Back from "Ameriville" at Round House Theatre, a moderately populated Sunday matinee.
I can't easily describe this production - it's sung-through, woven with narrative and dance, but you can't exactly call it a light opera. It is built on the voices of Katrina Hurricane victims/rebuilders.
The four performers (members of the Universes Theater Company) open with a chanting/stomping ode to hammering, kicking off the production with the motif of building. This sets the tone of hope for the 100-minute, no-intermission mutli-voiced "rant" on everything that's wrong with America. They weave the many frayed threads of stories told by mothers, fathers, vets, sons and daughters searching for their parents, barbers and beauticians, stand-up comics.
The stories move well beyond the Katrina disaster and its long-term repercussions to address systemic inequities and institutionalized bigotries.
Theatrically, it was much more entertaining than that sounds. Four strong, textured voices, harmonizing through diversity; lighting and projections bringing static imagery to life; and the dance, stomping out the dimensions of conveyed reality in four corners, collapsing and expanding the limited space into new tempest-tossed worlds.
The four performers/creators stayed for an audience Q&A and confessed what wouldn't be hard to guess - that they don't always "preach to the converted" as they had just done in a liberal Montgomery County theater and that on several occasions they have watched their audiences react with open hostility. (I was angry, and I'm a Democrat; but I think I was angry for the reasons the production wanted me to be - I doubt many Republicans would stick it out.) Though it's disconcerting to hear that the actors on stage are observing their audiences, it's human and understandable, especially when the audience behavior can itself be theatrical.
If I'd been brave and raised my hand, I would have complimented the creators for providing the solution to the problems they sang about, though it was subtle and metaphorical. It was the hammer. If there are problems in the world, you don't solve them by moaning about it. You do what all survivors do: build.
Ameriville, Round House Theatre, Bethesda, MD
Directed by Chay Yew
Written, created, and performed by Universes:
Steven Sapp
Mildred Ruiz-Sapp
Gamal A. Chasten
William Ruiz
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Down the Up Staircase
This is another little bit of a catch-up post - I went to see Waiting for Superman a couple of weeks ago, despairing of the U.S. education system. Unqualified, disinterested teachers are kept in the system, while interested students are ignored, abandoned.
What can we do to make education interesting to teachers, accessible to students?
I hate to give credit to Arianna Huffington for much of anything, but many years ago in The Futurist magazine we gave her credit for authoring a singular formula for success: Celebritizing.
This evening I had a yen to watch one of my favorite movies on DVD, Quiz Show. The story involves the corruption of a young, ambitious intellectual, Charlie van Doren, by the glory of fame and fortune. Television just wanted to sell Geritol, but was attempting to do so at a time of a national U.S. crisis in the education system.
The movie opens with the Sputnik crisis of 1957: The Soviet Union was beating the United States into space, and to remedy the situation, America needed a boost to math and science specifically, and Education generally. The role of television as a "national classroom" was driven home time and again in the mind of van Doren - he could serve as a glamorous role model to the nation's youth, generating excitement in learning and general knowledge.
It was the right idea, but with the wrong motivations.
It is a factor of my years, my distance from the real-world education system, that forces me to refer to cultural artifacts like this. My first memory of educational role models were the Sandy Dennis film, Up the Down Staircase, and the Sidney Poitier film To Sir, with Love. Of course, there is no dearth of films and television series featuring inspiring teachers, ranging from Goodbye, Mr. Chips (take your pick, Robert Donat or Peter O'Toole) to Mr. Schue in Glee.
Teachers inspire us; education is dramatic. Why don't we see more of it on TV now? I could envision something on prime-time TV that honors learning and knowledge, but without the numbing superficiality of quiz shows. A professor or teacher who inspires with ideas and connections to real-world problems. I'd watch that show. I'd want to be like that teacher.
I don't necessarily think this is a panacea, but to get young people interested in learning and in teaching. it couldn't hurt to give them more of those role models once again.
But it still seems it's the Geritol sellers of the world in charge of the image-distribution system.
