tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51397261467454309262024-03-19T04:23:43.251-07:00Thinking Theater NYCNews and reviews from New York City's off-Broadway and independent theater scene Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger525125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-65231489602894689232024-03-18T15:15:00.000-07:002024-03-18T15:18:31.121-07:00Review: In "Lío," Trouble Rides the Waves to Puerto Rico <h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Lío</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Ian Robles</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Mario Colón</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://teatrocirculo.org/espanol/">Teatro Círculo</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">64 East 4th Street, Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">March 15-31, 2024</h3><div><span id="docs-internal-guid-8c05526d-7fff-cbae-0e4b-29ed1118c5da"><h4 style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Presented in Spanish and English with English supertitles</span></h4><div><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></div></span></div><span id="docs-internal-guid-79aad1f4-7fff-95c3-67da-6b732d2e0fc0"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07fY7oFiPSyVRHLSlEhSR3jFpmHZWZdiJYXIadDYrcgw9lHXV2XKbdmmRXcV3WbaW95psHkMEcatqxbkVwwLn7TObxHF_T0K3kn5e0Po6bXqsyRLd8YJjBtaD50dKKmmRiO-bTflSWJ7KzotuwHW2sdaQvcZ_CyEh60ASzahxxAVxDnb0RTjo9dSUIab0/s1280/Cast-LIO-2024.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07fY7oFiPSyVRHLSlEhSR3jFpmHZWZdiJYXIadDYrcgw9lHXV2XKbdmmRXcV3WbaW95psHkMEcatqxbkVwwLn7TObxHF_T0K3kn5e0Po6bXqsyRLd8YJjBtaD50dKKmmRiO-bTflSWJ7KzotuwHW2sdaQvcZ_CyEh60ASzahxxAVxDnb0RTjo9dSUIab0/w640-h480/Cast-LIO-2024.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Karina Curet, Bryan J. Cortés, and Jorge Sánchez Díaz. Photo by Rubén Darío Cruz</span></td></tr></tbody></table>The opening of Puerto Rican playwright Ian Robles's <i>Lío</i>, making its world premiere as part of bilingual theater company <a href="https://teatrocirculo.org/espanol/">Teatro Círculo's</a> 30th anniversary season, finds its title character laying prone with a long rope, which it transpires is connected to a fishing net, tied around his wrist. This opening image suggests a man in bondage as much as it does a fisherman, and nets, which dominate the set design, continue as a metaphor through this sharp, entrancing, sometimes dreamlike critique of imperialism, which sees Teatro Círculo back at its newly renovated home on East 4th Street. But first, Lío, whose name could be translated as trouble or mess, drags up something from the sea that portends seismic changes both for him and for his island nation.</span><div><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4QG0A8Q27zNFtOwRuahkS7Cx2MKZmPh0k43NG5hT_NcRCrBaQ3orhtzD9NJbHIEvn-KZWnN0UnAzy3dwfBcn4QADNeqp29M9h27vqs_a18et6SRjlnwl30liKEQ6b1gcwHLN-FKTdirMtEWcFr26xrPotRt4-djkZ0hIaIj913CtVnROaJtWozRD3Puc/s1280/Jorge-Sanchez-Diaz-Lio.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4QG0A8Q27zNFtOwRuahkS7Cx2MKZmPh0k43NG5hT_NcRCrBaQ3orhtzD9NJbHIEvn-KZWnN0UnAzy3dwfBcn4QADNeqp29M9h27vqs_a18et6SRjlnwl30liKEQ6b1gcwHLN-FKTdirMtEWcFr26xrPotRt4-djkZ0hIaIj913CtVnROaJtWozRD3Puc/w640-h480/Jorge-Sanchez-Diaz-Lio.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Jorge Sánchez Díaz as Lío. Photo by Rubén Darío Cruz</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span> The year is 1898 when we meet the impoverished Lío (Jorge Sánchez Díaz) and he in turn meets an American marine named Chris (Bryan J. Cortés), who has arrived in Puerto Rico as part of America's campaign against Spain but has become separated from his squad. Despite their difficulties in communicating (Lío does not speak English, and Chris knows about the number and type of Spanish words that one might expect any randomly selected white American to know), Chris takes a liking to Lío and ensures that their paths cross again. Lío's mother, Tere (Karina Curet), is resistant to this development, to put it mildly, but Chris, along with what he represents, isn't going anywhere. The Spanish-American War may be ending, but the American presence in Puerto Rico is far from over, and the play will take us through more of this history, artfully using only these three characters to open onto a much larger scope.</div><div><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBC5pG23-Cm7vqnPRWGsqsXOJvvAJhvriwwjmDdbkx6FZxBXX0sMxOz_7-jmdF6JmklOTF0FkfFkkfMpDC8SWWIMtXeaU0xhHodpNCmAu8OAfkUFwU9aLUBqcobGWew_KPzXJuWgpHuXQQJr_c5041FEWOzdNlLKdTEWn5hJxlIkfoSjMW19NzqLz-9lw/s1280/Bryan-J-Cortes-Chris.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinBC5pG23-Cm7vqnPRWGsqsXOJvvAJhvriwwjmDdbkx6FZxBXX0sMxOz_7-jmdF6JmklOTF0FkfFkkfMpDC8SWWIMtXeaU0xhHodpNCmAu8OAfkUFwU9aLUBqcobGWew_KPzXJuWgpHuXQQJr_c5041FEWOzdNlLKdTEWn5hJxlIkfoSjMW19NzqLz-9lw/w640-h480/Bryan-J-Cortes-Chris.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bryan J. Cortés as Chris. Photo by Rubén Darío Cruz</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span>More than once, when Lío is calling for his (mostly absent, and never seen) father, Chris ends up appearing instead, a confusion that underscores the paternalism of the United States' imperial project. On an individual scale, Chris may, often at least, be trying sincerely to be helpful to Lío and Tere, but good intentions negate neither the paternalism of his own gestures nor the exploitation that Lío undergoes as Puerto Rico's economy falls under the sway of American corporate power. Nor do offers of personal assistance justify the larger imperialist project of which Chris is a part. Meaningfully, when the question is not a proposed personal favor but whether the United States has arrived not merely to liberate Puerto Rico from the Spanish but to grant it independence, Chris falls back on an equivocating version of "it's complicated."</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcKbonq2LUQFSVzVg9IWJKbf9ng1By7vD0USG3EJdxjaZhwgCSw8ft1ZpevvkaJFAoF8uPdE0gII0ht3qrW5E_btrcR_OcpOcfgf6k-pu34HJzmI4qZ1HaoeV33cPQN5LCX3Qpe9tUrV_RY22WK7QjIUstAlGcg_1SAFxNyTAGtvkp_EfkXIuyPoN69TC/s1280/Karina-Curet-Tere.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcKbonq2LUQFSVzVg9IWJKbf9ng1By7vD0USG3EJdxjaZhwgCSw8ft1ZpevvkaJFAoF8uPdE0gII0ht3qrW5E_btrcR_OcpOcfgf6k-pu34HJzmI4qZ1HaoeV33cPQN5LCX3Qpe9tUrV_RY22WK7QjIUstAlGcg_1SAFxNyTAGtvkp_EfkXIuyPoN69TC/w640-h480/Karina-Curet-Tere.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Karina Curet as Tere. Photo by Rubén Darío Cruz</span></td></tr></tbody></table>The production benefits from excellent sound design, from ambient sounds of waves and gunshots and artillery to the intrusion at one point of garishly patriotic American music. The boat prow upon which we first see Lío, cleverly used to stand in at other times for anything from a table to a car, sits atop a painted floor that suggests the entirety of the island, helping to emphasize the wider import of scenes such as those in which Lío and Tere are made to parrot English sentences or a memorably phantasmagorical sequence in which the pair literally internalize imperialism. Cortés as the protean Chris and Curet as the ailing but principled Tere are both impressive, while Sánchez Díaz delivers a marvelous performance as Lío, enhanced by an expressive, emotive physicality.<i> Lío</i> brings us a sometimes funny, always atmospheric encounter with the beginnings of an imperialistic entanglement that remains unresolved to this day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-23038024710865425302024-03-17T12:47:00.000-07:002024-03-17T12:47:51.877-07:00Review: "Orson's Shadow" is a Fantastic Revival about Artistic Revival<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Orson's Shadow</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Austin Pendleton</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Austin Pendleton</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by Crystal Field, Executive Artistic Director of <a href="https://theaterforthenewcity.net/">Theater for the New City</a>, in association with <a href="https://oberontheatre.org/">Oberon Theatre Ensemble</a> and <a href="https://www.strindbergrep.com/">Strindberg Rep</a> at <a href="https://theaterforthenewcity.net/">Theater for the New City</a><a href="https://theaterforthenewcity.net/">heater for the New City</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">155 1st Ave., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">March 14-31, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhym6_DyZapwrZk5n_F_hyaDzwcXtYrwnVmjFEZzj5FQV-eMxtc9DAyCqiORzJpuqMJvDPu8D20CSRZobRbEirKEmaDjrztZpq3E8nZEYLSw9EFgjIdtAYVCs_v8AIFO3WliTTEHG_4oXDnL4rm7OAUfKAxml8zZe6PVg27KN3GP_CFdEqsqIIqWeaQpTpn/s4352/IMG_4232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhym6_DyZapwrZk5n_F_hyaDzwcXtYrwnVmjFEZzj5FQV-eMxtc9DAyCqiORzJpuqMJvDPu8D20CSRZobRbEirKEmaDjrztZpq3E8nZEYLSw9EFgjIdtAYVCs_v8AIFO3WliTTEHG_4oXDnL4rm7OAUfKAxml8zZe6PVg27KN3GP_CFdEqsqIIqWeaQpTpn/w640-h480/IMG_4232.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Patrick Hamilton as Kenneth Tynan, Brad Fryman as Orson Welles. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Orson Welles; Laurence Olivier; Vivian Leigh: they stand as towering figures in the history of stage and screen. <i>Orson's Shadow</i>, from the multitalented Austin Pendleton, himself no less than a theatrical luminary, renders a spellbinding portrait of these stars attempting to navigate their professional and personal lives as living legends in the face of an onrushing future. One might, for example, read the play's title as referring to the long shadow cast by Welles on others and on history but also to the shadow cast by <i>Citizen Kane</i> on everything that Welles did or attempted afterwards. As theater critic and close friend of Welles Ken Tynan (Patrick Hamilton) remarks in the show, "once one is called a living genius, one only exists to disappoint." <i>Orson's Shadow</i> made its world premiere, in an earlier version, in Chicago in 2000, and recorded an impressive run of <a href="https://www.timeout.com/newyork/news/orsons-shadow-is-returning-to-new-york-stage-022724">nearly 350 shows in NYC in 2005</a>; now, in a new production marking <i>Orson</i>'s 25 anniversary, Pendleton himself takes the director's chair, with superlative results.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJYkz193cbCxofh6FSXdcjnR2dzK7ET_X7-vY36XQykGinTi7BkijkQTOo3PpVv3VEu2Jy19VFcvorwSVIjE7hGEFnDSH1tZUWtlWj96sijWaHMsN__U4UDVRgqwLxo1wKreHaL6LCxFoij2CN6SmtZCzZ1l46CJ4DK4BaSuRrHl5pJT7XRPcSR_DD0YYf/s4352/IMG_4385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJYkz193cbCxofh6FSXdcjnR2dzK7ET_X7-vY36XQykGinTi7BkijkQTOo3PpVv3VEu2Jy19VFcvorwSVIjE7hGEFnDSH1tZUWtlWj96sijWaHMsN__U4UDVRgqwLxo1wKreHaL6LCxFoij2CN6SmtZCzZ1l46CJ4DK4BaSuRrHl5pJT7XRPcSR_DD0YYf/w640-h480/IMG_4385.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Natalie Menna as Vivien Leigh, Luke Hofmaier as Sean, the Stage Manager. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Although <i>Orson's Shadow</i> is set in 1960, four years before Bob Dylan released "The Times They Are A-Changin'," that song's admonition to the older generations, stuck on their "old road," to get out of the way of the new certainly resonates. For both Welles (Brad Fryman) and Olivier (Ryan Tramont), their greatest achievements, at least as far as the public is concerned, are firmly in the past, with Olivier wedded to the outmoded acting style and method with which he made his fame and Welles arguably suffering from being too ahead of his time, what the play calls more than once the "modern age." In keeping with this theme, Olivier is even in the process of trading in Leigh (Natalie Menna), his wife of two decades–most remembered for a film a year older than <i>Citizen Kane</i> and embroiled in struggles with manic-depression–for a more contemporary model, Joan Plowright (Kim Taff), who would marry Olivier in 1961 and would continue acting into the 2000s. Even as he romances and works with Plowright, however, Oliver doesn't seem to be able to accept her as a modern actress who embraces the shift to a more spontaneous acting style (and less likable characters).<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh86m9jl7ZjLD5foouqN3h_ImbTaX8eOYdEHHlpQZQnrNlwVHq9YZiAU249RC5nvpMPfurlKdepYZqjGEHqpn4aZLXzMPrv5_4kIcNbblBzbqE7UbLNuO9K_aaAEJ4C98NlIX3SRgaJ1svatz6WMu1XbYzXNUf0j-ciRiUbr0e5tM9MHbIFXOPz17LRYH3/s3640/IMG_4394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3256" data-original-width="3640" height="572" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh86m9jl7ZjLD5foouqN3h_ImbTaX8eOYdEHHlpQZQnrNlwVHq9YZiAU249RC5nvpMPfurlKdepYZqjGEHqpn4aZLXzMPrv5_4kIcNbblBzbqE7UbLNuO9K_aaAEJ4C98NlIX3SRgaJ1svatz6WMu1XbYzXNUf0j-ciRiUbr0e5tM9MHbIFXOPz17LRYH3/w640-h572/IMG_4394.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Kim Taff as Joan Plowright. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><i>Orson's Shadow</i> finds Welles at Dublin's Gaiety Theatre, playing Falstaff in a commercially unsuccessful Shakespeare adaptation that would lead to his 1966 film Chimes at Midnight. Tynan, wishing to lend his friend's career a hand, proposes a plan to have Welles direct Oliver and Plowright in a London production of Eugène Ionesco's 1959 absurdist play<i> Rhinocéros</i>. Welles, though, blames Olivier for his post-1948 exile from Hollywood (though he also claims to be close to readmittance via Universal Studios) and considers the soon-to-be-divorced Leigh a friend who understands him. Questions of responsibility for career trajectory recur in relation to multiple characters, and, of equal importance, among clashes in ego and practice, is the question of whether the incongruity of casting Olivier as Ionesco's modern everyman Bérenger represents for the proposed production a strength or a fatal flaw.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoy0YmG292luD5SSaQOs9p2T04YRn8qA1c1onslVI4zDvnBDVATzOU03H5X2Eb9lPLIMw2QDMmTIWAtydQtvk9MXSx3sOtsD0Y3FMEyWrhJ2ndRhnQXs15ZBLRD5B2q0blwBIbvggYbIooxJYMqXVOFpILIbe_F3oZ5_ai5Apd3odO0dWvNep3RJ2uD9hA/s3424/IMG_4277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3096" data-original-width="3424" height="578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoy0YmG292luD5SSaQOs9p2T04YRn8qA1c1onslVI4zDvnBDVATzOU03H5X2Eb9lPLIMw2QDMmTIWAtydQtvk9MXSx3sOtsD0Y3FMEyWrhJ2ndRhnQXs15ZBLRD5B2q0blwBIbvggYbIooxJYMqXVOFpILIbe_F3oZ5_ai5Apd3odO0dWvNep3RJ2uD9hA/w640-h578/IMG_4277.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Ryan Tramont as Laurence Olivier, Kim Taff as Joan Plowright. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>This production of <i>Orson's Shadow</i>, itself a play concerned with film and theater performance and aesthetics, includes a few fourth-wall-breaking passages (two of which bookend the play and constitute a sort of passing of the torch), a gap in the curtains at the rear that give a peek backstage in symbolic parallel to what the onstage action is engaged in, and a use of the word "Macbeth" that is at first funny and finally borders on chilling. Appropriately for the play's subject(s), these flourishes frame first-rate performances. Fryman infuses the Wellesian bluster that one might expect with sympathetic self-awareness, while Tramont's Olivier, who has his own moments of honest self-assessment, might best be compared to an urbane steamroller. Menna lends an engrossing authenticity to the increasing pressures on Leigh, while Taff deftly blends Plowright's exasperation with and mollification of Olivier with her own strength of character and artistic convictions. Luke Hofmaier has some great comic moments as genial Irish stage manager Sean, whose imperturbability in the execution of his duties does not cancel out his capacity to be a bit starstruck; and Hamilton, never without a cigarette in hand, is superb as Tynan. As much as time may seem to outpace the characters in <i>Orson's Shadow</i>, it positively flies by for its audience.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-51876214932808365832024-03-11T16:39:00.000-07:002024-03-13T12:46:47.488-07:00Review: "Boy My Greatness" Brings Us Inside Shakespeare's Aery of Little Eyases <h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Boy My Greatness</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written and directed by Zoe Senese-Grossberg</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://www.thefirebirdproject.org/">The Firebird Project</a> at <a href="https://hudsonguild.org/">Hudson Guild Theater</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">441 W 26th St., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">March 8-16, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLWXRT4vWFXLNUa1PsghG808FwxJrDNf6q_uaiWx8Wub0alzIZ4dxca8I7obfyfs-7vuW1YX9fOwHsy2acEmtCXFUSw56reESKyk1HAitDxFyQDDmyDQUm455r2CmxfNO0RhP2nVuX3ppjOp6o2mYpApol2kM05d9MGR_PA9ua65qe5WnHgmdn75Q7Zbv/s2592/03-06-2024_IMG_6885.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2592" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLWXRT4vWFXLNUa1PsghG808FwxJrDNf6q_uaiWx8Wub0alzIZ4dxca8I7obfyfs-7vuW1YX9fOwHsy2acEmtCXFUSw56reESKyk1HAitDxFyQDDmyDQUm455r2CmxfNO0RhP2nVuX3ppjOp6o2mYpApol2kM05d9MGR_PA9ua65qe5WnHgmdn75Q7Zbv/w640-h426/03-06-2024_IMG_6885.heic" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">L to R: Leo Lion, Rae Bell, Benny Rendell, and Eli Wassertzug. Photo by Rafal Pustelny.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>In the playwright/director's note to her new play, <i>Boy My Greatness</i>, Zoe Senese-Grossberg makes the perspicacious observation that when we consider the performance practices in the commercial theaters of Shakespeare's England, "the focus seems to be on the absence of women rather than the presence of boys." Perhaps, in part, hindsight and a narrative of historical progress towards ever-greater equality position them as mere placeholders, always already destined to be supplanted by women actors. Boy players have been the subject of much academic scholarship but, ironically, little to no actual theater. <i>Boy My Greatness</i> rectifies this absence in magnificent fashion, sweeping audiences through an engrossing and affecting fusion of tragedy and comedy that never flags throughout its Shakespearean runtime.