Eternal Equinox of A Midsummer Dream

This will have to be a two-parter.

Chapter 1, Wherein I Meetup with Shakespeare Explorers

... for a Kennedy Center performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream by Bristol Old Vic and the Handspring Puppet Company (who previously collaborated on War Horse).

This was the second Midsummer I've seen with the Explorers, and the two productions really only shared Mr. Shakespeare's text. That's the thing about dreams--always open to interpretation, reinterpretation, new visions, and new magic. While much of the success of any Midsummer begins and ends with the antics of Bottom the Ass (and BOV's Miltos Yerolemou displayed a wondrously versatile ass), so many aspects of this production were so extraordinary that it was impossible to refrain from standing up and cheering.

Via Kennedy Center

My favorite innovation here was the multi-actor/appliance casting of Puck. As a sprite, Puck was depicted coming and going in a most ephemeral way--with each of three actors bearing pieces of his being (assorted gardening tools) coming together and flying apart.

A wonderful time at the theater with some great folks to talk to, before and after. And that wasn't even the most exciting part of the night for me.


Chapter 2, Wherein I Make another Connection to Edward Duke

So this is also the second time in recent months I got to meet someone who once worked with Edward. (For the story of the first, which happened last December, go here and scroll to my brief encounter with Keith Baxter.)

During the intermission of last night's show, I was chatting with one of my Meetuppers about the musical she is writing--not a professional work, she caveated, but something that captured her imagination to the extent of having completed the lyrics for five songs.

As sometimes happens in theaters with awkward sightlines and a few available seats closer to the action, a gentleman from farther back asked to take a space next to my friend. So we continued our conversation, including our new neighbor. He volunteered that he, too, was a playwright.

Oh, anything we would have seen around here?

Um, a few ... and on Broadway. (Our amateur eyes lit up.) ... "Crazy for You"...

I literally gasped. I LOVED that!!  It took me a moment to summon the name. KEN???

The gentleman then introduced himself while I was heartily shaking his hand: Ken Ludwig.

Ken Ludwig, photo by Leslie Cashen

As Midsummer's second act began, I couldn't stop searching my memory banks to confirm that this was the playwright of Sullivan and Gilbert, which featured Edward Duke in the role of the stagestruck Alfred, son of Victoria.

So after the performance was over, our standing ovation segueing into heading for the exits, I asked Ken to confirm my memory, which he did. And I got to remind him that it was in fact in this very same theater (the Eisenhower) that his Sullivan and Gilbert was performed. It was the first time I met Edward, who had actually called me up at my office to invite me! (My recap of meeting Edward is here.)

Ken smiled and told me what a sweet man Edward was. They spent a lot of fun times together when the show opened in Toronto. "Very sweet man."

All of this made me very happy. But as it happens, Ken has a further connection with us: Shakespeare!

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Love, hosaa

Always connecting

March (haiku)

March

 Fog shimmers agog
reveals baby blues and pinks
swaddling morning's birth

It Happens When You Make Plans

"What is Life, Alex?"

Sadly, the Michael Bolton concert was canceled due to illness, but I'm not as inconvenienced as probably a lot of concert goers are since I only live 15 minutes (or three and a half Clay Aiken songs) from the venue.

Get well, Michael. Now I get to see the Oscars in my pajamas. (How they'll all fit in my pajamas, I don't know.)

I should take this opportunity to catch up, but the shows are over or ending soon, so there doesn't seem much point. But for the record, what I haven't caught up on are the following:

Chaplin's Back--a screening of The Idle Class and The Kid with Chaplin's original scores performed by the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Marin Alsop conducting. 

An Evening with Patti LuPone and Mandy Patinkin--two old pros, old friends, telling the story of a relationship through concert versions of show songs.

Violet--musical journey of a young woman hoping a televangelist will heal her scarred face, and of her awakening to love without prejudice.

The Importance of Being Earnest--where the wit of Wilde is the star of the show, but the sets were gorgeous, too.

I'm a sucker for simplicity in stagecraft, but both Violet and Earnest were stunning. In the case of Violet at Ford's, the sets were evolving constantly with the journey, both geographically and temporally.

With Earnest at STC's Lansburgh venue, the stunningly beautiful works of art that were Algie's London flat (Act I) and the garden behind Jack's country house (Acts II and III) were by necessity static. Too elaborate to move, for one thing, but also it would be terribly distracting from the dialogue if there were a lot of movement on stage. The whole point of the play is to hear the aphorisms that Wilde so masterfully crafted. Put the actors on their spots and let them say the lines clearly so the audience can pay attention.

I've argued this point whenever I see dance movies that have a lot of camera movement. Drives me crazy. When the subject is in motion, keep the camera still.

The same strategy worked for the Patti and Mandy show. It was about their relationship, and what they brought out of the music to tell that story. They were accompanied by Paul Ford, Mandy's pianist/musical director, and a bass (didn't catch the name and it's not in the program. Sorry). The simplicity of this arrangement kept the focus squarely on Patti and Mandy. My favorite part was when Mandy introduced the Evita section by telling the story of their both auditioning for what would become their iconic and career-making roles and how nervous they were before the first preview performance. Mandy reassured Patti then that he would be her friend--and they still are. Definitely an awww moment, and very touching, no matter how often they tell the exact same story to other audiences.

Working backwards to the Chaplin show--what a great way to see a movie. The music is often my favorite thing about a film (see, for instance, my comments about The Right Stuff), and if it's done right, it doesn't draw attention to itself. The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra gorgeously played this music, which Chaplin, astonishingly, composed 50 years after the films were made.

Which is another point I've argued before: that art evolves and lives to inspire other artists.

Love, hosaa
stuffing Oscars into my pajamas.... or something