Anyway, there you have it. How to inspire: Celebritize. Not far off from "celebrate." I remain optimistic.
love, hosaa
tripping down an Up staircase
ETA: So I guess there is a celebrity teacher out there now: Tony Danza on A&E's Teach. Watching now...
ETAA: I liked it. It's more about Tony Danza's self-discoveries (at least in the episode I watched last night), but I think this could be good.
The other idea I had was for a behind the scenes look at how a show like "Jeopardy" gets put together. What kind of conversations go into the dumbing down of information, how do they come up with the clues that allow people to answer questions they don't really know? In Quiz Show, they got it right - people just want to follow the money. You don't have to cheat to win, you just have to have easier questions.
What can we do to make education interesting to teachers, accessible to students?
I hate to give credit to Arianna Huffington for much of anything, but many years ago in The Futurist magazine we gave her credit for authoring a singular formula for success: Celebritizing.
This evening I had a yen to watch one of my favorite movies on DVD, Quiz Show. The story involves the corruption of a young, ambitious intellectual, Charlie van Doren, by the glory of fame and fortune. Television just wanted to sell Geritol, but was attempting to do so at a time of a national U.S. crisis in the education system.
The movie opens with the Sputnik crisis of 1957: The Soviet Union was beating the United States into space, and to remedy the situation, America needed a boost to math and science specifically, and Education generally. The role of television as a "national classroom" was driven home time and again in the mind of van Doren - he could serve as a glamorous role model to the nation's youth, generating excitement in learning and general knowledge.
It was the right idea, but with the wrong motivations.
It is a factor of my years, my distance from the real-world education system, that forces me to refer to cultural artifacts like this. My first memory of educational role models were the Sandy Dennis film, Up the Down Staircase, and the Sidney Poitier film To Sir, with Love. Of course, there is no dearth of films and television series featuring inspiring teachers, ranging from Goodbye, Mr. Chips (take your pick, Robert Donat or Peter O'Toole) to Mr. Schue in Glee.
Teachers inspire us; education is dramatic. Why don't we see more of it on TV now? I could envision something on prime-time TV that honors learning and knowledge, but without the numbing superficiality of quiz shows. A professor or teacher who inspires with ideas and connections to real-world problems. I'd watch that show. I'd want to be like that teacher.
I don't necessarily think this is a panacea, but to get young people interested in learning and in teaching. it couldn't hurt to give them more of those role models once again.
But it still seems it's the Geritol sellers of the world in charge of the image-distribution system.
Anyway, there you have it. How to inspire: Celebritize. Not far off from "celebrate." I remain optimistic.
love, hosaa
tripping down an Up staircase
ETA: So I guess there is a celebrity teacher out there now: Tony Danza on A&E's Teach. Watching now...
ETAA: I liked it. It's more about Tony Danza's self-discoveries (at least in the episode I watched last night), but I think this could be good.
The other idea I had was for a behind the scenes look at how a show like "Jeopardy" gets put together. What kind of conversations go into the dumbing down of information, how do they come up with the clues that allow people to answer questions they don't really know? In Quiz Show, they got it right - people just want to follow the money. You don't have to cheat to win, you just have to have easier questions.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Dancing as Fast as I Can
This is a bit of a catch-up post. Got to see the So You Think You Can Dance Tour come through Baltimore on October 5, along with a couple of friends. Photos follow. (I did take video, but the spotlight ghosted out the dancers quite a bit; my camera isn't sophisticated enough to resolve complicated lighting issues on the fly - nor am I.)
Full cast as appearing in the last photo (left to right): Courtney Galiano, Ade Obayomi, Ashley Galvan, Kent Boyd, Kathryn McCormick, Adechike Torbert, Lauren Froderman, Russell Ferguson, Robert Roldan, Billy Boyd, Allison Holker, Jose Ruiz. Photos by C. G. Wagner
The show was loud and exciting, short on traditional ballroom, long on hip-hop and contemporary. The crowd favorites were clearly Lauren and Kent, the most recent season's number one and number two "favorite dancers." I kept my eye on adorable Robert and incredibly gifted Allison, whom I've now seen perform live three times. (See "Ooo That Kiss," below.)