<div><br /><i>Boy My Greatness</i> comes to us from The Firebird Project, founded in 2013 as a teen-run youth theater, and opens the second season of the Project's adult ensemble Firebird Players. The play takes us to the summer of 1606 at London's Globe Theater (the hangings that adorn an otherwise bare stage perhaps gesture to the painted heavens above the Globe stage in their stylized depiction of the sun, moon, and constellations). The players, members of resident company the King's Men, are preparing to premiere both<i> Antony and Cleopatra</i> and <i>Twelfth Night</i>. Thomas Reade, or Tom (Juli Worth), is set to play Cleopatra, but, at 22 years old, there are rumblings that it may be his final female role, while Henry "Hal" Fletcher (Eli Wassertzug) will star in <i>Twelfth Night</i>, each in line with the types they have played in the past (think Lady Macbeth versus Rosalind). Hal is romantically involved with Henry "Harry" Lawes (Benny Rendell), both of them 17; but here too age threatens disruption to the status quo, specifically on the part of Harry, who has grown much taller than his more delicately framed consort and may be ready to embrace a more "masculine" identity. Into these internal conflicts come two further, external sources of discord. The first is Robert "Robin" Howard (Rae Bell), a supremely confident up and coming 12-year-old willing to sacrifice almost anything for acting. Robin, recruited to the company by John Sharpe (Leo Lion), who oversees the boy players, represents for Tom both a threatening rival and a painful reminder of what once was. The second is Samuel Clark, or Sam (Sophie Falvey), a former boy player turned Puritan anti-theatricalist. And, this being seventeenth-century London, the threat of the plague is never too far away.</div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KL2T8ZLVi6bYVE0irrHmIoniBvaB0sohTvaJbufzMENAjabWTriVEwmvBIfjM5PUtpI5vaO_ucZ78bdhr8-a7ZCWvCJ1wqOo2MNmZc8oOcbCFYQMb7BGLRYspb_YxJO2n7VBt4IykTMlNDoKKJ5KD66Z_DyLVW4gb983J84oH3WnmrqZymogswEgN8iK/s2592/03-06-2024_IMG_6350.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2592" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KL2T8ZLVi6bYVE0irrHmIoniBvaB0sohTvaJbufzMENAjabWTriVEwmvBIfjM5PUtpI5vaO_ucZ78bdhr8-a7ZCWvCJ1wqOo2MNmZc8oOcbCFYQMb7BGLRYspb_YxJO2n7VBt4IykTMlNDoKKJ5KD66Z_DyLVW4gb983J84oH3WnmrqZymogswEgN8iK/w640-h426/03-06-2024_IMG_6350.heic" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">L to R: Eli Wassertzug, Rae Bell, Leo Lion, and Benny Rendell. Photo by Rafal Pustelny.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>"Boy" as a verb, which comes from Cleopatra expressing her disgust at the idea of herself and her lover, Antony, being personated on the stage after her death, speaks to some of the questions around gender (which Judith Butler calls a "stylized repetition of acts through time" in concert with a "stylization of the body") raised by the play and the boys' enactment of the gestures, intonations, postures, gaits, and physical intimacies of "real women." If a contemporary of Shakespeare could complain that impersonating kings and such great men onstage made greatness ridiculous, then what did it, does it, reveal about gender? Beyond gender, what does acting since childhood do to identity? Tom, for instance, seems to have lost a sense of "real" self whether he wants to or not, while Robin openly prefers to substitute the stage for reality. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5aEckNu7MIEt3NvV_rEbj9C1eILOSmOHrOKcFhVq_1rbZR6lgv7r5KaUlTySiZ1sYLiJXQbXIKZB4VqRjPZMOdPDJvmsN8gDvz9xCRCaGmJxwlXNFnrYq-GRvqFNZB-B25UuGsFigx35Im2xykzLs_tDw1T1DyVc3D1e9igPG005FfWvuJpyMKUUPazf/s5184/03-06-2024_IMG_7014.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5aEckNu7MIEt3NvV_rEbj9C1eILOSmOHrOKcFhVq_1rbZR6lgv7r5KaUlTySiZ1sYLiJXQbXIKZB4VqRjPZMOdPDJvmsN8gDvz9xCRCaGmJxwlXNFnrYq-GRvqFNZB-B25UuGsFigx35Im2xykzLs_tDw1T1DyVc3D1e9igPG005FfWvuJpyMKUUPazf/w640-h426/03-06-2024_IMG_7014.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">L to R: Benny Rendell, Sophie Falvey, Rae Bell, Leo Lion, Juli Worth, and Eli Wassertzug. Photo by Rafal Pustelny.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>The play concentrates on Shakespeare's works, though of course the King's Men performed plays by other writers, and it makes effective use of language from his works at numerous points, as in a postmodern take on the prologue and epilogue or a sad, lovely scene in which a conflicted Sharpe reenacts a role from his own time as a boy player (there is also a wordless and joyous gesture to the jigs theorized to have been performed at the end of some early modern productions). If the characters occasionally seem to see Shakespeare–and the concept of stardom–with slightly modern eyes, the play is yet well grounded in the history that it explores–and it's not often one gets an allusion to Phillip Stubbes in contemporary entertainment. The music performed live by Wyatt Camery and Justin Pelofsky provides another early modern note, and there's a very clever take on a balcony scene. The cast is fantastic, whether it's Lion's protective Sharpe having a difficult conversation with Bell's usually charming and sportive Robin about the dangers that can come with patronage, Worth's proud but disquieted Tom confronting Falvey's defiantly damaged Sam over their shared past, or the way in which anger gives way over time to tender melancholy as Wassertzug's Hal negotiates the changes in their relationship with Rendell's sympathetic Harry. Ultimately, Cleopatra need not have worried so much; no squeaking comedians here: <i>Boy My Greatness</i> is filled with the well-tuned voices of beauty and sadness, regret and love–for theater but also for others.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-29795179481356361072024-03-11T12:52:00.000-07:002024-03-11T12:52:20.449-07:00Review: "The Masque of Night" Proves One of The Bard's Most Well-Known Plays Is Not Past Its Dancing Days<h2 style="text-align: left;"> <i>The Masque of Night: A Romeo and Juliet Cabaret</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Music Direction by Flavio Gaete </h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Janina Picard and Craig Bacon</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://www.newplaceplayers.org/">New Place Players </a>at Casa Clara</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">218 East 25th Street, Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">March 8-10, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOOJDca7eEA3ESFBRpXpIR3CcPMD80ljyfy0LspC4PbO9wwqSRaHqq4AiuomQ5kiIs5bskB_drCJEMemzXEzHy3dEuk5yq09VN4gFLQa6ktMPEW2GgbpnZr0JAZaI_VMFla9fTNZWVva464SKRXrqDiLsr0MPnev0S1RLEc7-caGtJWDniil7geAL_RKR/s720/https___cdn.evbuc.com_images_686034989_1272111056253_1_original.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOOJDca7eEA3ESFBRpXpIR3CcPMD80ljyfy0LspC4PbO9wwqSRaHqq4AiuomQ5kiIs5bskB_drCJEMemzXEzHy3dEuk5yq09VN4gFLQa6ktMPEW2GgbpnZr0JAZaI_VMFla9fTNZWVva464SKRXrqDiLsr0MPnev0S1RLEc7-caGtJWDniil7geAL_RKR/w640-h426/https___cdn.evbuc.com_images_686034989_1272111056253_1_original.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Front left: Libby Lindsey and Maximilian Macdonald. Photo courtesy of Kampfire PR</span></td></tr></tbody></table>How to infuse the most well-known of well-known Shakespeare plays with new energy, making the age-old story of star-crossed lovers as fresh and captivating as it was when the audience first encountered it (probably in high school)? The New Place Players’ <i>The</i> M<i>asque of Night</i>, a cabaret of songs (some Elizabethan, mostly contemporary) interspersed with Romeo and Juliet’s most iconic set-pieces, does just that. Running a little over an hour, the production draws on its multi-talented cast to deliver some of the play’s titular characters’ most memorable lines as well as sing, dance, and play instruments.<br /><br />Maximilian Macdonald’s Romeo was the star of the show, embodying the youthful excitement and exuberance of the character to such an extent that he could win over even the most jaded cynic. He worked the small, intimate Casa Clara venue to great effect, engaging the audience as he moved throughout the space. Libby Lindsey as Juliet was especially strong in the tragic scenes in the latter parts of the production, and the chemistry between the young lovers was palpable and winning.<br /><br />Relying on the audience’s prior knowledge of the play’s conflicts and the intricacies of the misfires at the end that lead to the double suicide, the production ran the risk of confusion. Focusing its action solely on Romeo and Juliet, however, whom we know are doomed even if we forget some of the finer details, was effective in allowing the audience to fully engage with these characters. In the end, buying into their love story is all that really matters for the production to be a success.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnVP9eb8e2a-UCTp9txNEwV5pPhWERiugfPCYtNNWmyGB6_CKYgQeC6MD2eJ5VcxjFuu_VhE5Pp0k1fh1yVu2S1AbCdeSN-JS8H98u-k2DyyQEPAMxGWhln2c3ZdilK5n_xUnZXK40HQBaVsG7FmTHBDldwkTEWoel3EN5dliDVWXgamXnQ75sg3HXJ9L/s720/https___cdn.evbuc.com_images_686035109_1272111056253_1_original.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnVP9eb8e2a-UCTp9txNEwV5pPhWERiugfPCYtNNWmyGB6_CKYgQeC6MD2eJ5VcxjFuu_VhE5Pp0k1fh1yVu2S1AbCdeSN-JS8H98u-k2DyyQEPAMxGWhln2c3ZdilK5n_xUnZXK40HQBaVsG7FmTHBDldwkTEWoel3EN5dliDVWXgamXnQ75sg3HXJ9L/w640-h426/https___cdn.evbuc.com_images_686035109_1272111056253_1_original.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo courtesy of Kampfire PR</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Given how streamlined the text is, certain choices were a bit puzzling. Why, for example, leave in Romeo’s obviously racially loaded line that Juliet is like a “rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear”? It is hard to see this as anything other than denigrating blackness when delivered in the context of an all-white cast. Equally, some of the song choices jarred. While it makes sense to turn to Shakespeare’s Sonnets for love lyrics, the use of Sonnet 20 during the wedding night was surprising. The most bluntly homoerotic of the sonnets to a fair youth, in Sonnet 20 the speaker laments his inability to consummate his relationship with the youth because he is “pricked out for women’s pleasure.” Certainly, neither the play nor this production gives any indication that the wedding night is anything other than wholly satisfactory.<div><br /></div><div>Regardless of these choices, the production, with its strong acting and excellent musical performances, was a resounding success. The rain audibly beating down on the roof of Casa Clara, while something that obviously cannot be planned, only enhanced the cozy intimacy of the space and of course the tragedy of the play’s conclusion.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: right;">-Stephanie Pietros</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-4527107130679849422024-03-11T06:27:00.000-07:002024-03-11T07:09:37.263-07:00Review: You'll Be Captivated by the Nice-Guy Gothic of "The Maid and the Mesmerizer"<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>The Maid and the Mesmerizer</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Patricia Lynn</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Jenn Susi</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented at the Jeffrey and Paula Gural Theatre at the <a href="https://www.art-newyork.org/theatres">A.R.T./New York Theatre Spaces</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">502 W. 53rd Street, Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">February 29-March 16, 2024</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">All ticket proceeds from the Wednesday 13 March show will be donated to the <a href="https://www.schoolsconsentproject.com/">Schools Consent Project</a>.</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFIjEd9l8b7VGSM1ramnU0VOGQg44v8iQ6YL65aVnltDQFjj0OKm_IaXoi7cwaS-Q4VKez6B55EJChlc7z6nrYK_m7nSE-E7li-TWigwwY2oAEWDEDpLHheriLdstIhs9oQhROFwQ12EKD6BAaRTDmoNSRY_hMDSdes-AXTVrb4xzdmcSCiIy07-d6eox/s1923/MaidMesmer1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Patrick T. Horn as The Mesmerizer and Patricia Lynn as The Maid" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1923" height="531" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFIjEd9l8b7VGSM1ramnU0VOGQg44v8iQ6YL65aVnltDQFjj0OKm_IaXoi7cwaS-Q4VKez6B55EJChlc7z6nrYK_m7nSE-E7li-TWigwwY2oAEWDEDpLHheriLdstIhs9oQhROFwQ12EKD6BAaRTDmoNSRY_hMDSdes-AXTVrb4xzdmcSCiIy07-d6eox/w640-h531/MaidMesmer1.jpg" title="Patrick T. Horn and Patricia Lynn. Photo by DLW Photography NYC." width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Patrick T. Horn and Patricia Lynn. Photo by DLW Photography NYC.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Language is a contract–we have agreed that letters, words, and sentences mean specific things–and semantics,<i> <a href="https://www.maidandmesmerizer.com/">The Maid and the Mesmerizer</a></i> reminds us, matter. To this end, the title of Patricia Lynn's new play is not simply alliterative: the titular mesmerist's choice to refer to his stage act as mesmerism rather than hypnosis is deliberate. Hypnosis, he acknowledges, can be a scary concept, and as a successful former hypnotherapist and now stage performer, he can manipulate more than just language. <i>The Maid and the Mesmerizer </i>asks us to think about intimacy, manipulation, consent, free will, and the best of intentions as this rich and compelling play follows two characters through a series of cheap hotel rooms across semi-rural middle America and the early stages of a professional relationship that is predicated almost entirely on trust and that becomes sexual, or maybe romantic, as exemplified by their two uses of the word naked.<br /><br />This is not a rom-com, though, and the first meeting between the two characters isn't the meet-cute that it might seem to be. The Mesmerizer (Patrick T. Horn) has been told that his act needs a "lovely assistant," and Patricia Lynn's character, also nameless and identified only as The Maid, is auditioning for the role wearing a sexy maid costume. She has come to the interview with a backstory for her character, a whole host of reasons that she should get the job, and a draft of a contract that, independent of the contract prepared by their mutual manager, dictates the terms of their relationship outside of their time on stage. She gets the job despite, or perhaps because of, the ease with which she can be (not hypnotized but) mesmerized, which gives the Mesmerizer pause, and her initially cathartic but increasingly unpleasant and unwelcome experience of finding herself on the Yorkshire moors when mesmerized or, eventually, asleep. <div><span id="docs-internal-guid-348059b5-7fff-3206-11cd-69629128f15b"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p></span><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuM1eO3i5KMfHax01WKIAM6RyJXC9egqAzXpfxh1UlF1-viCt9YxDcO_9Qu4SzXuHgxjjQIN3pClkqYM0JAjoAvIQodFdNOPI9W16RNk6YZCNII4bsR4H58C1fI8_dB1OEPs0soxheQYFzntbygp6RL89bYj1sFXhiyuMX-i7G35UdCRoWW9fdY5uEIc7H/s2400/MaidMesmer2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2400" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuM1eO3i5KMfHax01WKIAM6RyJXC9egqAzXpfxh1UlF1-viCt9YxDcO_9Qu4SzXuHgxjjQIN3pClkqYM0JAjoAvIQodFdNOPI9W16RNk6YZCNII4bsR4H58C1fI8_dB1OEPs0soxheQYFzntbygp6RL89bYj1sFXhiyuMX-i7G35UdCRoWW9fdY5uEIc7H/w640-h426/MaidMesmer2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Patrick T. Horn and Patricia Lynn. Photo by DLW Photography NYC.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>On a stage that is half black box theater style–several large, multipurpose wooden cubes that are moved around as needed–and half a very detailed but generic bedroom set, the passage of time between hotel rooms is marked by a narrator (Alejandra Venancio), who could be speaking as one or both of their unconsciouses or as an omniscient but participatory narrator like those in the Victorian novels that the Maid repeatedly says that she hates, as well as by text messages from their manager and snippets of reviews, in addition to the renegotiation of and reflection on their personal contract. Illustrating that getting to know someone has to happen on their terms, that forcing intimate discussions is as much a violation of trust as forcing sexual intimacy, the Maid and the Mesmerizer are charming, albeit broken, people, brought brilliantly to life by Lynn and Horn, and so, when he fails to uphold their contract, that violation of trust is both startling and sad. In keeping with the theme of semantics, he refuses to accept the language that she uses to discuss that betrayal; when she tries to talk about her experience, he insists that she should read his notebook and take on the burden of his feelings instead of processing or acting upon hers. All of this builds up to an ending befitting a 21st century Brontë novel, although we'll leave it to you to discover which Brontë.</span><br /><br />We don't want to say that you should feel compelled to see <i>The Maid and the Mesmerizer</i>, but we'd certainly say that if you freely consented to attend, it would be an excellent decision and extremely well repaid.</div><div> <br /><div style="text-align: right;">-Leah Richards and John R. Ziegler</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-23740365064441535292024-03-10T08:27:00.000-07:002024-03-10T08:27:50.735-07:00News: Christine Stoddard's "A Forest of Ancestral Dreams" on Display at Queens Botanical Garden through March 18th<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9zI-fY5GiKkyTkMWnBmtFPmNTT_pw_9fV5bj0E3n48J6u__9peUZbLiTx1YCvo2-qjfmcXS-vItUFhF5vfuZj3MaJhHUxR69FR120zX8Z3PJ4FaRGGHpPRrxxMSd0uRVdOPjWms5W3bOM-muIVjumaSv46531S9DtJA4qTuWNr-5maRUXSiREk3WQeAL/s1067/unnamed.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1067" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9zI-fY5GiKkyTkMWnBmtFPmNTT_pw_9fV5bj0E3n48J6u__9peUZbLiTx1YCvo2-qjfmcXS-vItUFhF5vfuZj3MaJhHUxR69FR120zX8Z3PJ4FaRGGHpPRrxxMSd0uRVdOPjWms5W3bOM-muIVjumaSv46531S9DtJA4qTuWNr-5maRUXSiREk3WQeAL/w640-h480/unnamed.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo courtesy of Jay Michaels Global Communications</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Vibrant, surreal, and imaginative are the words that best describe the artwork of actor, playwright, and artist Christine Stoddard. Stylistic drawings juxtapose recognizable imagery with abstract backgrounds — or foregrounds. Her Salvadoran mother and her Scottish father’s heritage, coupled with her own life-story, plus images of fairy tales, folklore, and magic, make her work a vast multi-layered story. <br /><br /><div>Stoddard is a prolific figure in the arts these days. She’s appearing in the Queens Short Plays Festival at <a href="https://wordpress.us14.list-manage.com/track/click?u=d762939275895c707478b8494&id=638e02a640&e=035ec02496">The Secret Theatre</a>; her film, <a href="https://wordpress.us14.list-manage.com/track/click?u=d762939275895c707478b8494&id=50dd3135d5&e=035ec02496">Serena’s Gallery</a> is currently on Amazon Prime, and her gallery exhibit is enjoying success at the <a href="https://wordpress.us14.list-manage.com/track/click?u=d762939275895c707478b8494&id=3055052534&e=035ec02496">Queens Botanical Gardens</a> through March 18, 2024. She is also co-host of the YouTube program, <a href="https://wordpress.us14.list-manage.com/track/click?u=d762939275895c707478b8494&id=0bf4000132&e=035ec02496">Don’t Mind If I Don’t</a>, and you can read our review of the 2022 production of her play <i>Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares </i><a href="https://www.thinkingtheaternyc.com/2022/06/review-matrilineal-memories-inform.html">here</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV_luz1A5X0Y9YgMSlkbBWZKoac_UoynHThhSCb0w0QN0ifm1ryVPUTxOpgvtK1bMoLpZhTAFgTX4zndKhwyAiH257N-WihBBagswYbB8PbfTxjaV6CzTv3nbUgfuCCDXRY8d-_nTkTY2Q31_n3vtNdTMei0eKTjtOo2HI7JaYqAfrybPkS0XqtatpyJGP/s1280/unnamed.