown piece isn't worthy of funding; that its artists aren't working in “real” jobs, aren't paying taxes or mortgages or heating bills this year.

Mostly, we'll just say this: for three weeks in September in Philadelphia, around 200 people per night traveled up to our converted warehouse space at 5th and Fairmount to see Welcome to Yuba City. They ate at local restaurants, had a drink at the Festival Bar, shopped in Northern Liberties. Some folks came from out of town for the Festival and stayed in Philly hotels. They packed themselves into a sold-out house, gawked at Mimi Lien's stupendous set, and doubled over laughing at priceless comic creations like Charlotte Ford's culturally savvy cowgirl or James Sugg's pink-clad speedwalker. By the time Yuba City got around to its astounding, ecstatic ending (which we won't ruin for anyone), our average audience was a clapping-in-time, convulsively-giggling, wonderful mess.

If you want to tell Senators McCain and Coburn that you think that's a good return on the government's investment, now's your chance. Any gift - from $5 to $50,000 - will demonstrate your support for the value of original, unconventional, and thrilling performance, and make a statement to those who think that art (and artists) are inessential in these times. You can click here to make a gift to Pig Iron now.

(Also, if you'd like to give John McCain, Tom Coburn, or your own representative a piece of your mind about this, then hey, we won't be the ones to stop you. Hometown readers can also sign up for the Greater Philadelphia Cultural Alliance advocacy alerts for further updates on arts funding and legislation.)

Your “silly” pals,

Pig Iron

(ed. note: scroll down for the beginning of the interview.)

JF: We ended up moving forward with the postcard that portrays a top-hatted man with a lizard-tail tracing a face in front of him. The final postcard, however, has some noticeable differences from the first sketch. Tell me a little bit about the changes we made and the new ideas that came along in the final stages. 

MB: The initial sketch was much more simple and reserved, like an icon. So I wanted to up the overall tension. The face made by the tail was only meant to be a place holder so I worked on that first. I drew the face in a more challenging position over the figure. The profile was based on John Barrymore. Once the face was resolved, I needed to work on the figure. Something about it had always bothered me. Plus, Pig Iron requested that the figure be “slightly weirder-looking” and to also change the wardrobe a bit. Both comments were perfect. Making things slightly weirder gave it just the right feel. I referenced the show photos for clothing and posture and was impressed by one of the actor's awkward poses, they reminded me of the artist Egon Schiele, especially the hands. Additonally I allowed more texture into the drawing which gave it a more anxious feeling. Finally, Vivian, my wife and design partner, leaned over my shoulder and told me to try out the title as a brain, I didn't like the idea but when I tried it, it worked great. It's funny how some ideas sound great but when you do them they're terrible and other ideas sound corny, but when executed well are beautiful.

MB: Pig Iron Theatre's groundbreaking reputation, playful marketing materials and the folks I worked with gave me license to think more conceptually. It's awesome to work with clients like Pig Iron, that allow you so much creative freedom-the only thing that holds you back is yourself.

MB: We also did the lizard man with watercolors. My 4 year old daughter was painting that day so I just pulled my seat up next to hers and joined in the fun. They have a wonderfully mysterious sense. For weeks afterward my daughter was drawing lizard men in addition to her hearts, star and princesses.

See the final part of the interview here.