My friends had treated me to dinner before the show, and it would have been thoroughly delightful if we hadn't had to go through the ritual of dissatisfaction - we were seated in the bar rather than the upstairs dining area; the garlic-free menu was limited (girlfriend's severe allergy is a handicap in happy dining); the service was slow, though to my mind quite friendly; the portion for the dish gf's hubby ordered was ridiculously small for the price, whereas mine was ridiculously large. In short, my hosts were aggravated, but I was delighted.
Then there was the issue with not knowing how to do the pay-on-your-way-out parking machines. It would help if the driver would (a) remember where he parked and (b) read the instructions.
Those were their problems, I figure. I can usually drown their bickering out. But the bummer for me was, again, listening to gf try to itemize the gay versus the non-gay dancers. What was the bloody point? Even gf's hubby couldn't get her to see why it was so offensive to bring up the dancers' sexuality. GF keeps saying she doesn't have anything against gay people, but she keeps bringing it up!
I finally called her a bigot. Not a nice thing to do in the back seat of someone else's car, but I couldn't help it. We didn't continue the conversation, except in my own mind, which is where I silently lecture the world... (until I blog about it, that is!) The next time this happens, I will just ask her to repeat the exact same conversation, but instead of saying "gay," substitute the word "Jew." She might get it then.
For the next couple of days I stewed a bit, then felt bad that I called her a bigot. It wasn't nice. Anyway, we got together just two days later for another concert at Strathmore, Baltimore Symphony Orchestra's tribute to dance, where we were joined by another couple.
This time we just focused on the show, which was a little lighter on the actual dancing than we expected - only six of the 16 numbers were accompanied by dancers, ranging from classical ballet to a couple of performances by the Lombard Twins, Facunda and Martin, amazing tango-tappers dancing to Astor Piazzolla. (A total of three Piazzolla pieces were on the program, compared with two Tchaikovsky pieces; the other composers covered included Dietz and Schwartz, Khachaturian, Cole Porter, Richard Rodgers, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Jerome Kern, George Gershwin, and Ronan Hardiman).
This afternoon gf and I went together to see "Sabrina Fair" at Ford's Theatre, which has already received a rave review from WaPo, so I won't be redundant. The nontraditional casting (an African American Sabrina) was the twist to this production, and gf questioned whether it would work. I believe she accepted it but felt it ought to have been addressed in the script somehow. Apparently, even the playwright had suggested addressing the race issue if directors chose to cast the show this way, but it didn't happen.
The result of that ignoring the elephant in the room, to me, made the story more focused on the essential issue of class distinction (and incidentally whether money can buy your way into an elevation of class). I think a lot of other things could have been done with nontraditional casting, including making the Larrabees African American and the Fairchilds white. Or make the Larrabee brothers sisters instead, and the chauffeur's daughter a son.
Or you could even go nontraditional in the gender casting too. But it was set in the 1950s, when such a love story was even more unthinkable than cross-racial pairings.
The first comment gf had was that she thought one of the Larrabee characters was miscast. I won't say which one. She just said she thought he was too obviously gay.
Sigh. At least she stifled herself before the second act and didn't bring it up again afterwards.
Social progress still has a long way to go, ya'll.
The show ended with a glorious dance to Nat King Cole singing "LOVE," and you couldn't pry the grin off my face! What joy!
love, hosaa
dancing in my heart
Full cast as appearing in the last photo (left to right): Courtney Galiano, Ade Obayomi, Ashley Galvan, Kent Boyd, Kathryn McCormick, Adechike Torbert, Lauren Froderman, Russell Ferguson, Robert Roldan, Billy Boyd, Allison Holker, Jose Ruiz. Photos by C. G. Wagner
The show was loud and exciting, short on traditional ballroom, long on hip-hop and contemporary. The crowd favorites were clearly Lauren and Kent, the most recent season's number one and number two "favorite dancers." I kept my eye on adorable Robert and incredibly gifted Allison, whom I've now seen perform live three times. (See "Ooo That Kiss," below.)