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV_luz1A5X0Y9YgMSlkbBWZKoac_UoynHThhSCb0w0QN0ifm1ryVPUTxOpgvtK1bMoLpZhTAFgTX4zndKhwyAiH257N-WihBBagswYbB8PbfTxjaV6CzTv3nbUgfuCCDXRY8d-_nTkTY2Q31_n3vtNdTMei0eKTjtOo2HI7JaYqAfrybPkS0XqtatpyJGP/w640-h360/unnamed.png" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />"A Forest of Ancestral Dreams" is showing at Queens Botanical Garden</div><div>43-50 Main Street, Flushing, NY</div><div><a href="mailto:info@queensbotanical.org">info@queensbotanical.org</a> </div><div>718.886.3800<br /> <p><br /></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-42003840843869406792024-03-06T16:05:00.000-08:002024-03-06T16:05:17.356-08:00Review: "The Script in the Closet" Opens Some Locked Doors<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>The Script in the Closet</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written and directed by Joyce Griffen</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://www.lamama.org/">La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club</a> at The Downstairs</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">66 E 4th St., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">March 1-17, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdkyBCetrrVrRZehLb6ve48mEBNMkG-sGTRiyqHN49lTbn86KBOi-xMHv77fnuBP_sgamDdDHDzGMXhzXkfYAWMng4NbGV0w13uDiZR3U6UCaO7-jxjqE743Ix_4KzC1Qs0uNTWfKVFK8n768L_XKtOvtcbBMCnYmYuxrqvrmYsCk0S964sLr0yJ-XMeF/s4352/IMG_4068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdkyBCetrrVrRZehLb6ve48mEBNMkG-sGTRiyqHN49lTbn86KBOi-xMHv77fnuBP_sgamDdDHDzGMXhzXkfYAWMng4NbGV0w13uDiZR3U6UCaO7-jxjqE743Ix_4KzC1Qs0uNTWfKVFK8n768L_XKtOvtcbBMCnYmYuxrqvrmYsCk0S964sLr0yJ-XMeF/w640-h480/IMG_4068.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">FRONT L-R: Kristin Johansen as Valerie, Ruth Kavanagh as jealous wife Lynn. BEHIND: Tom Staggs as Noah. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Some way into <i>The Script in the Close</i>t, a new farce from multidisciplinary artist Joyce Griffen, its characters are reduced to literally stumbling around in the dark, a scene that also serves as a neat metaphor for the misunderstandings and suspicions that have brought them to this point in the play. The titular script in Griffen's farce reveals more about the show's characters than just their writing chops as it takes up numerous narrative threads to be tied off by the close of its two hours.<br /><br />The play opens with actors Micha (Tina Harper) and Robert (Patrick Huang) preparing to perform at the birthday of a child of a wealthy Upper East Side family. Their performance provides both the very funny sight of Robert rehearsing for a dramatic film audition while costumed as a children's cartoon character and, when circumstances conspire to cause Robert to leave his copy of the screenplay behind in the family's linen closet, the inciting incident for the comic misapprehensions to follow. The apartment that Micha and Robert leave so hastily belongs to Lynn (an entertaining Ruth Kavanagh) and Lionel (Mark De Rocco), partners in fiction writing as well as in marriage. The Pulitzer-winning couple employ a domestic laborer, Doris (Carrie Wilder), as well as a live-in childcare worker, Zoey (Charlotte Jones), who cares for their younger son, Jonathan. Zoey, a young woman with her own aspirations to a writing career, finds Robert's incomplete copy of the film script and, believing it to be the work of her employers, decides to try her hand at writing some further pages–using the computer that Lynn and Lionel share. When Lynn finds this work, she mistakenly assumes that her husband, who has always taken against screenwriting, must be cheating on her, in both possible senses, with another writing partner. Increasing the confusion, Lionel does later add to this piece of writing, and he won't be the only one. At times, we hear portions of this evolving script in voiceover, a clever choice for the actors to play off of. Assumptions beget further assumptions, and plots and counterplots for getting even lead everywhere from accessory-based attempts to reignite bedroom sparks to clandestine assignations. <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1deJ7LIj1nD7n7kWcFXrjQXnxITQmEg2ELHNXu-w4DdF7q-Y89AqCyS0oD3-LqFSYC4aJPCaOMnW2vdmPPyy2j88frjyGVbD6IKJFJDSt2j98j49hz9djXPRxq1oQP5kZDjpstHzo9GXvxTeP5IZm65I1Z9d3_Cd16oJ2-sTdSv20_qPCiObWiopgKvH8/s4352/IMG_4027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1deJ7LIj1nD7n7kWcFXrjQXnxITQmEg2ELHNXu-w4DdF7q-Y89AqCyS0oD3-LqFSYC4aJPCaOMnW2vdmPPyy2j88frjyGVbD6IKJFJDSt2j98j49hz9djXPRxq1oQP5kZDjpstHzo9GXvxTeP5IZm65I1Z9d3_Cd16oJ2-sTdSv20_qPCiObWiopgKvH8/w640-h480/IMG_4027.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Charlotte Jones. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>As all of this begins to unfold, Lynn and Lionel's elder son, Carlton (Isaiah Stannard), returns home after having broken up with his girlfriend, Gladys (Jada Delgado, bringing an engaging vitality to the role), only to encounter, at different points, both Zoey and the mysterious manuscript. Valerie (Kristin Johansen), one of the couple's close friends, was, and still is, a proponent of the Gladys-Carlton pairing, at least in part because of Gladys's impressive income relative to her age. Valerie's husband, Noah (Tom Staggs, making an enjoyable display of Noah's hedonistic streak), is less invested in who his friends' son ends up with than in having a good time (one might point out that Valerie has better reason though less inclination to be jealous of her husband than Lynn). Given the couples' intimacy (and sometimes their taste for a good drink), Valerie and Noah too end up drawn, along gender lines, into Lynn and Lionel's misadventures, as, to a lesser degree, does Carlton, further complicating the cascade of comedic consequences.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpu8ZCkJVxXU6NK7qwx3dtebcRMua_Aborc7UjHIRAGAC_yc9fMqNtPK_XruWhRWskdG4zAwnUEfB3Elt92SokRo_wq1iYop4rTFFRC2nxaC6AfyBKwEZzn8aknHNe3ZmCfSSd9qQBRkbXC1x_XnyzDHuCu_L3Lieuu4Wb6NQsxxxyWNSOe2_pQonKuzio/s4352/IMG_4048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpu8ZCkJVxXU6NK7qwx3dtebcRMua_Aborc7UjHIRAGAC_yc9fMqNtPK_XruWhRWskdG4zAwnUEfB3Elt92SokRo_wq1iYop4rTFFRC2nxaC6AfyBKwEZzn8aknHNe3ZmCfSSd9qQBRkbXC1x_XnyzDHuCu_L3Lieuu4Wb6NQsxxxyWNSOe2_pQonKuzio/w640-h480/IMG_4048.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Isaiah Stannard as son, Carlton, and Ruth Kavanagh as jealous wife Lynn. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div>The play incorporates some satire of the wealthy, including the surveillance of domestic labor in the form of an oft-defeated nanny cam, though it is of a rather forgiving variety. The show's primary concern is with jealousy and possessiveness; from Doris's daughter to the central family and friends to even Robert and Micha, jealousy has affected or continues to affect their romantic relationships, a possessiveness to which the collaborative writing that takes place could be seen as antithetical (theater, too, favors collaboration in this way). The overwhelmingly grounded performances help to underscore the serious aspects of such possessiveness, though, at the same time, the production could perhaps lean more heavily into its heightened elements. Whether creativity on the page or in the bedroom, <i>The Script in the Closet </i>proposes that openness and trust will pay the best dividends.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-1028156729845336202024-03-03T10:33:00.000-08:002024-03-03T10:33:01.309-08:00News: Hotsy Totsy Burlesque to Deliver the Spice with a Tribute to "Dune" on March 14th<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjActTPXcaBm3z5y6Dda6pVgWimQu87W3oxfljUoCJ_w7DUSyEHgXBo1V9kirGxkYVOy1yIAy-alkGtZARDX5_2B4OrHhSuOAJt4sFlYf9hyphenhyphentsgL7i6U0uTDKm4OmBEJPdwzZcEoQUHmnP5-S464OfkHclsLSHpg3zLKpo5iJAnxa4N0h_0R79kHYlCmnb/s3000/Hotsy%20Totsy%20DUNE%20Tribute%20Poster%20March%2014%202024.JPEG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjActTPXcaBm3z5y6Dda6pVgWimQu87W3oxfljUoCJ_w7DUSyEHgXBo1V9kirGxkYVOy1yIAy-alkGtZARDX5_2B4OrHhSuOAJt4sFlYf9hyphenhyphentsgL7i6U0uTDKm4OmBEJPdwzZcEoQUHmnP5-S464OfkHclsLSHpg3zLKpo5iJAnxa4N0h_0R79kHYlCmnb/w400-h400/Hotsy%20Totsy%20DUNE%20Tribute%20Poster%20March%2014%202024.JPEG" width="400" /></a></div>The Houses of the Landsraad have folded space to gather to celebrate the handover of Arakkis to the House Atreides. Cherry Pitz has no idea what that means, but for her and the girls at the Home for Wayward Girls and Fallen Women, a paying gig is a paying gig. Even one with knives fit for political backstabbing.<br /><br />On Thursday, March 14th, Hotsy Totsy finally tackles a burlesque tribuite to <i>Dune</i>, the sci-fi epic created by award-winning author Frank Herbert, whose books are the world's best-selling science fiction novels of all time. The 1984 film version, directed by David Lynch, is notoriously camp, and the more recent films, directed and co-written by Denis Villeneuve, are decidedly less camp and more entertaining! All things <i>Dune</i> are certainly deserving of the loving send-up that Hotsy Totsy is planning!<p></p><p>The event will be hosted by Handsome Brad and Cherry Pitz, with acts by Miranda Raven, GoGo Gadget, The Sweet Siren, Rocco Chanel, Luna Lee, gogo by Le Grand Chaton, and Betty Brash acting as Stage Kitten. </p><p>17 years ago, the first Hotsy Totsy Burlesque was staged in New York, and it’s been a fabulous ride! As Hotsy Totsy moves into its 15th year of tributing its favorite movies and TV shows with rhinestones, glitter, and flying underpants, every month you are invited to The Home for Wayward Girls and Fallen Women. The residents of the home need money to keep their hotel open and to buy G-strings and glitter. Sadly, the shows have had their technical difficulties, and in the past, they have had to combat Daleks, Darth Vader, The Borg, zombies, The Ghost of Vincent Price, network censors, evil from other dimensions, and Covid-19. </p>The Hotsy Totsy Burlesque Tribute to <i>Dune </i>will take place at The Slipper Room (167 Orchard Street, NYC) on March 14, 2024. Admission is $25 pre-sold reserved seating. For tickets go to: <a href="http://www.slipperroom.com/">www.slipperroom.com</a> or <a href="https://bit.ly/HotsyDune">bit.ly/HotsyDune</a>. Doors open at 7:00, and the show starts at 8:00. The The Slipper Room is 21+.<p>So, join Hotsy Totsy Burlesque at The Home for Wayward Girls and Fallen Women, where the motto is "We've fallen, we can't get up, and we like it that way!<br /><b><br />UPCOMING SHOWS</b><br /><br />April 11, 2024 - Muppets<br /><br />May 9, 2024 - Star Trek</p><p>Visit <a href="http://www.hotsytotsyburlesque.com/">www.hotsytotsyburlesque.com</a>.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-20820384367035700652024-02-27T11:43:00.000-08:002024-03-09T10:34:33.310-08:00News: "Before the Drugs Kick In" Extends Again, Comes to Theaterlab in March<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNpuzqcFPSMaccxY_3NdikJBz3hpMiRKEpMlYIVOSipkGsYuf8KiIYioGb_nHUiXyuZiy5dMyVn90Qu7O4x2nfluZBpLbBKlHm0oT_FgitJbK02h4NQPXDFeF47Q1v3UP2eUGr5VVWaW6Qeaf4wAGuLI8w-7wFLx3MsDi9mFje2Rgw2wfiq2HLerFbPw4/s1350/unnamed.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNpuzqcFPSMaccxY_3NdikJBz3hpMiRKEpMlYIVOSipkGsYuf8KiIYioGb_nHUiXyuZiy5dMyVn90Qu7O4x2nfluZBpLbBKlHm0oT_FgitJbK02h4NQPXDFeF47Q1v3UP2eUGr5VVWaW6Qeaf4wAGuLI8w-7wFLx3MsDi9mFje2Rgw2wfiq2HLerFbPw4/w320-h400/unnamed.png" width="320" /></a></div>After an amazing run in Edinburgh, 10 performances at UNDER St. Marks, and 15 at the Court Square Theater, Mike Lemme's <i>Before the Drugs Kick In</i>, performed by NYC comedian and actress <a href="http://www.mariadecotis.com/">Maria DeCotis</a>, will be extending for a third time in New York City. </div><br />In <a href="https://www.thinkingtheaternyc.com/2023/12/review-before-drugs-kick-in-may-alter.html">our review of this excellent show</a>, which takes the outward form of a stand-up set, we described it as inviting "us inside the mind of one woman for a riveting, empathetic, and darkly funny exploration of mental health and its (mis)treatments and stigmas, especially where women are concerned; the oppressiveness and isolation of the suburbs; and what Betty Friedan termed the feminine mystique."<br /><br /><i>Before the Drugs Kick In</i> will be coming to <a href="https://theaterlabnyc.com/">Theaterlab </a>in Manhattan for 8 performances starting on Friday, March 15th at 7pm. <br /><br /><b>Run time: </b>70 minutes, no intermission <br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Check out a short clip here:<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/srKoMjOK5is" width="320" youtube-src-id="srKoMjOK5is"></iframe></div><div><div><b>Performances Dates/Times:</b></div><div>Friday, 3/15 – 7pm<br />Saturday, 3/16 – 7pm<br />Sunday, 3/17 – 4pm<br />Friday, 3/22 – 7pm<br />Saturday, 3/23 – 7pm<br />Sunday, 3/24 – 4pm<br />Friday, 3/29 – 7pm<br />Saturday, 3/30 – 7pm<br /> <br /><b>Tickets:</b><br />$25 full price / $15 financial hardship<br /><br />Get your tickets at <a href="https://web.ovationtix.com/trs/pr/1192904">https://web.ovationtix.com/trs/pr/1192904</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-28648878114140133542024-02-23T13:32:00.000-08:002024-02-23T15:20:03.208-08:00Review: "This is not a time of peace" Mounts a Multi-layered Memory Play<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>This is not a time of peace</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Deb Margolin</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Jerry Heymann</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://www.newlighttheaterproject.com/">New Light Theater Project</a> at <a href="https://bfany.org/theatre-row/">Theatre Row</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">410 W 42nd Street, Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">February 20-March 16, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhIRaTix44jzhoeK82ZykTuK28I805vQGh7LilUItE9ZqBbap6mlFj-N0dsis3J8H9b3X7Ntw623M8wZcduPjPRU3CLVl-iukJdj4LJFj5mSnz1Kl7L81jdTRWMizXjX7WbRQ1YuESb-OI25SYqGA08F23If7z_1ezHtcM_MqmeEVtnn5jRv4RJmf4dpy/s5000/41.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhIRaTix44jzhoeK82ZykTuK28I805vQGh7LilUItE9ZqBbap6mlFj-N0dsis3J8H9b3X7Ntw623M8wZcduPjPRU3CLVl-iukJdj4LJFj5mSnz1Kl7L81jdTRWMizXjX7WbRQ1YuESb-OI25SYqGA08F23If7z_1ezHtcM_MqmeEVtnn5jRv4RJmf4dpy/w640-h426/41.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Charlotte Cohn as Alina, Roger Hendricks Simon as Hillel. Photo by Steven Pisano.</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table>The title of Deb Margolin's new play, <i>This is not a time of peace</i>, is spoken twice in the course of the performance, each time in reference to a different era. This doubling not only draws attention to historical correspondences but also evokes the play's emphasis on memory and experience–every part of which, we are told, "is still happening" "somewhere in time"–as fluid and malleable and exceeding boundaries, a conception echoed in the form of the play itself. Based in part on autobiographical connections to Margolin's actual father during the Cold War and making its world premiere at Midtown's Theatre Row, <i>This is not a time of peace </i>sketches parallels between the personal and the political in its compelling rendition of a story at once intimate and with far-reaching resonances.<span id="docs-internal-guid-4591d699-7fff-1962-4901-e10d608486f6"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57-fvaVKG6cWtztcS32TS2X38yPKIeULAcs_YiUsYQ_emYNbr5RhPjjhq2Fb36QcG9hqz13t3xG5HnbUamPqzBcW6SqVvXfYz-iK5TDXc1GSl9kiDCf9U-CNBEi5hC3wrlfAHFUjA9uM-Rxm0nvwC2CKOTcaK_r-GzaZ_vJQIK-zBm5syp8POcPuI2IdJ/s5000/7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57-fvaVKG6cWtztcS32TS2X38yPKIeULAcs_YiUsYQ_emYNbr5RhPjjhq2Fb36QcG9hqz13t3xG5HnbUamPqzBcW6SqVvXfYz-iK5TDXc1GSl9kiDCf9U-CNBEi5hC3wrlfAHFUjA9uM-Rxm0nvwC2CKOTcaK_r-GzaZ_vJQIK-zBm5syp8POcPuI2IdJ/w640-h426/7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Steven Rattazzi as Joseph McCarthy. Photo by Steven Pisano.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>A pair of monologues delivered by professional writer Alina (a spectacular Charlotte Cohn) provide a frame for the play and, taking place in 2020, represent its most contemporaneous portions. The rest of the show looks back, back to when Alina was still married to her gadget-loving husband Moses (Simon Feil) in the early 2000s, and further back to her father Hillel's (Roger Hendricks Simon) encounter with McCarthyism half a century prior. The boundaries among these tangled threads of memory prove less than resilient as the narrative progresses, but one certainty from the outset is that Hillel's past experiences have resulted in passing on what Alina refers to as a kind of "epigenetic" trauma. Hillel, a Jewish scientist with roots in Russia who worked for the U.S. government, lost his security clearance during the national persecution of Communists in the 1950s. But what were the specific circumstances? Was her father in fact a Communist? And did he really cross paths not only with the reprehensible Senator Joseph McCarthy (Steven Rattazzi) but also with storied McCarthy opponent Adolf Berle (Frank Licato)? Where does a Muscovite named Daniil (Richard Hollis) fit in? While Alina can still talk to her elderly father about his past, she commits to unraveling its mysteries and ambiguities.</span><div><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_B0i-wcdcXC7X5uKAbzFcSLQoUZDhlMCQ7NuwcjxQe_JzrPWx4099iBsCwaXt5fqYVsb7_R6bwAPY8R1X31Skb1X7QGWHsqxt_6p9awW-y6TrZhnXrEnUPUGPRVsmXCzHzrfD044MEhzhSKO5SxcE0pJZpysxb92j4VQfrpN9wgwGn9-8bFhn1_XyFTV/s5000/18.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_B0i-wcdcXC7X5uKAbzFcSLQoUZDhlMCQ7NuwcjxQe_JzrPWx4099iBsCwaXt5fqYVsb7_R6bwAPY8R1X31Skb1X7QGWHsqxt_6p9awW-y6TrZhnXrEnUPUGPRVsmXCzHzrfD044MEhzhSKO5SxcE0pJZpysxb92j4VQfrpN9wgwGn9-8bFhn1_XyFTV/w640-h426/18.