Arts & Entertainment
National and local comics
to appear at more bars
as comedy scene expands
By Trevor McArthur
Staff Reporter
After the official opening last
Thursday of Lincoln's Noodles
Comedy Club, the opportunity for
comic situations is on the rise in the
city,
Mark Johnson, general manager of
the Lincoln Spaghetti Works, the
company which owns Noodles, said
he was happy with the opening night
and the response the club had been
getting before thaL
The opening night crowd was only
about twenty people below capacity.
Noodles, located above Spaghetti
Works, at 228 N. 12th St., had three
performances the week before the
club officially opened. Even before
Noodles began advertising, Johnson
said, the crowd was at least half of the
club's capacity of 120.
Apparently the club is a welcome
addition to Lincoln s comedy scene.
Johnson said the response from audi
ence questionnaires is very posi
tive—Lincoln has been needing such
a place, the audience said.
This may be a big boost to a recent
upsurge in the Lincoln comedy scene.
Two years ago there were several
local bars and restaurants presenting
comedy. But then something hap
pened and the generous supply of
humor stopped.
Reynold McMeen, owner and
manager of Dufly’sTavem, at 14120
Sl, said he noticed a sudden end to
Lincoln's stand-up comedy. Club
owners became greedy and Lin
colnites were unwilling to pay much
to see local or regional comics.
“If someone from Lincoln pays S3,
~ See COMEDY on 14
• Susanna Williams/Dally Nobraskan
Collectors exchange barbs
The Nebraska Barbed Wire Collectors Association will hold its annual fall
show at Tuxedo Park in Crete on Oct. 8 and 9.
The free show will be from 9 a.m. to5 p.m. on Saturday, and 10 a.m. to4:30
p.m. on Sunday.
New Brass Guns perform over air
KZUM will sponsor
live broadcast
From Suff Reports
The New Brass Guns, a Lincoln
band, will play a live broadcast on
KZUM 89.3 FM Tuesday night.
They are expected to start at 11
p.m.
According to Bill Stoughton, a
programmer at KZUM, the live
performance of New Brass Guns is
a pre-Fail marathon special to
kick-off the Fall Marathon OcL 2
9.
Stoughton said the live broad
cast is an experiment to see how
live bands work on the air. If this
broadcast is successful, Stoughton
said, there will probably be more
live band coverage.
Stoughton said the station will
be using different audio equipment
in hopes to gel a better sound.
Another Lincoln hand, 13 Night
mares, performed in the KZUM
studios during a live broadcast, but
the sound was not as clear as antici
pated.
Brian Barber, drummer for New
Brass Guns, said the band is ex
cited about the opportunity to play
live on the radio.
“It’s somewhere else to play
and something else to do,” Barber
said.
Other performers have played
live on dinerent radio shows, Bar
ber said. For instance, one pro
grammer had a performer who
sang and played acoustic guitar
live on the air.
“There’s been other, smaller
things,’’ he said. But broadcasting
an entire band live is more compli
cated than more simple perform
ances.
Because of the different set up.
Barber said the band was also a bit
nervous There is more electronic
equipment involved, he said.
New Brass Guns was formed a
year and nine months ago, Barber
said. The group has played in
Kansas City, Mo., Columbia, Mo.,
St. Louis and Omaha. The band has
released one self-produced tape,
and is working on an album.
The other members of New
Brass Guns are Lori Allison,
Doug Hubner and Marty Amsler.
11,. / .iz__i:-^-1
Connie Shaeban/Daity Nebraskan
Marilyn Shea of Lincoln consoles her daughter, Danielle, during Sunday’s “Nutcracker”
auditions.
Nutcracker auditions
By Adam T. Branting
Staff Reporter
Ballet Midwest Dance Co. had 80
openings for dancers for its produc
tion of “The Nutcracker.” During
Sunday’s audition, Mabel Lee Hall
became a sea of black leotards and
pink tights.
More than 300 dancers, ages 6 and
up, all had visions dancing in their
heads, and it wasn’t sugar plums.
THE SIGN-IN
Christmas was the last thing on
these people’s minds. What was more
immediate was primping. Was the
hair pulled back tightly enough into
buns and ponytails? Did the makeup
look all right? Were the batteries of
Dad’s camcorder charged? What
time is Cindy supposed to be audi
tioning? She has to go to the bathroom
NOW?
The younger kids, from 6 lo 8,
were trying out for mice and angels,
and they were tired of waiting. Some
were running around, others were
busy fighting with siblings or Mom.
“If it’s not fun, we’ll leave!” chil
dren threatened.
“My goal is to get out of here as
quickly as possible,” Penny Kunkel,
one of the mothers, said.
Some parents, busy filling out
sign-in cards, seemed to be lost in all
of the mess. “What’s our phone
number?” a flustered father asked his
6-year-old daughter.
“I think we are more nervous than
they are,” Win Barber, one of the
fathers, said. “For them, this is just
another activity.”
The image of the “stage mom”
wasn’t blazingly apparent. Most
parents said that it was their kids who
were “rarin’ to go.”
“I was so surprised when she
wanted to audition ,” Marilyn Shea
said about her daughter. “She’s such a
timid little thing.
For the older k ids, the pressure was
building. Not from Mom and Dad, but
from within. They filled out their own
sign-in cards—they spoke of blisters
and Capezio dance shoes.
The teen-agers weren’t just
stretching to limber up—they were
stretching to show their stuff, as well
as check out the competition. This
audition wasn’t for fun.
“Every time someone walks by,
they might get your shot,” said Kathy
Steineggcr, 16.
Tina Ortmeier, a junior dance/ele
mentary education major at the Uni
versity of Nebraska-Lincoln, had a
philosophy about the audition.
“You can use all the technique and
all the moves, but if it’s not from
inside, they’re not going to see you.
That’s the toughest thing—to let go,
to let them see you,”
Ortmeier said.
THE AUDITIONS
First the six- to eight-year-olds
made their way intoa huge dance hall.
One father called out to his daughter,
“I’ll be wailing in the car.” The girl
looked puzzled “I ’ II be in there for an
hour!”
The children are greeted by a tribu
nal of judges and an older woman in a
leotard. She is Mariane Sanders, a
iviii'tvt piwivjoiuiiui uuiivvi miv ia iiiv
assistant director of Ballet Midwest
“They’re scared. But it takes a lot
of courage to come out here,” she
said. “Dancing requires persever
ance.”
Sanders moved gracefully as she
spoke loudly. Very loudly.
“Everyone to the middle.
Quickly!’
Thirty petrified children dashed to
her. She separates them into groups
and lines. They are no longer groups
of children. They are black leotards
with numbers pinned to their chests.
A quick practice of running quick,
small steps, outstretching the arms
and spinning right and left. Each row
flaunts its stuff in front of judges. The
numbered children do their best.
Number 54 is unsure of right and left.
Most look scared. Only number 45
smiles.
Inside, half of the children that
made the first cut stood proudly in the
middle of the room. The rest sat down
to the side and watched. The chosen
skipped in front of the judges, and the
less fortunate got to go across the
room too.__
See BALLET on 15
