 What: EAG’s Grand Bazaar, a flea market raising funds for performers in need
When: Friday, June 12 from 2-7pm and Saturday, June 13 from 11-6pm Where: The Church of the Transfiguration, 1 E. 29th St. 2nd Floor, New York, NY 10016 Press Contact: Paul Bedard, [email protected] The Episcopal Actors’ Guild (EAG) announces its second annual Grand Bazaar scheduled for Friday, June 12th (2pm to 7pm) and Saturday, June 13th (11-7) at the landmarked Church of the Transfiguration (The Little Church) at 1 East 29th Street in Manhattan between Fifth and Madison Avenues. All funds go to EAG’s charitable efforts to aid performers in need. Since 1923, EAG has offered emergency financial assistance to NYC performers facing financial crisis. 100 years later, EAG’s membership and community host regular fundraising events, including this vibrant flea market in the heart of Midtown Manhattan. The event will take place in the Little Church’s historic courtyard and will feature unique pre-owned items for sale including upscale/designer/vintage clothing; theater costumes, books, and memorabilia; art books; fine and costume jewelry; unique decorative items; quality household items including serving pieces, glassware, silver, porcelain, and ceramics; and one-of-a-kind items of interest. Live music and a bake sale will also be a part of the event. In the event of inclement weather, the event will move indoors to the landmarked Church building. Donated goods will be accepted on site:
Tax donation receipts are available from the Episcopal Actors’ Guild, a 501( c)3 organization. Donors can contact [email protected] for more information. “We hosted our first Bazaar in the spring of 2025, and the response was beyond our expectations,” said Karen Lehman Foster, EAG Executive Director. “The event was entirely volunteer-run, and so many generous donors came forward to offer us such extraordinary treasures. It was a memorable experience, and the best part was that it all came together to help actors in need.” +++ The Episcopal Actors’ Guild was established in 1923 and is a charitable organization offering emergency assistance and career support to professional performers “of all faiths and none.” We also host a full calendar of events and fundraisers including concerts, variety shows, play readings, and professional workshops. Learn more at www.actorsguild.org. +++ Directions: The Church of The Transfiguration (The Little Church) is located at 1 EAST 29th STREET, NYC 10016 (midblock between Madison and Fifth, between #3 and #9 East 29th Street). Both the church’s garden and the interior rain-backup spaces are wheelchair accessible. We are NOT the big church on the corner of Fifth Avenue; that's Marble Collegiate. Getting Here: The closest subways are the R/W or 6 at 28th Street or the B/D/F/M or N/Q/R/W at 34th Street/Herald Square. If you are arriving by bus, take the M1, M2, M3, M5, M6, or M7. by JoAnn Yeoman Tongret  Without someone in a tree
Nothing happened here Stephen Sondheim’s favorite song from his remarkable canon was “Someone in a Tree” from “Pacific Overtures.” It’s a memory sung by an old man who, as a small boy, climbed a tree and watched through a window as Commodore Perry and his Japanese counterpart signed the economic earthquake called the Treaty of Kanagawa in 1854. But, for me, it awakened a long forgotten epiphany that makes this song more than just part of a Sondheim score. I can’t recall when the audience wasn’t an indispensable part of my life and my ethos. I too always enjoy being an audience member. While I worked on the house staff at the Brooklyn Academy of Music I had the pleasure of attending a performance of the Beaux Arts Trio. There was a reception afterward and an elderly lady approached the violinist with great enthusiasm. She congratulated him and then added: “You are all so good. I do hope that your little orchestra just grows and grows.” She certainly meant it as a compliment and I know it was taken as such and often recalled. She was, after all, aware enough of her responsibility and connection to the evening’s proceedings to offer encouragement. Without patronage none of the arts would exist for long; especially live stage performance. The individuals in the seats are 50% of any presentation. They bring an energy, an expectation, a tension, and a response that affects every show. Due to the audience, there are no two live performances of any play that are exactly the same. As audience members you have seen the only performance of its kind and you have also affected it. Here’s a marvelous example of audience power from 1953. It’s the opening of Cole Porter’s “Can-Can” and the luminescent Gwen Verdon is playing Claudine –a major dance role. After her first number the audience wouldn’t stop applauding. She was up in her dressing room changing for her next scene and had no idea that the audience had stopped the show cold and would not continue till she took a solo bow. The stage manager ran up the circular staircase, grabbed her in her bathrobe, and brought her back on stage so that the show could continue. In comedy, audience collaboration is especially critical, wherein laughter offers the actor an energy and a rhythmic response to the dialogue. Courtesy of Emeritus Voices  EVA HEINEMANN & STEPHEN KEARLEY REPORT ON