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Charlotte Cohn as Alina, Simon Feil as Moses. Photo by Steven Pisano.</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span> As she attempts to pin down answers concerning Hillel, whose age-related lapses are an affecting part of Hendricks Simon's multi-dimensional performance, Alina's own domestic life is threatening to come undone. While she loves Moses, or maintains that she does, she has found herself having an affair with poet and novelist Martin (Ken King), about whom she has similarly conflicted feelings, and whose possessive passion and alpha masculinity present a sharp contrast to amiable IT worker Moses. The assertive physicality in scenes between King and Cohn fruitfully complements the sense skillfully created in scenes between Cohn and Feil of a sort of polite marital machine chugging along atop an expanding void of distance between its partners. Throughout, the sound and lighting design is put to subtle, even sparing, but quite effective use to generate unease, suggest confusion, and more, while the set design hints at a mesh of neural pathways as much as it does a network of roots. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPxuv4pAcvuoxlcKIG3YQDcnmys8Z3WiZtYq0zQl30JthgddtU26O7q8Od_XRje5aXX6Pd0tRv7Yx3y1D-3b2JwIGVxe-HmJIP2T1pTH-oYT00NXfwVU_Q-7Si19ZGPzhk7uuLODRNumUm076XDFPVNChYRx-o53szRHRPdaJMxFGRe-Xy7kPMEdWhBW_/s5000/63.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="5000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPxuv4pAcvuoxlcKIG3YQDcnmys8Z3WiZtYq0zQl30JthgddtU26O7q8Od_XRje5aXX6Pd0tRv7Yx3y1D-3b2JwIGVxe-HmJIP2T1pTH-oYT00NXfwVU_Q-7Si19ZGPzhk7uuLODRNumUm076XDFPVNChYRx-o53szRHRPdaJMxFGRe-Xy7kPMEdWhBW_/w640-h426/63.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Ken King as Martin, Charlotte Cohn as Alina. Photo by Steven Pisano.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><i>This is not a time of peace</i> makes clear the consonance between McCarthy's language of internal enemies and the political rhetoric of today ("Communist" has retained its place among those enemy ranks by morphing into the more nebulous "socialist"). Alongside but inextricable from such linkages are its insightful explorations of guilt, betrayal, and fractured senses of belonging, as well as of the strength to do what we can for others/the Othered. Alina says that things only seem to end, and <i>This is not a time of peace</i> can be one of those things for anyone who sees it. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-58239561158445399272024-02-16T11:27:00.000-08:002024-02-16T11:27:21.107-08:00Review: On Site Opera’s "The Immersive Coffee Cantata Experience" a Caffeinated and Joyful Romp<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>The Immersive Coffee Cantata Experience</i></h2><div><h3 style="text-align: left;">Music by Johann Sebastian Bach</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">New English Libretto and orchestration by Geoffrey McDonald</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by On Site Opera at The Lost Draft Coffee Shop</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">398 Broome Street, Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">February 14-24, 2024</h3><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KXJbYPqnw8qGfCcisz4gqSnKmQ3BDdszCm76nkY31Sa848Rvs7_dkm6VBDBH_DrhRHAKBicgkdp7IEmPS_1tmkH0ASlB45N2g3X8n0OKbUiT-xMZN1KZ-wyjIZeETeUCGnz_wChBjS6JjTCEIKSkEZ894iZFC5QKFkpOqVCf56ekHZcflf7xnxfW93cC/s2560/IMG_2750-3-scaled-e1702074565779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1267" data-original-width="2560" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KXJbYPqnw8qGfCcisz4gqSnKmQ3BDdszCm76nkY31Sa848Rvs7_dkm6VBDBH_DrhRHAKBicgkdp7IEmPS_1tmkH0ASlB45N2g3X8n0OKbUiT-xMZN1KZ-wyjIZeETeUCGnz_wChBjS6JjTCEIKSkEZ894iZFC5QKFkpOqVCf56ekHZcflf7xnxfW93cC/w640-h316/IMG_2750-3-scaled-e1702074565779.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Image from osopera.org</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Presenting a new English libretto and orchestration of Bach’s secular cantata BWV 211 <i>Schweigt stille, plaudert nicht</i> (Be still, stop chattering), more commonly known as the Coffee Cantata, On Site Opera’s <i>The Immersive Coffee Cantata Experience</i> was a true delight from beginning to end. Its skillful adaptation to a modern context and outstanding musical performances, like the delicious coffee served throughout the performance, left the audience wanting more.<br /><br />Likely first performed in a coffee house in Leipzig, Germany, Bach’s cantata couples light-hearted jabs at the newly emerging coffee culture of his own time (and its critics) with his characteristically masterful blend of vocal and instrumental music. On Site Opera’s adaptation did justice to the original work while making it thoroughly legible and relevant to a modern audience. The production was staged in a modern café, with the narrator recast as a barista (Bernard Holcomb) who also introduced the coffee tastings served to the audience throughout the show. Dueling father Schlendrian (Philip Cokorinos) and daughter Lieschen (Christine Lyons) worked on an online dating profile together when she finally (but briefly) gave up coffee in order to pursue marriage. Geoffrey McDonald’s English translation was elegant and effective in conveying the text while also fitting seamlessly with Bach’s music, beautifully orchestrated for flue, violin, cello, and guitar. <br /><br />The musical performances truly shone in this production. The instrumentalists (members of the American Modern Ensemble) were a seamless fit in the coffee shop, projecting well without dominating the space. The vocalists acted their roles without sacrificing musicianship, and both text and music were on full display. They used the space to its full advantage, performing behind (and occasionally on) the counter as well as amongst the café tables, interacting with the audience as well as the Lost Draft’s staff, who assisted in serving coffee, throughout the performance. <br /><br />The original libretto’s casual jabs at coffee drinkers and their critics, now performed under a menu of $8 specialty drinks with an audience happily tasting exotic brews, was as relevant, and enjoyable, as ever.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-Stephanie Pietros</div></div><div><p></p></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-52773120491961182242024-02-10T11:51:00.000-08:002024-02-10T11:53:49.053-08:00News: Thirdwing Presents Encore of Acclaimed Disney Unionization Drama "Burbank" <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2F_vd44WG1hULEUfrZ1leM3IW8eN-17b3nUYLZPOHvVf_f4gfeeQf73jhH-kLacFuDzksIjxByIJJKyn2_znCnnAoRVmInKxRVEwCL5rdOGoa0IqNTRH6iUYQnZciN3-LLCFRuzmf8DVCZmLF9riu_dugU-aVlFNXCHjRgyE18ysScjy7HOQgDUyRisJP/s800/unnamed.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2F_vd44WG1hULEUfrZ1leM3IW8eN-17b3nUYLZPOHvVf_f4gfeeQf73jhH-kLacFuDzksIjxByIJJKyn2_znCnnAoRVmInKxRVEwCL5rdOGoa0IqNTRH6iUYQnZciN3-LLCFRuzmf8DVCZmLF9riu_dugU-aVlFNXCHjRgyE18ysScjy7HOQgDUyRisJP/w640-h400/unnamed.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo by Valerie Terranova</span></td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://www.thirdwing.info/">Thirdwing</a>, a hybrid theater company that has been presenting bold new works both live and streaming under a subscription model (like Hulu or Netflix) since January 2020, will present an encore production of its critically acclaimed Disney unionization drama <i>Burbank</i>, by Cameron Darwin Bossert, beginning March 12 at <a href="https://www.thewildproject.org/">the wild project </a>(you can read our review of an earlier production <a href="https://www.thinkingtheaternyc.com/2022/09/review-hey-hey-ho-ho-to-burbank-you.html">here</a>).<div> <br />As part of its push for a new and affordable way to engage theatergoers, Thirdwing won’t be selling regular tickets to <i>Burbank</i>. Instead, Thirdwing members can reserve a complimentary ticket after subscribing to its streaming platform for $4.99, which is the subscription's monthly fee. Membership includes tickets to all live performances and events year-round plus hours of original streaming theatrical and film content.<br /> <br /><i>Burban</i> tells the personal story of a 39-year-old Walt Disney fighting against Art Babbitt, the womanizing genius young animator and creator of Goofy, who led an animator’s strike in 1941. A painter named Betty Ann Dunbar, who by sexist company policy is only allowed to work in the ink and paint department, gets caught in the middle, soon forced to decide if going on strike is worth endangering the closest thing she may ever get to being a paid artist.<br /> <br />Before or after seeing <i>Burbank</i> on stage, members can stream the play's prequel, <i>The Fairest</i>, about the underpaid women who painted <i>Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs</i>. Also now streaming on Thirdwing are hours of episodes based on its highly acclaimed United Nations play series, ground-breaking <i>Female Genius</i> anthology, masterclass sit-down chats with theater greats John Turturro and Danny Burstein, and more.<br /> <br />Thirdwing’s 2024 in-person lineup in NYC includes its popular live reading and wine series <i>Doctors vs. Lawyers</i>, affinity space dramedy <i>Renegade Speakeasy</i>, and this fall’s new play about a 1980s conservative Jewish family reckoning with pop culture, <i>Blood on the Door</i>.<br /> <br />“I was inspired by the 20th-century teleplays on American and British television, which were designed not for the stage but for the small screen,” says Thirdwing founder, Cameron Darwin Bossert. “But I wanted to make live theater as well, and then find a way to bring them together. What you watch at home is different than what you see on stage, but it’s connected. We’re trying to make something expansive and fun, like seeing TV come to life, or bringing the characters of a play home with you after the performance. On occasion Netflix will sponsor a live immersive theatrical experience attached to one of their properties, but I think we’re the only streaming service that actually tells you to get out of the house regularly and connect with other people."<br /> <br /><i>Burbank</i> stars Zachary Speigel, Kelley Lord, and Cameron Darwin Bossert. Directed by Thirdwing, the production features costumes by Yolanda Balaña, sound design by Deeba Montazeri, and scenic and lighting design by Clayton Mack.<br /><br /><i>Burbank</i> runs March 12 - 24, 2024. Performances are Tuesday - Saturday at 7pm and Sunday at 2pm and 7pm. Running time is 80 minutes. The wild project is located at 195 E. 3rd Street between Aves A & B. For more info, visit <a href="http://www.thirdwing.info/">www.thirdwing.info</a>.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-90669176015852215642024-02-06T15:46:00.000-08:002024-02-06T15:46:01.116-08:00Review: "The Good Soldier Švejk" Marches to the Tune of Some Great Puppeteers<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>The Good Soldier Švejk and His Fortunes in the First World War</i></h2><h3>Adapted and directed by Vít Hořejš</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Based on the novel by Jaroslav Hašek</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://theaterforthenewcity.net/">Theater for the New City</a>, produced in cooperation with <a href="https://gohproductions.org/">GOH Productions</a>, at <a href="https://theaterforthenewcity.net/">Theater for the New City</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">155 First Ave., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">February 1-18, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w_TPo69OvgEk7u0U28di-q5-0Ef5udMWcvN4kMkG6TXe4Bzb7ACcStp1aMWPE5C-RIMixfJ3i3GCRTyprl5vjWuX2CJj0f0Qp_r1oMbK_A6u_iDM66DzlHbcG1ONOMKVHZVMfp6FzZ5aTIOcwpK1ZIJD-mly3N1eHzaHc7GbMJ07U4aVKlBnwXjBONXj/s4352/IMG_3234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6w_TPo69OvgEk7u0U28di-q5-0Ef5udMWcvN4kMkG6TXe4Bzb7ACcStp1aMWPE5C-RIMixfJ3i3GCRTyprl5vjWuX2CJj0f0Qp_r1oMbK_A6u_iDM66DzlHbcG1ONOMKVHZVMfp6FzZ5aTIOcwpK1ZIJD-mly3N1eHzaHc7GbMJ07U4aVKlBnwXjBONXj/w640-h480/IMG_3234.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Michelle Beshaw, Deborah Beshaw, Rocco George. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span id="docs-internal-guid-925ce22b-7fff-a905-92d2-870ca959fe89"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Published between 1921 and 1923, Czech writer Jaroslav Hašek's unfinished, multivolume satirical novel<i> The Good Soldier Švejk and His Fortunes in the World War</i>, commonly shortened to<i> The Good Soldier Švejk</i>, holds the distinction of being the most translated novel in Czech literature and has had a cultural impact of which its probable Influence on Joseph Heller, author of seminal World War II satire <i>Catch-22</i> (1961), and its definite influence on Bertolt Brecht, who wrote a sequel titled <i>Schweyk in the Second World</i> (1943), represent only two examples. Now, adding a sadly necessary modifier to the title, the <a href="https://czechmarionettes.org/index.html">Czechoslovak-American Marionette Theatre</a> (CAMT) brings its adaptation of this influential work, <i>The Good Soldier Švejk and His Fortunes in the First World War</i>, to the stage. Directed by Prague émigré and CAMT founder Vít Hořejš, the lively, entertaining <i>Good Soldier Švejk</i> presents its everyman protagonist's absurd (mis)adventures through a blend of live actors, marionettes, and, in one section, silhouette shadow puppets. <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTl-ZWDfYQyZHY_4ifrLnrLrpJkRqwoF-l86igkw56HlgwqSRv1cAfuqgo16V4lN6OT0FFstD4UeYZNJPyLPh7t_KNNNsNwuJfuaJJQX-1am2hkh3y3afITFS74ivapNEtGeE-X0ZWrkQXgRfXhQzQy3yClF-MRMdJ90ToRfpHSZRG-0dGOj34tsxjUcGX/s4352/IMG_3296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTl-ZWDfYQyZHY_4ifrLnrLrpJkRqwoF-l86igkw56HlgwqSRv1cAfuqgo16V4lN6OT0FFstD4UeYZNJPyLPh7t_KNNNsNwuJfuaJJQX-1am2hkh3y3afITFS74ivapNEtGeE-X0ZWrkQXgRfXhQzQy3yClF-MRMdJ90ToRfpHSZRG-0dGOj34tsxjUcGX/w640-h480/IMG_3296.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">L to R: Gage Morgan, Michelle Beshaw, Theresa Linnihan, Deborah Beshaw. Photo by Jonathan Slaff</span></div></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></p>Following a bit of humorous metatheater, some of which will gain thematic import later, we are introduced to Švejk as news of Austro-Hungarian Archduke Ferdinand's assassination, the inciting incident of World War I, is spreading. Švejk's reaction in this and the following scene of both affably oblivious blockheadedness (he seemingly first thinks that the assassin's victim is one of two local Ferdinands whom he knows personally) and enthusiastically proclaimed patriotism (he says that he can't wait to serve as cannon fodder for the Austro-Hungarian Emperor), establish the characteristics that will define him throughout the play. Despite his loudly proclaimed desire to fight in a war that he also publicly avows will be won quickly and easily by his side, Švejk keeps being prevented from actually joining up with his regiment. By the end of the second scene, for instance, he has already been arrested (for the first time), along with the innkeeper of the establishment in which he was drinking. Švejk's extremely circuitous journey to the front takes on a picaresque form, and his interactions with representatives of various social institutions–the military, the aristocracy, the medical establishment, the police, the church–provide opportunities to satirize each (Sammy Rivas's turn as a field chaplain is one particularly funny example). Throughout it all, Švejk, his sideline in dog theft an amusing indicator of his low position on the socioeconomic ladder, is most interested in eating, drinking (generally alcohol), and having somewhere to sleep; more than once, he draws others into gustatory activities to his benefit. Although Švejk claims that the military had officially certified him to be an "idiot" and "genuinely feeble-minded," the womanizing lieutenant to whom Švejk is assigned as an orderly articulates a foundational ambiguity in the play when he says to Švejk that he would "like to know whether you were born feeble-minded, or whether you only pretend."</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPcfx9jr-6ieZtu3fqTPoyD1SYdJxM2mImcVSMrpp8BOdw3xwwYrDZ_3ZqaWQUsojM82i9NU20aY2TUD6BHDrlG85QYpJRHPjfajRd0Mad-GMK-gXQhcuJ61LLU_A4X4w-8bzWkWgm9qzy44CsAswLnvcjpT0zEArpgfBlJUSxXso_IFZQ5hDHkoJ7SdEk/s3856/IMG_3207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="3856" height="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPcfx9jr-6ieZtu3fqTPoyD1SYdJxM2mImcVSMrpp8BOdw3xwwYrDZ_3ZqaWQUsojM82i9NU20aY2TUD6BHDrlG85QYpJRHPjfajRd0Mad-GMK-gXQhcuJ61LLU_A4X4w-8bzWkWgm9qzy44CsAswLnvcjpT0zEArpgfBlJUSxXso_IFZQ5hDHkoJ7SdEk/w640-h542/IMG_3207.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Rocco George (as Doctor) and Michelle Beshaw (as Baroness). Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>The latter, of course, would offer an average person an avenue of subversion and resistance in the face of an overwhelming political-military apparatus; and the production cleverly highlights Švejk's everyman status by having nearly everyone in the cast–which consists of Deborah Beshaw-Farrell, Michelle Beshaw, Rocco George, Vít Hořejš, Theresa Linnihan, Gage Morgan, Sammy Rivas, and Ben Watts–play the lead character at some point, each bringing his or her own interpretation to the role. The marionettes brought to life by the actors vary from small enough, like the innkeeper, to fit in a large beer mug, to several feet tall, and a unit of soldiers puppeteered by a single cast member makes an impressive appearance. With some of the smaller marionettes, the actor-puppeteers' costumes almost function simultaneously as backdrops, and the cast draws on various (non-Czech) accents to help characterize and place the various people whom Švejk encounters. While the show is a comedy, and often embraces silliness, the target of its satire is, one might say, deadly serious; and the threat of death, which finally intrudes directly in the play's effective climax, lingers ever on the margins through repeated coffin shapes in the set design and the violent content of cheery-sounding battle songs. While Švejk may be anything but a good soldier, CAMT's adaptation of his story achieves a clear victory.