My friends had treated me to dinner before the show, and it would have been thoroughly delightful if we hadn't had to go through the ritual of dissatisfaction - we were seated in the bar rather than the upstairs dining area; the garlic-free menu was limited (girlfriend's severe allergy is a handicap in happy dining); the service was slow, though to my mind quite friendly; the portion for the dish gf's hubby ordered was ridiculously small for the price, whereas mine was ridiculously large. In short, my hosts were aggravated, but I was delighted.
Then there was the issue with not knowing how to do the pay-on-your-way-out parking machines. It would help if the driver would (a) remember where he parked and (b) read the instructions.
Those were their problems, I figure. I can usually drown their bickering out. But the bummer for me was, again, listening to gf try to itemize the gay versus the non-gay dancers. What was the bloody point? Even gf's hubby couldn't get her to see why it was so offensive to bring up the dancers' sexuality. GF keeps saying she doesn't have anything against gay people, but she keeps bringing it up!
I finally called her a bigot. Not a nice thing to do in the back seat of someone else's car, but I couldn't help it. We didn't continue the conversation, except in my own mind, which is where I silently lecture the world... (until I blog about it, that is!) The next time this happens, I will just ask her to repeat the exact same conversation, but instead of saying "gay," substitute the word "Jew." She might get it then.
For the next couple of days I stewed a bit, then felt bad that I called her a bigot. It wasn't nice. Anyway, we got together just two days later for another concert at Strathmore, Baltimore Symphony Orchestra's tribute to dance, where we were joined by another couple.
This time we just focused on the show, which was a little lighter on the actual dancing than we expected - only six of the 16 numbers were accompanied by dancers, ranging from classical ballet to a couple of performances by the Lombard Twins, Facunda and Martin, amazing tango-tappers dancing to Astor Piazzolla. (A total of three Piazzolla pieces were on the program, compared with two Tchaikovsky pieces; the other composers covered included Dietz and Schwartz, Khachaturian, Cole Porter, Richard Rodgers, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Jerome Kern, George Gershwin, and Ronan Hardiman).
This afternoon gf and I went together to see "Sabrina Fair" at Ford's Theatre, which has already received a rave review from WaPo, so I won't be redundant. The nontraditional casting (an African American Sabrina) was the twist to this production, and gf questioned whether it would work. I believe she accepted it but felt it ought to have been addressed in the script somehow. Apparently, even the playwright had suggested addressing the race issue if directors chose to cast the show this way, but it didn't happen.
The result of that ignoring the elephant in the room, to me, made the story more focused on the essential issue of class distinction (and incidentally whether money can buy your way into an elevation of class). I think a lot of other things could have been done with nontraditional casting, including making the Larrabees African American and the Fairchilds white. Or make the Larrabee brothers sisters instead, and the chauffeur's daughter a son.
Or you could even go nontraditional in the gender casting too. But it was set in the 1950s, when such a love story was even more unthinkable than cross-racial pairings.
The first comment gf had was that she thought one of the Larrabee characters was miscast. I won't say which one. She just said she thought he was too obviously gay.
Sigh. At least she stifled herself before the second act and didn't bring it up again afterwards.
Social progress still has a long way to go, ya'll.
The show ended with a glorious dance to Nat King Cole singing "LOVE," and you couldn't pry the grin off my face! What joy!
love, hosaa
dancing in my heart
Monday, October 4, 2010
"Commit" Is a Verb
I'm "stuck" with an extra ticket to see Sabrina Fair at Ford's Theatre in a couple of weeks because an acquaintance who said she wanted to see it with me suddenly remembered a prior commitment with her daughter.
I'm clear on the concept of family coming first, but unclear on the concept of making a commitment you can't keep.
At first she just wanted me to change the date. Sorry, honey, Ticketmaster doesn't do exchanges. That's why being a subscriber and buying from the box office makes a difference. I have to exchange dates at Round House Theatre at least twice a season.
Anyway, in the process of apologizing and proclaiming how much she loves Ford's Theatre, she said (for about the eleventeenth time) that she is going to join Ford's as a member.