JIM DALE'S AN ACTOR'S NIGHTMARE Episcopal Actors’ Guild Benefit Read this review on Hi! Drama. EVA HEINEMANN: Jim Dale recounts this positively terrifying production of “The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria” by Fernando Arrabal produced at the Old VIc in London for the National Theater headed by Laurence Olivier in 1971. Starring just Mr. Dale and Anthony Hopkins. They were at the mercy of a crazed director, Victor Garcia, who makes Ivo Von Hove seem tame. The unbelievable horrors they went through will make you gasp and laugh so hard you will end up crying. To know the unprepared fiasco they have to present to a live audience and go through with it, was little short of a miracle and a testament to their bravery, and dedication to the show must go on. STEPHEN KEARLEY: Jim Dale’s AN ACTOR’S NIGHTMARE is the kind of evening that reminds you that sometimes theater doesn’t need elaborate sets, a full orchestra, or even a cast of more than one person. Sometimes all you need is a legendary performer, a stool, and a truly unbelievable story. The one man show recounts Dale’s experience working on the 1971 National Theatre production of The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria, a two person play that paired him with a young Sir Anthony Hopkins under the watchful eye of a director who, as the evening makes hilariously clear, may have been completely out of his mind. What unfolds is less a tidy behind the scenes anecdote and more a slow moving theatrical train wreck told by someone who survived it. The performance itself is wonderfully simple. Just Jim Dale, seated beside a small podium with a laptop, talking directly to the audience. Before diving into the nightmare production, he warms us up with stories from earlier in his career. We hear about the moment Sir Laurence Olivier called his house to offer him a position at the National Theatre, a phone call Dale initially assumed was a prank. At one point, convinced someone was pulling his leg, Dale even began mocking the caller with an exaggerated Winston Churchill style voice before the embarrassing realization slowly set in that it actually was Laurence Olivier on the other end of the line. From there the evening becomes a masterclass in storytelling. Dale describes the rehearsal process for The Architect and the Emperor of Assyria as if it were some kind of surreal fever dream. The director spoke through multiple translators, allegedly spent rehearsals fueled by mushrooms and vodka, and insisted on staging ideas that seemed to come from another dimension entirely. At one point he even locked Dale and Hopkins in a dark room while a forklift drove straight at them because, according to him, the actors needed to experience “real terror.” And that was just rehearsal. By the time Dale begins describing the one and only preview performance, the entire audience is already howling. What follows sounds less like a play and more like a bizarre performance art experiment gone wildly off the rails. Blinding lights aimed directly at the audience. Engine noises shaking the walls. Anthony Hopkins descending onto the stage inside a glowing orb. Forklifts, animal hides, explosions, and a birth scene involving what Dale lovingly refers to as a giant blob. And somehow… that was only Act One. Dale tells it all with the precision of someone who has spent decades captivating listeners. His voice alone is worth the price of admission. If you’ve ever listened to one of the many audiobooks he’s narrated, you already know that rich, unmistakable sound. Hearing it live is oddly comforting, like being read a bedtime story by someone who just happens to have worked with Olivier and Hopkins. More importantly, Jim Dale is flat out hilarious. Not politely amusing. Not gently charming. Truly, uncontrollably funny. The kind of funny that sneaks up on you until suddenly you realize you’re laughing so hard your eyes are watering. At several points the entire room was in absolute stitches. What makes the evening so enjoyable isn’t just the absurdity of the story. It’s the way Dale builds it piece by piece, slowly revealing how a production that was supposed to be a prestigious National Theatre event spiraled into chaos. Actors injuring themselves onstage, wardrobes that barely existed, a director who vanished days before opening, and two performers desperately trying to assemble something resembling a show for a paying audience. By the time he reaches the moment when the curtain falls and the audience responds with a bizarre mixture of boos, cheers, and stunned silence, you feel like you’ve lived through the ordeal alongside him. And somehow, decades later, it has become one of the funniest stories imaginable. The entire event also served as a benefit for the Episcopal Actors’ Guild, and the wine and cheese reception following the show was an extra special treat. Jim Dale could probably read his grocery list aloud and hold an audience spellbound. Fortunately for us, he chose to tell this story instead. And judging by the tears of laughter rolling down half the audience’s faces, we were all very grateful he did. |
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The Episcopal Actors' Guild of America, Inc.
1 East 29th Street - New York, NY 10016 - (212) 685-2927 The Episcopal Actors' Guild (est. 1923) provides emergency aid and support to professional performers of all faiths and none who are undergoing financial crisis. We are also dedicated to helping emerging artists advance their careers through scholarships, awards, and performance opportunities. All services are strictly confidential. Review our Privacy Policy. Photography by Ahron R. Foster |
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