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-78912845807898087812024-02-06T15:31:00.000-08:002024-02-06T15:31:35.306-08:00Review: It's Poetry Against the Pyre in "Drinks with Dead Poets"<h2 style="text-align: left;"> <i>Drinks with Dead Poets</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Adapted by Glyn Maxwell from his novel of the same name</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Attilio Rigotti</h3><h3>Presented by <a href="https://www.phoenixtheatreensemble.org/">Phoenix Theatre Ensemble</a> at <a href="https://www.art-newyork.org/theatres">A.R.T./New York Theatres</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">502 West 53rd St., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">February 2-11, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpcZd_i8Ll3bKQQPxRz7BqaZxBISLXAgOt_63Ffo_M51hvgRm_8Ya1CwL-zk18iNGa5ERSRh6gdvrR8IPBDGBHvhQ2JXVsT4lvUnVVK1bIPYHht4xcb8-aBjswnORpqL_FvxVsUQq6NS1vEF2yzPx_7A6wGxI9TDTo5Gpln1OzDt1w0Hl3F2hm6g5nRhyphenhyphenV/s3640/IMG_3039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2456" data-original-width="3640" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpcZd_i8Ll3bKQQPxRz7BqaZxBISLXAgOt_63Ffo_M51hvgRm_8Ya1CwL-zk18iNGa5ERSRh6gdvrR8IPBDGBHvhQ2JXVsT4lvUnVVK1bIPYHht4xcb8-aBjswnORpqL_FvxVsUQq6NS1vEF2yzPx_7A6wGxI9TDTo5Gpln1OzDt1w0Hl3F2hm6g5nRhyphenhyphenV/w640-h432/IMG_3039.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Elise Stone as Ashling, John Lenartz as Max, Antonio Edwards Suárez as Zach. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Timely in our current era of book banning, the dystopian world presented in Phoenix Theatre Ensemble’s<i> Drinks with Dead Poets</i>, an adaptation of Glyn Maxwell’s novel of the same name, is both entirely different from and eerily similar to our own. Set in the pub on the Hudson River in Nyack, NY, where it was originally performed, the play shows us traveler Max’s (John Lenartz) encounters with barkeepers Ashling (Elise Stone) and Zack (Antonio Edwards Suárez), who represent two classes of people, the Rags and the Flags respectively, in this parallel universe where books are blacked out and buried. The Rags are fettered women who are not just complicit in the new world order that the Flags have instituted, but actively participate in the destruction of books and the perpetuation of the lie that the ropes that bind them are beautiful colored ribbons.<br /><br />While the play’s suggestions regarding the slippery slope of current efforts at book banning are obvious, the more notable commentary lies elsewhere. The Rags’ active participation in practices with which they clearly disagree reveals the dangers of compromise going too far, the problem with sacrificing what’s truly important in the name of “just getting along.” In our current polarized and seemingly uncivil society, compromise and civility might seem admirable, but the example of the Rags suggests the dangers of sacrificing true democratic values in the process.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ca7LRtuNFhJnx7WsSVZ0ztzRUvVGdZECh1DTergHzeFPUL6bYcj0u_doWmqtjxmGk7HO07yUQeRTKkHFx2ZV_o0kI7Qrh7bTMTnxB0yVjOCR-u9iCy1uEJIiytNmoRI_sl-0R9AHcW70E2_aIU5MZXEUxqSd__6de9dTDoBETVwAWOjRrtVtntXDY20e/s4352/IMG_3106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4352" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ca7LRtuNFhJnx7WsSVZ0ztzRUvVGdZECh1DTergHzeFPUL6bYcj0u_doWmqtjxmGk7HO07yUQeRTKkHFx2ZV_o0kI7Qrh7bTMTnxB0yVjOCR-u9iCy1uEJIiytNmoRI_sl-0R9AHcW70E2_aIU5MZXEUxqSd__6de9dTDoBETVwAWOjRrtVtntXDY20e/w640-h480/IMG_3106.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">John Lenartz as Max. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Additionally, the world of the Rags and Flags is one in which the government works with a speed wholly at odds with the current political climate of stalemate and regular threats of government shutdown. While a speedy and quick-working government might be a fantasy, its horrifying results in the world of the play serve as a reminder of the necessity of checks and balances. Amendments are passed at a dizzying speed, including the one at the heart of the plot of the play involving the burning at the upcoming Liberty Fair of 12 books found in a Mrs. Manitou’s cottage in the woods. <br /><br />Although the book burning occurs off stage, it occasions the interactions with the titular dead poets that comprise most of the play’s action. As the smell of the barbeque fueled by the book burning wafts into the bar, Ashling and Zack alternate falling into trances and channeling the spirits of a range of great American poets from Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson to Native American poet John Rollin Ridge and colonial poet Anne Bradstreet. These performances are undoubtedly the most successful aspect of the production as Stone and Suárez perform across gender and color lines, culminating in a brilliant joint presentation of Walt Whitman and his multitudes.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYeU_rw0GS4PXpgYs9Y-6TfSuI_dlzj5sBii9AkGn5nOtJvF4FVOskbWhwNl4o2wUK8IDuLpTe3j9vPem0XSeaXU2bSKMXGDlUfXDCm-GVBrb2zp_mIVy8J1wgicCQdrxXHkjw9DasTEQq7gH2ko2VplD6Kknr8VpdKeEge3K1O44UegKzey6PBR3fZeR/s3840/IMG_2922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2904" data-original-width="3840" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYeU_rw0GS4PXpgYs9Y-6TfSuI_dlzj5sBii9AkGn5nOtJvF4FVOskbWhwNl4o2wUK8IDuLpTe3j9vPem0XSeaXU2bSKMXGDlUfXDCm-GVBrb2zp_mIVy8J1wgicCQdrxXHkjw9DasTEQq7gH2ko2VplD6Kknr8VpdKeEge3K1O44UegKzey6PBR3fZeR/w640-h484/IMG_2922.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Elise Stone as Ashling. Photo by Jonathan Slaff.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>The world of the play is bleak and thus in some ways functions as an elegy for a world that has passed away, punctuated in key places by an almost eerie rendering of the well-known Shaker song “Tis the Gift to Be Simple.” The simplicity of this world is not a gift. However, it also proffers hope in the form of the children who, we are told, begin to recite poetry as Mrs. Manitou’s books are burned. Banning books of course made them more desirable, and unbeknownst to the Flags, the children have somehow gained access to poetry. <br /><br />The play’s reference to the Brontë sisters at beginning and end initially does not seem to fit with its American setting and focus on American poets but ultimately is more tied to the hope it locates in children than their status as literary greats. The play’s conclusion, in which the traveler Max plays with the toy soldiers he found in his pocket looking for money to settle up his bar tab, sees the traveler channeling the sisters’ imaginary land of Gondal and the toy soldiers they had been gifted that inhabited it. In the end, no amendment can fully destroy the generative power of the imagination, and there is always hope in the next generation.<div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: right;">-Stephanie Pietros</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-31365627390267341032024-02-02T13:41:00.000-08:002024-02-02T13:54:06.781-08:00Review: "Aberdeen" Searches for Some Priceless Advice<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Aberdeen</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written and performed by Cassie Workman</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented at <a href="https://www.sohoplayhouse.com/">SoHo Playhouse</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">15 Vandam Street, Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">January 30-February 11, 2024</h3><span id="docs-internal-guid-6c23fe9f-7fff-9460-0abe-99ed80d9bfdf"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA42lRq3WoEvwfQ0HsuLtgaqDdHBabhNZ3kkAee3SPGF71MCSxy0ovePM4RKDKEWcO9Ydq8h8s7WBukkgqpv3Vfd8_X3Pe-uxl9ks9lR9MetWqywme9z17JtW4kCkHqzDXJmB9v3QVla9JSNiEe-W3pNFaUlhnUwcinw8jSJPwBKmTxM7TMCujcZvRyEvT/s1295/Aberdeen-performer%20Cassie%20Workman-photo%20by%20Brett%20Boardman-web12.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1295" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA42lRq3WoEvwfQ0HsuLtgaqDdHBabhNZ3kkAee3SPGF71MCSxy0ovePM4RKDKEWcO9Ydq8h8s7WBukkgqpv3Vfd8_X3Pe-uxl9ks9lR9MetWqywme9z17JtW4kCkHqzDXJmB9v3QVla9JSNiEe-W3pNFaUlhnUwcinw8jSJPwBKmTxM7TMCujcZvRyEvT/w640-h426/Aberdeen-performer%20Cassie%20Workman-photo%20by%20Brett%20Boardman-web12.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Cassie Workman. Photo by Brett Boardman. </span></td></tr></tbody></table>In early December of 1993, I (Leah) drove from San Antonio to Houston, Texas, to see Nirvana. Rather than bopping around a pit full of frat boys singing along to "Rape Me" without a hint of irony, I chose to worm my way up front, maybe 10 feet from the stage, and I spent most of the show watching Kurt Cobain. At several points during the latter part of the show, we made eye contact. We both loathed the frat boys and arena shows and flower-sniffin, kitty-pettin, baby-kissin corporate rock whores. There were several thousand people in the Astroarena, but he was doing the show for me because we connected. I believed it that night, on the long drive back to San Antonio; I believed it 4 months later on April 8, 1994, and I kind of still believe it today, even though I know better.</span><div><span></span><br /><span></span></div><i>Aberdeen</i>, a poignant solo show packed with striking verbal imagery from award-winning Australian comedian, writer, musician, and performer Cassie Workman, ascribes a similar feeling of closeness to Cobain's fans as a group not long into the show's thunder-and-rain-steeped opening. The sounds of a storm function not only as a pathetic fallacy in tune with the performance's themes but also as part of its evocation of the titular city, Cobain's hometown. This production of<i> Aberdeen</i> is part of the 2024 International Fringe Encore Series, an annual event that showcases emerging artists who show exceptional talent at each season’s fringe festivals. This year's International Fringe Encore Series runs through February 11th at the SoHo Playhouse, and the full schedule is available <a href="https://www.sohoplayhouse.com/ifes-plays.">here</a>. <div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9iWBwNeUWkBSEgtYcpfDVODN-1HfKAJwOVFjnUyw3cjPzC9nFjhjEXAFTHH22FrcODaNkL14WolnskRdDwHUwFOdgPZLHVBm9a9l462tYy40N-uCWe0fxruIDTWBkx_VRIQs7kZat093BdAmoy_MAlmc_pCu6MnpTfGhYSdP04zSquAcmIypPxqw0IBX/s1296/Aberdeen-performer%20Cassie%20Workman-photo%20by%20Jake%20Bush-web12.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1296" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9iWBwNeUWkBSEgtYcpfDVODN-1HfKAJwOVFjnUyw3cjPzC9nFjhjEXAFTHH22FrcODaNkL14WolnskRdDwHUwFOdgPZLHVBm9a9l462tYy40N-uCWe0fxruIDTWBkx_VRIQs7kZat093BdAmoy_MAlmc_pCu6MnpTfGhYSdP04zSquAcmIypPxqw0IBX/w640-h426/Aberdeen-performer%20Cassie%20Workman-photo%20by%20Jake%20Bush-web12.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Cassie Workman. Photo by Jake Bush. </span></td></tr></tbody></table>Workman, as the first-person narrator of the piece (with Cobain–or, more precisely, his ghost–often a "you"), describes Aberdeen, the origin of the man whom she calls both her hero and the voice of a generation, as a depressed former logging community beset by high rates of poverty, addiction, and suicide, a place where even the rain that we hear is ugly and the river flows like a vein of poison. Two years into the development of the project, Workman traveled to the United States "<a href="https://www.sohoplayhouse.com/now-playing/aberdeen">to further research Kurt Cobain’s life</a>" and to visit "<a href="https://www.sohoplayhouse.com/now-playing/aberdeen">the places he lived, and where he died</a>," doubtless helping to shape the show's evocative, textured descriptions. At the same time,<i> Aberdeen </i>is a kind of epic poem composed entirely in rhyming couplets, and fine-grained verisimilitude sits side by side with more heightened, even surreal passages, fitting for that genre as well as for a narrative that involves the narrator time-hopping through Cobain's life in the hope of altering the outcome. Over the course of the show's enthralling hour, however, we find that coming from a broken family is not the only parallel between Workman's narrator and her hero, and the question emerges of who actually needs saving. <br /><br />Depression and suicide, probably unsurprisingly, loom large in<i> Aberdeen</i>, which probes them with sensitive honesty and scintillating artistry. Whether addressing the feelings of betrayal that Cobain's suicide engendered or the tempting clarity that suicide appears to offer someone; remarking on the cultural debt that we owe Courtney Love; or imagining God as a janitor in the drab purgatory of rehab and Aberdeen timber as making up part of the structure in which Cobain died, the expertly crafted show captivates. Changes in the rhythm and lighting and a larger structure of crescendo and decrescendo that echoes the tension and release of music like Cobain's keep the form endlessly interesting and ensure that the audience undergoes an emotional as well as poetic journey. Workman is an immediately gripping storyteller, judiciously mingling moments of levity with the darker subject matter and periodically delivering lines directly to an audience member in the front rows as if imparting something vital, creating a brief yet intimate bond like might occur between fan and performer at a concert. The choice is yours, but (really) don't be late for your chance to experience <i>Aberdeen</i>. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-68476616765005988712024-01-30T11:57:00.000-08:002024-01-30T11:57:41.989-08:00News: Hotsy Totsy Burlesque Pays Tribute to the Ladies of Disney on February 8th at the Slipper Room<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPregvBHrB8hYg9pOgMjNYIpgVxT7E_VaM3ViHq9EhDEpo0ift2NiEtvv3GCvPwnqJkrWQKy7rm96G1wmf9x05BeHxDIbGBLpZuqGe77jimLzUEtmxl8I4vBhnMnzFMT8q4AVEKtgpjH0QSyy7ZKPykWj-bSWaJd-onhABZTRnCf8Z9-6i9NoilKdLwDv/s2048/Perse%20Fanny%20-%20Hotsy%202024%20-%20by%20Jason%20Laboy%20-%201.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1637" data-original-width="2048" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPregvBHrB8hYg9pOgMjNYIpgVxT7E_VaM3ViHq9EhDEpo0ift2NiEtvv3GCvPwnqJkrWQKy7rm96G1wmf9x05BeHxDIbGBLpZuqGe77jimLzUEtmxl8I4vBhnMnzFMT8q4AVEKtgpjH0QSyy7ZKPykWj-bSWaJd-onhABZTRnCf8Z9-6i9NoilKdLwDv/w640-h512/Perse%20Fanny%20-%20Hotsy%202024%20-%20by%20Jason%20Laboy%20-%201.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Persé Fanny. Photo by Jason Laboy.</span> </td></tr></tbody></table>Just in time for Valentine's Day, <a href="http://www.hotsytotsyburlesque.com">Hotsy Totsy Burlesque</a> - in its 15th year of paying tribute to favorite movies and TV shows with rhinestones, glitter, and flying underpants, and winner of Broadway World's “Best Burlesque Show of 2023” - will present its fan-favorite annual tribute to the ladies of Disney. <br /><br />Prince Charming (Handsome Brad) and his wife, the Cherry Godmother, are throwing their annual Bride Finding Ball, this time for Tinkerbell, the original Manic Pixie Dream Girl. But is finding a handsome prince really her idea of happily ever after? <br /><br />The show will take place at The Slipper Room (167 Orchard Street, NYC), a 21+ venue, on Thursday, February 8, 2024. The performance will be hosted by Cherry Pitz & Handsome Brad, with special guest host Bimini Cricket; acts by Fortune Cookie, Persé Fanny, Betty Brash, and Rosie Cheeks; gogo by Bitsy Brûlée, and stage kitten duties handled by Dutch Baby. Admission is $25 pre-sold reserved seating, and tickets can be purchased at <a href="http://www.slipperroom.com/">www.slipperroom.com</a> or <a href="https://bit.ly/HotsyTotsyDisney">https://bit.ly/HotsyTotsyDisney</a>. \<br /><br />Doors open at 7:00 pm, and the show begins at 8 pm. / Show at 8:00 <br /><br />In addition to this February's Disney tribute, Hotsy Totsy invites you each month to The Home For Wayward Girls and Fallen Women. The residents of the home need money to keep their hotel open and to buy G-strings and glitter. Sadly, the shows have had their technical difficulties, and in the past, they have had to combat Daleks, Darth Vader, The Borg, zombies, the ghost of Vincent Price, network censors, evil from other dimensions, and, most recently, Covid-19. But Hotsy Totsy presses onward, and the house mother,Cherry Pitz, along with her faithful consort Handsome Brad, promise you beautiful, clothing-averse nerds, lots of laughs, spinning tassels and fun! Their upcoming shows include:<br /><br />January 11, 2024 – The Films of Spielberg<br />February 8, 2024 – Disney Princesses <br /> March 14 , 2024 - <i>Dune</i><br />April 11, 2024 - Jim Henson & The Muppets <br />May 9, 2024 - <i>Star Trek</i><br />June 13, 2024 - Video Games<br />July 11, 2024 - Super Heroes <br />Aug 8th - Anime & Manga<br />Sept 12, 2024 - <i>Doctor Who</i><br />October 10, 2024 - <i>Scooby Doo</i> & <i>Supernatural</i> Mashup<br />November 14, 2024 - <i>Our Flag Means Death</i><br />December 12, 2024 - <i>The Star Wars Holiday Special</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-4922844525127356942024-01-28T14:17:00.000-08:002024-01-28T14:18:17.423-08:00Review: "Falling Sideways Off the Edge of the Earth" Offers Some Vertiginous Views of Existence <h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Falling Sideways Off the Edge of the Earth</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Pamela Enz</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by C.C. Kellogg and Avery Wigglesworth</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://theaterforthenewcity.net/">Theater for the New City</a> and Executive Director Crystal Field in co-production with <a href="https://www.invulnerablenothings.com/">Invulnerable Nothings</a> at <a href="https://theaterforthenewcity.net/">Theater for the New City</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">155 1st Ave., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">January 13-28, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvz0LN96nHCjFcZOdjl3XCwubKNSC2_S4_4UBVceUZIXF5yhyTY9UQI2xRPicfTjMqg1Kd9QEwivyx1X0oqbJNRgh-lAK46v0ZNiEO8sfqH0jtM-awb8Wn0yZ4fu968vqXuqCGjN99QHJK4O20oJMog3ycGVbOZYheaeK9Xsp6wrzrbWKU0h7-iAU9zDY/s6240/DSCF6535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="6240" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvz0LN96nHCjFcZOdjl3XCwubKNSC2_S4_4UBVceUZIXF5yhyTY9UQI2xRPicfTjMqg1Kd9QEwivyx1X0oqbJNRgh-lAK46v0ZNiEO8sfqH0jtM-awb8Wn0yZ4fu968vqXuqCGjN99QHJK4O20oJMog3ycGVbOZYheaeK9Xsp6wrzrbWKU0h7-iAU9zDY/w640-h426/DSCF6535.