Commit to join or not to join. It's a commitment either way. Just saying you're going to do it doesn't count.
As I was walking to work today, I started counting some of the organizations I currently support (mostly arts and culture). In addition to the nonprofit association I work for, World Future Society, there are my alumni associations, Grinnell College and Syracuse University.
In the adventure of being a Clay Aiken fan, I have also supported the Bubel/Aiken Foundation, now known as the National Inclusion Project (NIP), as well as Unicef USA. I've gone along with a lot of Clay's "asks," including donating to Unicef recently for aid to children victimized by the floods in Pakistan.
I also went along with that Cookie company promo last year, wherein you rounded up as many of your e-mail addresses as possible to vote for NIP in a competition among thousands of nonprofit groups. The good news is that NIP won $10,000. The bad news is all the e-mail spam I get from the Cookie company.
I chose not to participate in this year's corporate scheme (Pepsi's) to collect active e-mail addresses, in spite of the fact that NIP and other worthy organizations had the potential to win some money. I also chose not to attend this year's gala "Champions of Change" fundraiser, because when I did so last year, it was a lot of money that I could not divert to the other organizations I've committed to.
Again, these are my choices. Other people have committed to these activities. Good! I'm certainly not saying other people shouldn't do it. I'm just saying I'm not doing it.
Anyway, here's my own little roundup of current commitments (not just Facebook fandoms):
World Future Society (where I've worked for 29 years)
Grinnell College alumni
Syracuse University alumni
USS Emmons Association (my father's shipmates)
Smithsonian Institution
National Museum of African American History and Culture
National Museum of Women in the Arts
Theatre Communications Group
John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
Round House Theatre
Ford's Theatre
Corcoran Gallery of Art
Phillips Collection
WETA (Public Television and FM classical music)
MPT (Maryland Public Television)
love, hosaa
committing
I'm clear on the concept of family coming first, but unclear on the concept of making a commitment you can't keep.
At first she just wanted me to change the date. Sorry, honey, Ticketmaster doesn't do exchanges. That's why being a subscriber and buying from the box office makes a difference. I have to exchange dates at Round House Theatre at least twice a season.
Anyway, in the process of apologizing and proclaiming how much she loves Ford's Theatre, she said (for about the eleventeenth time) that she is going to join Ford's as a member.
Commit to join or not to join. It's a commitment either way. Just saying you're going to do it doesn't count.
As I was walking to work today, I started counting some of the organizations I currently support (mostly arts and culture). In addition to the nonprofit association I work for, World Future Society, there are my alumni associations, Grinnell College and Syracuse University.
In the adventure of being a Clay Aiken fan, I have also supported the Bubel/Aiken Foundation, now known as the National Inclusion Project (NIP), as well as Unicef USA. I've gone along with a lot of Clay's "asks," including donating to Unicef recently for aid to children victimized by the floods in Pakistan.
I also went along with that Cookie company promo last year, wherein you rounded up as many of your e-mail addresses as possible to vote for NIP in a competition among thousands of nonprofit groups. The good news is that NIP won $10,000. The bad news is all the e-mail spam I get from the Cookie company.
I chose not to participate in this year's corporate scheme (Pepsi's) to collect active e-mail addresses, in spite of the fact that NIP and other worthy organizations had the potential to win some money. I also chose not to attend this year's gala "Champions of Change" fundraiser, because when I did so last year, it was a lot of money that I could not divert to the other organizations I've committed to.
Again, these are my choices. Other people have committed to these activities. Good! I'm certainly not saying other people shouldn't do it. I'm just saying I'm not doing it.
Anyway, here's my own little roundup of current commitments (not just Facebook fandoms):
World Future Society (where I've worked for 29 years)
Grinnell College alumni
Syracuse University alumni
USS Emmons Association (my father's shipmates)
Smithsonian Institution
National Museum of African American History and Culture
National Museum of Women in the Arts
Theatre Communications Group
John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts
Round House Theatre
Ford's Theatre
Corcoran Gallery of Art
Phillips Collection
WETA (Public Television and FM classical music)
MPT (Maryland Public Television)
love, hosaa
committing
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