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Ginna Hoben and Marlon Xavier. Photo by Christian Frederick Stevenson</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Some plays are content to render the "big" metaphysical questions as subtext. <i>Falling Sideways Off the Edge of the Earth</i> is not one of those plays. From playwright Pamela Enz, who has described herself as a "hybrid theatrical collagist," <i>Falling Sideways Off the Edge of the Earth</i> comes at the big questions straight on and from multiple angles, foregrounding interrogations of sexuality, death, religion, the natures of humanity and the universe, and more in a poetic tissue of voices and viewpoints dense with both ontological inquiry and memorably crafted lines. This production demands the audience's attention from its opening moments, drawing spectators inexorably into and through the swirling liminality which it creates for its characters.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVmuTCsXg8IGO4hJ2dNEGD7tDBkAEwaOksRHIHotqboGbvBtSCjiz8kJ7NaByGalDHptI_iE7S-A7AUQxif6otWtwPS5P146a_tqhI5wLAQ10HzILYm57OFsR-MiukQ0KBbv5Vh6xr5WxoL9z2OIAqfkuQUjoU9WAaKef9Bz7q_v5Z2ZQFFA9NlbiROY0E/s6240/DSCF6789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="6240" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVmuTCsXg8IGO4hJ2dNEGD7tDBkAEwaOksRHIHotqboGbvBtSCjiz8kJ7NaByGalDHptI_iE7S-A7AUQxif6otWtwPS5P146a_tqhI5wLAQ10HzILYm57OFsR-MiukQ0KBbv5Vh6xr5WxoL9z2OIAqfkuQUjoU9WAaKef9Bz7q_v5Z2ZQFFA9NlbiROY0E/w640-h426/DSCF6789.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Ana Semedo. Photo by Christian Frederick Stevenson</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Before the lights come up, we hear a heartbeat, a sound that raises various primal associations in the darkness and which continues through much of the play, contributing its constant rhythm (and thematic intersections) to the unique atmosphere which the production establishes. The heartbeat is soon joined by the surprisingly delicate strains of a theremin (played live by Karen Cecilia, who also plays the Vagabond Mystic) and a collage of projected images, including of cell division and a heart, that will also continue, in modulating, rapid sequences, throughout the play before, at the significant points that the heartbeat stops, resolving into an image of a baggage carousel, echoing other circularities within the piece. At the center of the play is Marnie (Ginna Hoben, in an amazing performance, the lodestar of the production), who finds herself and her (literal) baggage in a strange sort of non-place–evoked by set designer Ève Laroche-Joubert, a longtime Enz collaborator through a ladder, a large moveable frame like a glassless standing mirror, and an even larger see-saw platform–and unsure if she is alive or dead, though she is pretty sure she feels alive. That question is complicated by the appearance of Robert (Marlon Xavier), whom she is much more sure is already dead. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhh-MjvPjHu9Qwjtrsy2R_-f1DSf16s36-u-vpAvs6oLTR7LCs_UUj8PUSPxWa7chbwIAcclEObXk82luo-P3Xz21CbJ7OvHG_VrAunrWrCb__DzDjLnLbn-6JrCvYPTT-qgXnentEzMeM0XBZf_qb7TBR_x-SmCK6-M7NdRXRmJuxt05VJfSoYB1VaFg/s6240/DSCF6669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="6240" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhh-MjvPjHu9Qwjtrsy2R_-f1DSf16s36-u-vpAvs6oLTR7LCs_UUj8PUSPxWa7chbwIAcclEObXk82luo-P3Xz21CbJ7OvHG_VrAunrWrCb__DzDjLnLbn-6JrCvYPTT-qgXnentEzMeM0XBZf_qb7TBR_x-SmCK6-M7NdRXRmJuxt05VJfSoYB1VaFg/w640-h426/DSCF6669.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ginna Hoben and Violet Savage. Photo by Christian Frederick Stevenson</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div>Amongst discussion of everything from Robert's sexual behavior(s) to whether Marnie standing naked in a window constituted a prayer, the play divulges fragments of (their) lives and deaths, including by violence and accident, some that can be pieced together (although assembling some definitive linear narrative is in no way the point here) and some that discretely add to the production's larger tapestry. The relationship between sexuality and religion forms an important strand in the play's thought–in fact, before we meet Robert, and even just before we meet Marnie, we have already encountered the Virgin Bride (Ana Semedo), a model of religious rectitude (except for moments when she represents liberation from that mode of being). Marnie takes an overwhelmingly critical stance vis-à-vis religion's prohibition of (especially women's) pleasure (and by extension agency) and its weaponization of guilt and shame. Providing another contrapuntal voice is the Vagabond Mystic, who sees no boundary between the scientific–particle physics, to take one example–and the transcendental. Periodically, too, The Voice from Beyond (Bobe Jaffe) emanates from an antique radio, sharing news of death, near death, and post-death experiences, most amusingly odd (such as a corpse being the victim of a shooting while in its own coffin) but some nakedly tragic. And we haven't even yet mentioned Annie, daughter to Marnie, played with equal aplomb in both her college-age and younger, puppet versions by Violet Savage. <span id="docs-internal-guid-4330d18a-7fff-ae78-dfe5-8db2a0f9c143"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPUEjqgauXeIO-ZYOe8UWw_g-6hXbX-nHto-NQlsSZvcSa3xio080pAUq5D1LNuLSqUiVjHJn79Sp1yML0fs_Gj8c2MFva3svQrmv27CgYl06gOIY2CXSJQ5wVeD1TpscbJIps34GinFDwLrDSleFX9WQKFb8CWI_32v4UinlGHRcFBeFFBTNIEykA6gY/s6240/DSCF6893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="6240" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPUEjqgauXeIO-ZYOe8UWw_g-6hXbX-nHto-NQlsSZvcSa3xio080pAUq5D1LNuLSqUiVjHJn79Sp1yML0fs_Gj8c2MFva3svQrmv27CgYl06gOIY2CXSJQ5wVeD1TpscbJIps34GinFDwLrDSleFX9WQKFb8CWI_32v4UinlGHRcFBeFFBTNIEykA6gY/w640-h426/DSCF6893.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">L to R: Marlon Xavier, Violet Savage, Karen Cecilia, Ana Semedo, and Ginna Hoben. Photo by Christian Frederick Stevenson </span> </td></tr></tbody></table>That there is much we haven't even touched on to this point, not least regarding the stories of Annie, Robert, and Marnie, testifies to the engaging depth of this play. The striking uses of physicality and movement by the cast, fitting for the show's concern with embodiment and existence, deserve mention as well. Late in the production, Annie and the images of the screen behind her return us to the play's beginning, creating a circle (after all, even the universe itself may endlessly cycle through its own creation and destruction) but then moving beyond that closed loop and shifting to rather more directly stating a thesis–and to looking explicitly toward humanity's future. <i>Falling Sideways Off the Edge of the Earth </i>leaves us with the well-taken admonition to foster impulse and irregularity, what humanity has that algorithms never can have–emotion of any kind is not some abstract calculation but inextricable from the body and its biology–as well as "being without purpose other than the next breath." One form of being without purpose is of course captured in the word "play," and<i> Falling Sideways Off the Edge of the Earth</i> creates a richly compelling space of play that exemplifies its own recommendations.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-62932190076851256462024-01-27T12:43:00.000-08:002024-01-27T12:43:33.932-08:00Review: "Wounded" Goes Beyond Bone Deep<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Wounded</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Jiggs Burgess</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Del Shores</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by Beard Collins Shores Productions at<a href="https://www.sohoplayhouse.com/"> SoHo Playhouse</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">15 Vandam St., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">January 24-February 11, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlE_gKrbBvAq5G6QGlBef3lxWQwEN3HaZZSoqxaf0m_e3Atx4SMHMoWOPajXQ7GLAurE8XPqyzcr1Uhfp8Ojn4Uu3diFuhbNBKLDov4stRj4uzCy4DPreawkgmie9DaGbFGESFkK90FvVOMZmR_kM6ccfROWOwT61D7jg16jkPj8JYJWnGbBloTDJGL8V/s3334/1_my8B2w.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="3334" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlE_gKrbBvAq5G6QGlBef3lxWQwEN3HaZZSoqxaf0m_e3Atx4SMHMoWOPajXQ7GLAurE8XPqyzcr1Uhfp8Ojn4Uu3diFuhbNBKLDov4stRj4uzCy4DPreawkgmie9DaGbFGESFkK90FvVOMZmR_kM6ccfROWOwT61D7jg16jkPj8JYJWnGbBloTDJGL8V/w640-h480/1_my8B2w.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Shaw Jones and Craig Taggart in <i>Wounded</i>. Courtesy of Beard Collins Shores Productions.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span id="docs-internal-guid-538564a7-7fff-134e-34ab-7851e4bfa23c">At one point in <i>Wounded</i>, a mesmerizing two-hander from playwright Jiggs Burgess, a man named Carrol (Craig Taggart) observes that one's roots can shift from providing a sense of protection to holding one back; and, indeed, in this play, the past, tied inseparably to the small hometown to which Carrol and his friend from youth, Robert (Shaw Jones) find themselves having returned to as middle-aged adults, inescapably ensnares the present. Carrol and Robert's reunion gradually and compellingly excavates the ways in which they have been shaped by their past environment as much as by their individual choices, personalities, addictions, and errors, and, in one significant instance, as much by intentional inaction as by any action. This production of <i>Wounded</i> (which the program notes is updated from its initial staging at the Hollywood Fringe Festival yet still condensed) is part of the 2024 International Fringe Encore Series, an annual event that showcases emerging artists who show exceptional talent at each season’s fringe festivals. This year's International Fringe Encore Series runs through February 11th at the SoHo Playhouse, and the full schedule is available <a href="https://www.sohoplayhouse.com/ifes-plays.">here</a>.</span><br /><br />Carrol is a voluble queer man (an identity which he sees as involving more than just being gay) who has named and has conversations with the hummingbirds around his home and a grievance with the neighbors' dog. The kimono and silk pants that he wears for a visit by Robert are complemented by a spread of food appropriate for a hotel buffet. Carrol claims that food–both making and consuming it–is one of his personal crutches. Robert's, drugs and alcohol, are darker and connected to his time in prison. Now both on parole and sober, Robert has ended up living with his parents and helping to care for his father, a situation which he increasingly feels the need to escape and which parallels the more successful Carrol's reasons for returning to the town of Nowhere, Texas (pronounced "Now-Here"). The pair's catching up on such developments soon enough gives way to them delving into their shared past, a process which even early on hints at differing perspectives on these memories. Those differences find an echo in Jones and Taggart's superb performances, which effectively contrast Robert's steady reserve with the talkative and easily flustered Carrol while pointing to further layers which undermine any simple dichotomies. Carrol's behavior sometimes prevents Robert from communicating, moments that Jones at times gives a flavor or frustrated urgency, while occasionally, the way in which Taggart delivers a line, for instance, reveals a glimpse of calculation underlying his garrulousness. As tensions increase and the (largely) friendly façade that each character presents to the other threatens to fracture, the play repeatedly uncovers still deeper interpersonal currents.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVwgLt4TKnzqddhVsuKxoMt9h47_USOdfdOInetIVCpOIOrDISUkZUI9dUZleNQmlJz4Lk74Nf189ZPui09huibX-8f2yWpCFh94Ds0jryMo_-cQs9F-IKllEcIUOSyb_QgYjySne8CXTpITG85D_-2OuhPyxYXWwHgzBRrRE6IksBl1CtcdwnaNgNqR8k/s4032/hxtBWmAA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVwgLt4TKnzqddhVsuKxoMt9h47_USOdfdOInetIVCpOIOrDISUkZUI9dUZleNQmlJz4Lk74Nf189ZPui09huibX-8f2yWpCFh94Ds0jryMo_-cQs9F-IKllEcIUOSyb_QgYjySne8CXTpITG85D_-2OuhPyxYXWwHgzBRrRE6IksBl1CtcdwnaNgNqR8k/w640-h480/hxtBWmAA.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Craig Taggart and </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Shaw Jones in </span><i style="font-size: x-small;">Wounded</i><span style="font-size: x-small;">. Courtesy of Beard Collins Shores Productions.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Some people, <i>Wounded</i> attests, have long memories, especially when it comes to wounds, in whatever sense, that have been inflicted on them. The show demonstrates too that sharing aspects of an identity does not guarantee any kind of solidarity. By turns funny and ferocious and capped with an eruptive climax, <i>Wounded</i> may just linger in the back of your mind the next time you make plans to reconnect with an old, old friend. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-16086503189532154912024-01-22T14:40:00.000-08:002024-01-22T14:44:55.567-08:00Review: "The Greatest Hits Down Route 66" Takes a Trip Through the American 20th Century <h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>The Greatest Hits Down Route 66</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Michael Aguirre </h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Musical arrangements by Grace Yukich and Jennifer C. Dauphinais</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Sarah Norris</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://www.newlighttheaterproject.com/">New Light Theater Project</a> in association with <a href="https://www.calliopestage.com/">Calliope Stage</a> and <a href="https://www.newyorkrep.org/">NewYorkRep</a> at <a href="https://www.59e59.org/">59E59 Theaters</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">59 E 59th St., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">January 13-February 18, 2024</h3><span id="docs-internal-guid-0c59ccb9-7fff-c893-1202-ae622b4dd80c"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoW_xaAr1xem3epmmi4thLUMt1TAhTnfeuMBeTFZ01_mI1l1pRoGSMY558AIwoW0VmmxulfkQToZtDihwyUIRVkhFkDwF3wbRthKUicSLEfZFu1ZQ_DfJDyckRvi9dzdJ_x3ftooiUr_ETUkU7V1K38BpnrOqkbCqJhXEBzy54ECeVDaXCD_02jB-EHb6/s638/5rq5t9ge.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="638" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoW_xaAr1xem3epmmi4thLUMt1TAhTnfeuMBeTFZ01_mI1l1pRoGSMY558AIwoW0VmmxulfkQToZtDihwyUIRVkhFkDwF3wbRthKUicSLEfZFu1ZQ_DfJDyckRvi9dzdJ_x3ftooiUr_ETUkU7V1K38BpnrOqkbCqJhXEBzy54ECeVDaXCD_02jB-EHb6/w640-h428/5rq5t9ge.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">L to R front: Erika Rolfsrud, Kristoffer Cusick, Joél Acosta. L to R rear: Kleo Mitrokostas, Martin Ortiz, Andy Evan Cohen. Photo by Hunter Canning</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Late in <i>The Greatest Hits Down Route 66</i>, a new play with music from playwright Michael Aguirre, one of the characters brings up the philosophical truism that a person can never step in the same river twice, an observation that applies not only to individual and collective histories but also to performing a song. Just as with live theater, each live performance of a song constitutes a discrete, transitory text (and historical moment); and in the case of folk music, the genre from which the play's titular hits are drawn, it is common for a song itself to take on different forms based on who is performing it. The folk songs in <i>The Greatest Hits Down Route 66</i> come, more specifically, from <i>The American Songbag</i>, a collection of songs and fragments assembled from across the nation by the poet Carl Sandburg, himself a singer and guitarist, and published in 1927. In Aguirre's affecting meditation on family, nation, and self-fashioning, <i>The American Songbag</i> serves as a pivot point among one specific family who take a road trip in 1999 along what remains of the famous Route 66, broader questions of what it means and has meant to be "American," and the river of history as an unceasing flow of erasure and reinvention. <br /><br />Fittingly, the clan at the center of <i>The Greatest Hits Down Route 66</i> both is and is not the archetypal American nuclear family. On the one hand, for example, the family is made up of a heterosexual couple with two kids, a minivan, and a father inflexibly devoted to the itinerary that he has created; but on the other, the kids' paternal grandfather, Miguel, crossed the border from his native Mexico, following Route 66 and settling in the United States permanently, and the family's ability to take a road trip vacation is shadowed by suggestions of economic insecurity, especially in contrast to the children's ostentatiously successful uncle Tim (Joél Acosta). Tim is brother to the family patriarch (Kristoffer Cusick), who goes by Wolf Man for reasons which, it turns out, are probably not what you would think. Wolf Man's (estranged) relationship to Miguel supplies an important motivation for the trip, as well as for questions of identity that Miguel's Mexicanness raises for his grandchildren. Wolf Man's wife (Erika Rolfsrud) is of Polish extraction, a heritage that Wolf Man points out she, unlike him, can take up or ignore as suits her (although one anecdote underscores how she, along with her husband, is nonetheless categorized by class). Their elder son (Martin Ortiz), Luke, is a teen deep in the midst of a rebellious phase of intellectual skepticism fueled by numerous AP courses, while his sensitive younger brother, Michael (Kleo Mitrokostas), referred to by the family as Wee One, identifies himself as the artistic one. <br /></span></span><div><span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMQ7trfs_fUXsDRhbx1qeRaD1ml25zmHzHUoz3is9rkBUQ77_v_CpTna8eRfHStV-xXSNipZU2uR4HmaRB7At6eh3LMcQHU7pi6XyLqRrOCSMOpiNixIajb727lm-JnqOk_zRGJ6n8M07El6MgosEXCmMOR4xw1gL5fTtGp44WSuQvKWuOdNHlk4nA4DoV" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="793" data-original-width="1189" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMQ7trfs_fUXsDRhbx1qeRaD1ml25zmHzHUoz3is9rkBUQ77_v_CpTna8eRfHStV-xXSNipZU2uR4HmaRB7At6eh3LMcQHU7pi6XyLqRrOCSMOpiNixIajb727lm-JnqOk_zRGJ6n8M07El6MgosEXCmMOR4xw1gL5fTtGp44WSuQvKWuOdNHlk4nA4DoV=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">L to R: Erika Rolfsrud, Kleo Mitrokostas, Martin Ortiz, and Kristoffer Cusick. Photo by Hunter Canning</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span><span id="docs-internal-guid-009188f8-7fff-c8da-b669-671964f0d026">In a humorous touch, Wee One is working on his articulation for an audition for his elementary school's production of a Brecht play, and <i>The Greatest Hits Down Route 66</i> includes some elements of Brechtian estrangement itself, most extensively in a narrator (Joél Acosta, as charismatic in this role as he is transparently egoistic as Tim) who acknowledges the play as a play in addition to filling in personal and national histories, as well as in moments such as when an argument between Wolf Man and his elder son metamorphoses into a kind of fractious musical duet. Wolf Man, we learn, only ever took one trip with his own father, who was often absent in the pursuit of work, raising the question of whether this road trip will represent a change in or a repetition of history. We also learn that Wolf Man and Miguel once saw Pete Seeger in concert, one example of how music, including (the white male) Sandburg's collection of folk tunes, figured into Miguel's self-(re)fashioning as an American, as the art form has and does for so many others.</span></div><br />There was less, or less successful, self-definition as a father, one part of the way in which the play presents us with complex characters, including Miguel, people whose imperfections are inextricable from their attempts to figure out who they are to themselves and to others. Those attempts evince a blending of invention and fact in their personal histories which parallels that in America's national histories, an admixture explored as the family visits spots ranging from the Gateway Arch in St. Louis to a Carl's Jr. dining room and parking lot. Projections help us to visualize these stops, showing locations and miles covered, images of signs and monuments, and video of highways. The songs, performed by a live band fronted by gifted vocalist Hannah-Kathryn "HK" Wall, are smartly integrated into the dialogue and action, with the cast often joining in, rather than pausing the narrative. At least some of the selections, which include tunes such as "Sloop John B" (notably, a Bahamian song that made its way to the U.S.), "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain," and "Midnight Special," are diegetically justified by the greatest hits of early American folk CDs that Wolf Man brings to soundtrack the trip. The audience is occasionally encouraged to clap along or participate in a call and response, but more significantly, the play also finds the family enacting, like so many before them, their own, symbolically suggestive adaptation of this musical heritage.<div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhR16vTgygLFB5TEJCYAM4TSeEOCnMBdEOqkavzc4v2hmeVjU5-83wxcM2dhypMVJDOkx_UkynnGLxCd_kRbDR9IHk1WQN879wlDzC_CxRxi-oOrC9QkHHWI1jnEeVYZQnHG723MpHB6YHGcMeBxKMZs3_hNg9l5kALPARmvdgL5yKNX3rDd_Dz46Oxz0Y" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="792" data-original-width="1184" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhR16vTgygLFB5TEJCYAM4TSeEOCnMBdEOqkavzc4v2hmeVjU5-83wxcM2dhypMVJDOkx_UkynnGLxCd_kRbDR9IHk1WQN879wlDzC_CxRxi-oOrC9QkHHWI1jnEeVYZQnHG723MpHB6YHGcMeBxKMZs3_hNg9l5kALPARmvdgL5yKNX3rDd_Dz46Oxz0Y=w640-h428" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">L to R: Martin Ortiz, HK Wall, Andy Evan Cohen, and Joél Acosta. Photo by Hunter Canning</span></td></tr></tbody></table>The cast incarnates the volatile combination of love and friction characteristic of many families (magnified by the close quarters of a road trip) with absorbing genuineness, whether the gruffness in tension with vulnerability of Cusick's Wolf Man; the earnestness and curiosity of Mitrokostas's Wee One; the pragmatic if not always obvious strength of Rolfsrud's mother; or the prickly contrarianism obscuring family feeling of Ortiz's eldest son. On its way to a moving conclusion, <i>The Greatest Hits Down Route 66</i> mingles beauty and melancholy in its reflection of life as a member of a family and of a nation, an ever-evolving present bookended by a checkered past and uncertain future.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-42563110074737106852024-01-20T13:49:00.000-08:002024-01-20T13:58:22.315-08:00Review: New Location, Same Excellence for the 15th The Fire This Time Festival<h2 style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.firethistimefestival.com/">The Fire This Time Festival</a>: Season 15: Ten-Minute Plays</h2><h3 style="text-align: left;"><i>Ethel & Ethel</i>, by Joël René Scoville; <i>Mamas & Papas</i>, by Kamilah Bush; <i>What's Love Got to Do With It?</i>, by LeeLee Jackson; <i>Why Jamira Gotta Do All Da Werk?</i>, by Nia Akilah Robinson; <i>It's Karen B****!</i>, by Taylor A. Blackman; <i>The Mural</i>, by Monique Pappas-Williams </h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Cezar Williams</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented in collaboration with<a href="https://www.frigid.nyc/"> FRIGID New York</a> at <a href="http://www.thewildproject.org/">the wild project</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">195 E. 3rd St., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">January 15-28, 2024</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg61vcmYTBD9nfdGVPG0GIJOzoUjPwEvB38rHF0gVsmk_RUm8Tp7jIzCV5J7p1DYMP5LqBq24fFO0l_l9bw_14RidYmx6UB0YgC0ufu62eSttGuYJk2PvocMJhLKNePz70W6iKtWSiPNyMAH_48Py9pc30yTi1XUo08s2kl64vqokRr5NX9vXN3kie18e/s4928/Marinda%20Anderson%20and%20Danielle%20Covington.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4928" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg61vcmYTBD9nfdGVPG0GIJOzoUjPwEvB38rHF0gVsmk_RUm8Tp7jIzCV5J7p1DYMP5LqBq24fFO0l_l9bw_14RidYmx6UB0YgC0ufu62eSttGuYJk2PvocMJhLKNePz70W6iKtWSiPNyMAH_48Py9pc30yTi1XUo08s2kl64vqokRr5NX9vXN3kie18e/w640-h424/Marinda%20Anderson%20and%20Danielle%20Covington.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Marinda Anderson and Danielle Covington in <i>Ethel & Ethel</i>. Photo by Garlia Jones</span></td></tr></tbody></table>2024 marks not only the fifteenth year of The Fire This Time Festival, which showcases "early career playwrights of African and African-American descent," but also a move south and east from the festival's longtime home at the Kraine Theater to the wild project, where audiences can experience an exhibition of paintings by multidisciplinary artist <a href="https://www.mosesharper.com/">Moses Harper</a> in the lobby prior to the show (or the festival's fundraiser and screening of its 14th season, recorded by <a href="https://www.allarts.org/schedule/">PBS All ARTS</a>, on the 21st and panel discussion on the 22nd). Among this year's program of equally penetrating and entertaining short plays, most of which infuse their explorations with liberal doses of comedy, one might discern a throughline of people attempting, in the face of painful loneliness and alienation, to forge connection(s) and to find their place in the world.<span><p></p></span>As a sort of prologue to the program of ten-minute plays, special musical guest <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@nailahcarrie/featured">Nailah Carrie</a>, a singer-songwriter and poet, accompanied on guitar by <a href="https://www.julianapter.com/">Julian Apter</a>, enchanted the audience with a Prince cover and an original titled "Bad Girl." The latter song's evocation of an uncertain romantic relationship provides in some ways an apt transition into the first short play, Joël René Scoville's <i>Ethel & Ethel</i>. Set in 1920s Harlem, <i>Ethel & Ethel</i> finds one of the titular Ethels, a dancer surnamed Williams (Danielle Covington), preparing her apartment for a visit from her coworker, jazz/blues singer Ethel Waters (Marinda Anderson). As the former Ethel plies the latter with cold cuts and a cocktail, it becomes clear that her eagerness to please is connected to a relationship between the two women that is more than professional. Both Ethels were real people–Ethel Waters's achievements included being the first Black performer to star in her own television show, a 1939 variety special called <i>The Ethel Waters Show</i>–and the play explores the dynamics of their romance, also a historical fact. Contrasts between the two women, particularly in their attitudes and approaches to their clandestine relationship, generate some humorously awkward moments, the sweetness of which does not obviate the very real dangers that lead Ethel Waters to, for instance, to worry about being seen coming to Ethel Williams's apartment and to insist on the inevitability of capitulation to an imposed heteronormativity. In playing out these negotiations of their relationship, Anderson imbues Waters with an expressive laugh and a guarded receptivity that nicely balances Covington's winning embodiment of Williams's insistence on committing to and enjoying the present moment. <span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-a31a735f-7fff-5053-57f3-c8df0e93fa02" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></span></p></span><i>Mamas & Papas</i>, by Kamilah Bush, brings us forward to the 1970s, a time of widespread challenge to dominant gender and sexual norms. The play begins with another woman who doesn't want to be seen entering a residence, but this time it is 16-year-old Dot (Shayvawn Webster) sneaking home after being out until the small hours of the morning–and planning to go out again. Dot is staying at the home of Charles (Benton Greene), who wants, so far ineffectually, to enforce some rules, which Dot asserts are only "for people who need to be taken care of" and thus not for her. After Dot leaves, against Charles's wishes, Billy (Larry Powell) comes over (also against Charles's wishes), and the two end up hashing out, with funny and sensitive performances on both sides, not only how Charles's (lack of) authority fits into the larger complications of their desire for a closer relationship with Dot but also what Billy sees as Charles's embrace of suffering and erasure of both Billy and a man named Phillip from the part of Charles's world that includes Dot. What emerges in the process, while not without conflict and anxiety, affirms the strength and love to be found in queerness and in queer forms of the family. <span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXARU9-TBFREZX-F4JxsqOW0Lq1P2zwP75BoZvn6oFvR5IzzenMphWEzGgLURu5_Y1ZZCu07n5jwmU4tEcPD0zSokrQVDwLoGWYjRIpR-IM6XXW6FHFxFBAVDsXCNCoBjUjkPdPuMGiQUWycHJTt4cVhyphenhyphenTbb3qmxyYbR9Ug1mwxMsugSyuqXuOtFSQarmj/s1080/TFTT-Season-15-Playwrights-1-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXARU9-TBFREZX-F4JxsqOW0Lq1P2zwP75BoZvn6oFvR5IzzenMphWEzGgLURu5_Y1ZZCu07n5jwmU4tEcPD0zSokrQVDwLoGWYjRIpR-IM6XXW6FHFxFBAVDsXCNCoBjUjkPdPuMGiQUWycHJTt4cVhyphenhyphenTbb3qmxyYbR9Ug1mwxMsugSyuqXuOtFSQarmj/w400-h400/TFTT-Season-15-Playwrights-1-1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></span>LeeLee Jackson's <i>What's Love Got to Do With It?</i> finds another character driven to live her own truth, but the relationship at the play's center fares less well. The play opens with a woman (Danielle Covington) in bed with her man (Benton Greene). Although the latter is quite pleased with how their erotic encounter plays out, cheerfully exiting for a post-sex pee and canceling their plans to go out in favor of ordering delivery, his partner is less satisfied with both the experience and its aftermath–and lets him know it. It is not merely their sex life that is a problem for her, however: she explains, against his protestations, that him being a good man (and good looking) is not good enough. Covington adroitly conveys both the woman's assertive resolve and the moments when it is in danger of cracking, and Greene makes the man's often misguided attempts to persuade the woman to stay with him very funny, even though the various common strategies of trying to 'keep' someone which he demonstrates are not in themselves humorous (and even overlap with strategies of control used by less good men), which perhaps works to undermine some of their power; and the couple's remaining unnamed encourages the audience to think beyond this specific pair. <br /><br />The trouble in <i>Why Jamira Gotta Do All Da Werk?</i>, by Nia Akilah Robinson, occurs between friends rather than romantic partners, even as it opens onto a range of sociocultural issues and pressures. We meet Jamira (Marinda Anderson) and Kiana (Shayvawn Webster) in mid-conversation at a club in present-day New York City. Jamira rapidly makes it apparent that she does not want any more advice from Kiana, whom, she later clarifies, she only thinks of as a "party" friend. The pair's nearly nonstop dancing and sometimes barbed banter create some hilarious moments, but the areas through which their conversation ranges are unquestionably serious, from debates over natural hair to various manifestations of colorism. Significantly, all of this links to how the two present and imagine themselves. Amidst a number of disagreements, the women do bond over the cost of their night out–capitalism, after all, is an enemy that cuts across the hierarchies of gender and race that help to maintain its dominance.<span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p></span><i>It's Karen B****!</i>, by Taylor A. Blackman, is perhaps the most adventurously provocative play of the program. After a sonic montage of "Karen" phone calls, the action begins with Michelle (Marinda Anderson) cheerily cleaning the Hyde Park home that she shares with her husband, Darrell (Benton Greene), singing Beyoncé as she works. Michelle and Darrell are happy, progressive parents who are proud of their daughter, Niani (Danielle Covington), whom they call an example of Black excellence. So when Niani sends a conspicuously formal-sounding text message telling her parents that she has an announcement to make, they feel more than prepared for what they think is coming. As it turns out, with riotous results, neither they nor, pleasurably, the audience are expecting what Niani actually has to say. Suffice it to say that Niani desires less pressure and more power, but power of a type that her parents argue derives from the oppression of others and fair-weather allyship. Anderson and Greene expertly inhabit the gradual shift in Michelle and Darrell's reactions, and they and Covington adeptly ensure that the play's unconventional elements remain grounded and authentic-feeling, right through its bombshell of a finish. <br /><br />On the heels of the most heightened piece in the program, Monique Pappas-Williams's<i> The Mural</i> is perhaps its most dramatic, largely forgoing the comedy that variably characterizes the rest of the short plays. In its place, Shayvawn Webster and Larry Powell bring a largely quiet intensity to the roles of painters Nia and Riz, respectively. Nia finds that Riz, whom she has not seen in several years, has returned to her apartment, aided by her failure to change the locks in the intervening time. Exactly why she hasn't seen him is bound up in questions around the direction that her art has taken and differing definitions of activism, of making a difference, and of artistic voice. Displaying the sort of artistic heart of which Riz would approve, <i>The Mural </i>avoids easy answers for a powerful conclusion to a once-again terrific program from The Fire This Time Festival.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-6974706722949475422024-01-11T13:16:00.000-08:002024-01-11T13:16:58.401-08:00Review: In "Canary," Creating a Big Lie Can Be Just Another Day at the Office<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Canary</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written by Donald Wollner</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Directed by Bree O'Connor</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by <a href="https://www.playfulsubstance.com/">Playful Substance</a> at the <a href="https://www.chaintheatre.org/">Chain Theatre</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">312 W 36th St., 4th fl., Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">January 9-20, 2023 </h3><span id="docs-internal-guid-5c701fe5-7fff-fe26-9d94-927ce9215be0"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFSQ-SZK22G8yFS0T1gMk5c7seQ0RPBb2FQcDerVXmSanujK1gKHfMc9RPUhc7eK1r2eM9DHWTaZd0yHQhnYM5wJObURwbWX5zAeHCQ2FLSy4iTWVp0VOt_1A_TyuWR7bHtRHHv2LU3Iv4wL4lCikN5kBFTmeIXSKswRbTA5S7S7UiiIeBIvIMcnTCvUz/s3600/staff_meeting.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2403" data-original-width="3600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFSQ-SZK22G8yFS0T1gMk5c7seQ0RPBb2FQcDerVXmSanujK1gKHfMc9RPUhc7eK1r2eM9DHWTaZd0yHQhnYM5wJObURwbWX5zAeHCQ2FLSy4iTWVp0VOt_1A_TyuWR7bHtRHHv2LU3Iv4wL4lCikN5kBFTmeIXSKswRbTA5S7S7UiiIeBIvIMcnTCvUz/w640-h428/staff_meeting.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Dan Kellmer, Yessenia Rivas, & Jason Scott Quinn. "Staff Meeting": Photo Credit: Amanda Lacson</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span id="docs-internal-guid-67e34d99-7fff-aeac-8bc3-033fa046821a"><div style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">For the bulk of the twentieth century, the canary was instrumentalized by the working class as a warning device, employed by coal miners because it would indicate dangerous levels of carbon monoxide or other toxic gasses by succumbing to them. Donald Wollner's </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Canary</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">, set several decades ago in roughly the same period as canaries were replaced with electronic detectors, takes its title from and plays on this proverbial usage of the bird. Making its world premiere at the Chain Theatre as the first full production mounted by Playful Substance since its fall 2019 production of Raphael Perahia’s </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Shelter in Place</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">,</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> Canary </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">playfully but bitingly imagines a New York advertising firm as the location of an inflection point in the neoliberal project that both is itself toxic and prefigures today's ad-saturated existence and deliberately distorted public discourse. </span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">While the effects of what its characters engage in may ultimately be expansive, </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Canary </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">keeps its cast small. The play focuses on the creative team of Marty (Dan Kellmer) and Cassie (Yessenia Rivas), who, while successful at producing copy, have not yet reached the heights of the company's true heavy hitters. Cassie is still driven to be the best at what she does, and if Marty sees their work as a living rather than an art–he maintains that what they do is more akin to remixing and gives Cassie Tennessee Williams to read as an exemplar of 'real' writing–he too wants to succeed and be recognized, especially by an advertising award. Therefore, when their superior Ira (Jason Scott Quinn)–a conduit between them and the highest of higher-ups and a man whom Marty likens to a hurricane (a comparison that Quinn's performance largely and entertainingly substantiates)–brings them an opportunity to help sell what he describes as absolute bullshit to the public for a mysterious client, Marty and Cassie are put in the complicated position of deciding whether what they were hoping for is in fact what they actually want. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The production richly mines the tension between the satisfaction of the creative process and the ends to which it is put. We see Marty and Cassie workshopping, reaching that point of inspiration, and refining the results (which certainly seems to parallel the artistic process, at least for some), and the texture and energy in Kellmer and Rivas's performances invest us in each step of these journeys alongside Marty and Cassie. The rush from overcoming creative challenges is not lessened, and may even be increased, when Ira asks for results while responding to most of their questions about the big new client with "No can say." At the same time, the pair's successes are consistently shadowed by doubts. The play opens with Marty trying to confirm whether he unconsciously stole an idea from a magazine, and, likely more importantly, Cassie second-guesses a tagline that they are both excited about when she thinks about how the girl in the photo that will feature in the ad is a real person, much as she will later second-guess whether she has the desire to be a heavy hitter in the industry. Additionally, a request that they change the word "soldiers" in another piece of copy points towards questions of ethics, lying, and the limits of "it's a story" as a justification that will intensify around the opportunity for their big break. As all of this unfolds, Cassie's canary status is cleverly embodied (and skillfully performed) in ways other than her yellow blouse. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">While speaking to how easy it can be to persuade people to support something that is against their own interests, </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Canary </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">keeps its central mysteries engagingly close to its vest until quite near the end, and it is trenchantly funny while doing so. While we may not have heeded the warning in the past (re)created by the play, we can hope that it is not yet entirely too late. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: right;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</span></p></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-84752937609833026422024-01-06T12:29:00.000-08:002024-01-11T13:16:22.465-08:00News: "Before the Drugs Kick In" Extends Its Run Through January with a Move to Queens<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivowyI7jPGKuhd64sTH67iZSba0P36eqhS6UmUKcMW_YIIZsQx-NZKQ_fZ7I2rsFyns-H9_KZP0d14nHx0Fiv4Fv_rcv8zVczuJOIUJNx0Mgytwn1AgCnhq_FgExyUJYDJTt_QN_3G4Pifmcta56omJcMMjliMtOwFqD618y81vGGsbAkC9aC_1Qdo4vHp/s639/Photo%20by%20Arin%20Sang-urai%20-%20Before%20The%20Drugs%20Kick%20In%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="639" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivowyI7jPGKuhd64sTH67iZSba0P36eqhS6UmUKcMW_YIIZsQx-NZKQ_fZ7I2rsFyns-H9_KZP0d14nHx0Fiv4Fv_rcv8zVczuJOIUJNx0Mgytwn1AgCnhq_FgExyUJYDJTt_QN_3G4Pifmcta56omJcMMjliMtOwFqD618y81vGGsbAkC9aC_1Qdo4vHp/w640-h426/Photo%20by%20Arin%20Sang-urai%20-%20Before%20The%20Drugs%20Kick%20In%20(1).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Maria DeCotis. Photo by Arin Sang-urai.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Mike Lemme's <i>Before the Drugs Kick In</i>, performed by NYC comedian and actress <a href="http://www.mariadecotis.com/">Maria DeCotis</a>, which concluded its December run at UNDER St. Marks, has added January dates at <a href="https://www.courtsquaretheaterlic.org/">Court Square Theater</a> in Long Island City, Queens. In <a href="https://www.thinkingtheaternyc.com/2023/12/review-before-drugs-kick-in-may-alter.html">our review of this excellent show</a>, which takes the outward form of a stand-up set, we described it as inviting "us inside the mind of one woman for a riveting, empathetic, and darkly funny exploration of mental health and its (mis)treatments and stigmas, especially where women are concerned; the oppressiveness and isolation of the suburbs; and what Betty Friedan termed the feminine mystique." <br /><br /><i>Before the Drugs Kick In</i> runs from January 5th through 28th - see below for the complete list of performances - and Court Square Theater is located at 44-02 23rd Street, Long Island City, a 5-minute walk from the 7, M, and E trains.<br /><br />Tickets may be purchased <a href="https://www.eventbrite.com/e/before-the-drugs-kick-in-tickets-779745769587">at this link</a>, and you can also support the show and its future by donating to its <a href="https://mikelemme.us11.list-manage.com/track/click?u=7577cb74c9f09f5456cf1ed78&id=6fe4255932&e=eb5a82c523">gofundme</a>. <br /> <br /><b>Performance Schedule: </b><p></p><p>Friday, 1/5 - 7pm <br />Saturday, 1/6 - 7pm<br />Sunday, 1/7 - 4pm<br /><br />Friday, 1/12 - 7pm <br />Saturday, 1/13 - 7pm<br />Sunday, 1/14 - 4pm <br /><br />Friday, 1/19 - 7pm<br />Saturday, 1/20 - 7pm<br />Sunday, 1/21 - 4pm<br /><br />Friday, 1/26 - 7pm<br />Saturday, 1/27 - 7pm<br />Sunday, 1/28 - 4pm</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-18964849548989649622023-12-28T10:48:00.000-08:002023-12-28T10:48:31.062-08:00News: Acclaimed Solo Bioplay "Tennessee Rising" Returns January 19 - February 2<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CIdp_zOMgnVlkUqG3X1_GVFH_t8p6Hwzo_Crxa7Iem_s3IXiThpEOcObShEa_JUIHnufTXCVTr2s4qhIIgRafipZm2mUV-INM39VmRdkfFuJooZjaHsurWdZAb3hSJGbcCoV_Z91G-AUvQKM0GyPsgoFKdFEjwDkJfQrktE1fwD5FxWyufj40-HqUfjj/s800/Tennessee-650x800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="650" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CIdp_zOMgnVlkUqG3X1_GVFH_t8p6Hwzo_Crxa7Iem_s3IXiThpEOcObShEa_JUIHnufTXCVTr2s4qhIIgRafipZm2mUV-INM39VmRdkfFuJooZjaHsurWdZAb3hSJGbcCoV_Z91G-AUvQKM0GyPsgoFKdFEjwDkJfQrktE1fwD5FxWyufj40-HqUfjj/w325-h400/Tennessee-650x800.jpg" width="325" /></a>After critically acclaimed engagements Off-Broadway (you can read our review of the show's winters/spring 2023 run at AMT <a href="https://www.thinkingtheaternyc.com/2023/03/review-tennessee-rising-dawn-of.html">here</a>.) and at the 2023 Edinburgh Fringe, Jacob Storms’s <i>Tennessee Rising: The Dawn of Tennessee Williams</i> will return to New York for a limited engagement. This solo play written and performed by Jacob Storms and originally directed for the stage by Alan Cumming will run January 19 - February 2 at The Laurie Beechman Theatre.</p><p>What led Tennessee Williams to become the most groundbreaking and unique playwright of the twentieth century? <i>Tennessee Rising: The Dawn of Tennessee Williams </i>explores the formative six-year period from 1939-1945 in which an unknown writer named Tom metamorphosizes into the acclaimed playwright known as Tennessee. The solo play brings these unknown years center stage as the audience becomes friend and confidant to young Williams as he experiences the unexpected highs and devastating lows of his early career, wherein his most iconic character emerges: himself.</p><p>Jacob Storms is best known for his recurring role (Serge) on Steven Soderbergh and Gregory Jacobs's Amazon Original Series <i>Red Oaks</i>. Storms won the United Solo Award for his original solo play <i>Tennessee Rising: The Dawn of Tennessee Williams</i> at United Solo Fest. He has performed at Carnegie Hall, The Guggenheim Museum, Jazz at Lincoln Center, New York Live Arts Theatre, Brooklyn Academy of Music, Symphony Space, The St. Louis, New Orleans, and Provincetown Tennessee Williams Festivals, The Hollywood Bowl, Disney Concert Hall, PICA's Time-Based Art Festival, the cell theatre, and more. Jacob is also the youngest actor in the world to have performed Doug Wright's Pulitzer Prize-winning, forty-character solo play <i>I Am My Own Wife</i>. For more, see @therealjacobstorms on Instagram and <a href="http://Jacobstorms.net">Jacobstorms.net</a>.<br /><br /><i>Tennessee Rising: The Dawn of Tennessee Williams</i> runs January 19 – February 2, Fridays at 7pm at The Laurie Beechman Theater (inside West Bank Café) at 407 West 42nd Street at Ninth Avenue. Tickets are $24 and are available at <a href="http://www.spincyclenyc.com/">www.SpinCycleNYC.com</a>. Please note that there is also a $25 per person food/ drink minimum at all performances.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-82126208150700179432023-12-12T16:07:00.000-08:002023-12-12T16:07:44.414-08:00Review: "Before The Drugs Kick In" May Alter Your Perception<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i>Before The Drugs Kick In</i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Written and directed by <a href="https://www.mikelemme.com/">Mike Lemme</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Presented by Mike Lemme at <a href="https://www.frigid.nyc/">UNDER St. Marks</a></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">94 St. Marks Place, Manhattan, NYC</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">December 8-22, 2023</h3><span id="docs-internal-guid-73e71948-7fff-c9e1-d03d-9d8072c8b91b"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPufx962clt1GIynPvlh91WvPHsnrbMhWc9ChTRDsRl99424EKNzeW4ESFGamninomKO9FeGdriFi_MgwVuowyc3U5mw8Ht-3FiCJgy3HwyONfx4uQM-xPMVM4fF882xeN9gjdm_Qfyrh1CknvY5ZSU4PDHSILwmKGRiB9oN9BQ1CE9xxBlTiUqzRMrRX/s7427/Photo%20by%20Arin%20Sang-urai%20-%20Before%20The%20Drugs%20Kick%20In%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4954" data-original-width="7427" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqPufx962clt1GIynPvlh91WvPHsnrbMhWc9ChTRDsRl99424EKNzeW4ESFGamninomKO9FeGdriFi_MgwVuowyc3U5mw8Ht-3FiCJgy3HwyONfx4uQM-xPMVM4fF882xeN9gjdm_Qfyrh1CknvY5ZSU4PDHSILwmKGRiB9oN9BQ1CE9xxBlTiUqzRMrRX/w640-h426/Photo%20by%20Arin%20Sang-urai%20-%20Before%20The%20Drugs%20Kick%20In%20(1).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Maria DeCotis. Photo by Arin Sang-urai. </span></td></tr></tbody></table>Why should a person be defined by her lowest, most vulnerable point? Why should such a point dictate the course of her life? Such questions pervade comedian and playwright Mike Lemme's <i>Before The Drugs Kick In</i>, currently making its New York debut in the fittingly intimate space of UNDER St. Marks. <i>Before The Drugs Kick In </i>made its world premiere at the 2023 Edinburgh Festival Fringe, collecting not only critical praise but also nominations for <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/writersroom/entries/4a1c82c9-fbd0-4411-adcf-8000b69553ed">the BBC Writersroom Popcorn Award for Best New Writing</a> and <a href="https://www.mhfestival.com/2023/08/choo-choo-wins-2023-mental-health-foundation-fringe-award/">the Mental Health Foundation Fringe Award</a>. Inspired by personal experience, <i>Before The Drugs Kick In</i> invites us inside the mind of one woman for a riveting, empathetic, and darkly funny exploration of mental health and its (mis)treatments and stigmas, especially where women are concerned; the oppressiveness and isolation of the suburbs; and what Betty Friedan termed the feminine mystique: the expectation that women should be happy with a combination of heteronormative marriage and domestic and reproductive labor.</span><div><span><br /></span></div>The hour-long play takes the form of a stand-up set by a woman named Lynn T. Walsh (<a href="http://www.mariadecotis.com/">Maria DeCotis</a>). The stage on which she performs is bare except for a single chair, and, clad in head-to-toe black, with a cigarette perched behind her ear, she cuts a rather archetypal figure as a stand-up comic. It takes almost no time, however, for Walsh to throw the play's first curveball, a clear signal that what is to come will in fact be far from typical. As with <a href="https://www.thinkingtheaternyc.com/2022/02/review-frigid-ny-festival-2022-no-more.html">our discussion</a> of the 2022 production of Lemme's <i>Bathroom of a Bar on Bleecker</i>, it seems best to let the audience discover the specific revelations nested within <i>Before The Drugs Kick In</i> for themselves–including who the spectators are to Walsh herself. Suffice it to say that Walsh is using stand-up to process the experience and ongoing ramifications of a pivotal moment in her life that she calls a mistake, and that her particular use of the artform includes some unexpected layers. The stand-up form also allows Walsh to make some trenchant contrasts between her treatment–by both professionals and family–as a woman who had a mental health crisis and, say, a successful middle-aged male comedian who publicly dated an underage woman. Significant to the play's explorations is not only the aftermath of the crisis but also the causes, particularly suburban solitude and enervation (in her case, in the 1990s, when for many, she observes, maternity leave still meant leaving one's job). Walsh points out, for example–quite accurately, in our experience–that something like taking a walk around the neighborhood tends to be looked at askance in the suburbs, where the accepted path is from house to car and vice versa and the typical points of interaction with the neighbors are within the bounds of one's own driveway or from behind the glass of a picture window. <div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIF2KpVD7ioU1wH41ZLBOmWFPLeLf9Q6P9LdkguT-GXdIvZqFInJU19y8asBxJU-WeDUIG2GGfh0OgioUCooQIGKnMAno_6v6a5sKFc4mrWtDaLdzEslG2Nr0DGbOE2FU04e565cfwxQG28J4qMMPzCFKOKForyi0D61ZGVQ5MbkYiJp19VjOejPfzsa5c/s8192/Photo%20by%20Arin%20Sang-urai%20-%20Before%20The%20Drugs%20Kick%20In%20(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5464" data-original-width="8192" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIF2KpVD7ioU1wH41ZLBOmWFPLeLf9Q6P9LdkguT-GXdIvZqFInJU19y8asBxJU-WeDUIG2GGfh0OgioUCooQIGKnMAno_6v6a5sKFc4mrWtDaLdzEslG2Nr0DGbOE2FU04e565cfwxQG28J4qMMPzCFKOKForyi0D61ZGVQ5MbkYiJp19VjOejPfzsa5c/w640-h426/Photo%20by%20Arin%20Sang-urai%20-%20Before%20The%20Drugs%20Kick%20In%20(6).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Maria DeCotis and Mike Lemme. Photo by Arin Sang-urai.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>DeCotis, a multidisciplinary artist who also performs her own stand-up, delivers a positively spellbinding turn. She plays with the rhythms of live comedy, stretching some silences, for instance, and letting the audience sit with them, or pausing to gaze intently at something or someone offstage, and landing punchlines as artfully as she suggests both deep wells of pain and a determination to find ways to carry on. The production also includes a short post-show talkback with Lemme and DeCotis, which, on the day that we attended, gave some insight into the play's origins, development, aims, and reception (including by audiences of different types and on different continents). Grounding an unconventional concept in quotidian authenticity, <i>Before The Drugs Kick In</i> conjures a potent piece of theater.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">-John R. Ziegler and Leah Richards</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5139726146745430926.post-34814411915018650512023-12-09T09:52:00.000-08:002023-12-12T15:43:03.713-08:00News: Playful Substance Presents "Canary" January 9-20, 2024, at the Chain <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWVH_Aph08gc-yRFW2DwrI-T6w6USS_n1dReqNX3NREJrYnS9RGOc81-k-oPe444xZAuDZhRkfZbgPXZ40U-VuS0RODLWS8oTfuButsoBqMsq9mHmCEguj7Iil6pVS83PESljfD-KTnfXkB6fwwbzqn9LUS16gfkUBWhV85OOYORJeV-6MnbEhSdBQD1js/s1000/canary.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="1000" height="445" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWVH_Aph08gc-yRFW2DwrI-T6w6USS_n1dReqNX3NREJrYnS9RGOc81-k-oPe444xZAuDZhRkfZbgPXZ40U-VuS0RODLWS8oTfuButsoBqMsq9mHmCEguj7Iil6pVS83PESljfD-KTnfXkB6fwwbzqn9LUS16gfkUBWhV85OOYORJeV-6MnbEhSdBQD1js/w640-h445/canary.webp" width="640" /></a></div>This January, Playful Substance will present <i>Canary</i>, by Donald Wollner, its first full production since Raphael Perahia’s oddly prophetic Shelter in Place in the fall of 2019. <br /><br />“After nearly four years of focusing on development work, community events, and side projects, we are excited to open our return season with a world premiere from such a skilled playwright,” says Playful Substance’s Artistic Director, Bree O’Connor; “Don’s work embodies Playful Substance’s highest aspirations; to tell the truth with a quick wit and embrace discomfort as part of the fun.”<br /><br />In <i>Canary</i>, we are in the previous century, and Cassie wants to be the best copywriter in advertising history. She’s young, inexperienced, and a woman in a deeply sexist world. But she and her art director turn out extremely creative work. It gets noticed, and soon they are locked in a room grinding out their agency’s coveted “mystery” campaign. Can they get Americans to swallow the biggest chunk of bullshit this country has ever seen? And who are the winners and losers in this game?<br /><br /><i>Canary</i> is written by Donald Wollner (<i>Tales from the Dark Side</i>), directed by Bree O’Connor (<i>Frank</i>, <i>I Can Kiss Like Ted Bundy</i>) and features Dan Kellmer (<i>Shelter in Place</i>, <i>The Blacklist</i>), Yessenia Rivas (<i>CowlGirl</i>, <i>Your Silent Face</i>) and Jason Scott Quinn (<i>All That You Love Will Be Carried Away</i>).<br /><br /><i>Canary</i> will run for 10 performances: January 9-20, 2024, Tuesday- Saturday @ 8:00 pm at The Chain (Studio Theater) 312 W 36th Street, 4th Floor, New York, NY 10018.<br /><br /><i>Tickets for Canary</i> are $35 and will be available for the general public on December 5th at <a href="https://our.show/canary">https://our.show/canary</a>.<br /><br /><i>Canary</i> was developed through Playful Substance’s weekly Writers’ Group, an ongoing feedback and accountability group for playwrights and screenwriters at all levels of experience. Playful Substance offers writing mentorship, developmental readings, and workshops along with unique opportunities to present new works through annual community events such as Play Date and Pithy Party. Its weekly Writers’ Group is offered throughout the year on Tuesday evenings both in-person and online. It also offers a monthly Writers’ Group for Caregivers (online only) the third Saturday of each month. For more information, email Bree O’Connor at <a href="mailto:artisticdirector@playfulsubstance.com">artisticdirector@playfulsubstance.com</a>.<p></p><p>For further information about Canary or Playful Substance, visit <a href="http://playfulsubstance.com/">playfulsubstance.com</a></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0