Nutcracker Versus The Rats

Back from the first preview performance last night of Round House Theatre's production of The Nutcracker, subtitled "A New Holiday Musical" in the banner ads, but unofficially subtitled, "No, Not That Nutcracker."

Not that that Nutcracker doesn't already have a mad kaleidoscope of variations available for public display, at least in the dance world. Those of us who grew up with the Baryshnikov version (with his then-girlfriend Gelsey Kirkland as Clara dancing all the juiciest roles) are sometimes surprised by the many different ways that the story and the steps can be rearranged. The one that made the most sense to me (and yes, even fantasy needs to make sense) was the Washington Ballet's version at GWU's Lisner Auditorium a couple of decades ago.

The RHT's production of the Hoffmann fairy tale focuses on a family tragedy that interrupts Christmas, and its impacts on the impressionable Clara (is it a nightmare or a nervous breakdown?). At least one major plot point is retained here, in Clara's defeat of the Rat King. (At last year's Joffrey overproduction, if Clara threw her slipper at the fiend, I missed it in the busyness of the stagecraft.)

Oh, sorry, should that have had a spoiler alert? No, the real spoiler here is in the design and staging of the Rat King himself. Honestly, that was my favorite part of this production.

Less successful to me were the fits and starts in the scenes, some empty aural and visual gaps, and a few technical glitches and unevenness in the actors' body mics. Those could just be early-in-the-run issues, but there was just an overall unevenness in the tone throughout.

Even the costume design seemed uneven, with all the imagination going into the dolls and rats, and the "contemporary" family dressed in generic Mid-Twentieth-Century Nostalgia.

I would also like to have seen the musicians and conductor, since this production actually bothered to have live music!

Costume sketch for "Phoebe" doll by Helen Huang (Costume and Puppet Designer), image via Facebook

But the dolls and rats were all delightful, though of course it's disappointing to see a couple of my favorite actors (Erin Weaver, Will Gartshore) buried in makeup design. Oh, well. Their talent couldn't be buried. The Phoebe doll (Weaver) used her pull-chord-triggered recorded phrases with assertive, plot-turning emphasis: "I'm afraid of the dark!" (Cue: hey, let's turn on the lights.)

The updated story no doubt touches a chord in most families--dealing with the loss of a loved one at holiday time. I'm just not sure it's a great way to start celebrating the holidays. Sometimes we just need to make cookies.

Love, hosaa
making cookies

The Nutcracker
Round House Theatre, Bethesda, Maryand, through December 28, 2014
Director: Joe Clarco
Created by Tommy Rapley, Jake Minton (book and lyrics), Phillip Klapperich (book), and Kevin O’Donnell (music), based on the story by E.T.A. Hoffmann

Cast:
Clara: Lauren Williams
David (Clara's father), Rat, Teddy: Mitchell Hébert
Martha (Clara's mother), Rat, dance captain: Sherri L. Edelen
Drosselmeyer, Rat: Lawrence Redmond
Fritz, Nutcracker: Vincent Kempski
Monkey (sock toy): Will Gartshore
Hugo (robot toy): Evan Casey
Phoebe (doll): Erin Weaver

Music director: William Yanesh
Scenic designer: James Kronzer
Costume and pupped designer: Helen Huang
Lighting designer: Daniel MacLean Wagner
Sound designer: Matthew M. Nielsen
Props master: Jennifer Crier Johnston
Dramaturg: Sarah Scafidi

Reflections: Art Day Out and Old Friends

Always take the opportunity, when you can, to let art expose itself to you. Downtown for an "informational interview" yesterday, afterwards I found myself once again in the neighborhood of the divine National Museum of Women in the Arts, where I got to visit a few of my old friends - Alice Neel, Frida Kahlo, Elaine de Kooning, Lee Krasner, et al.

I also took more time with some other, iconic pieces in the New York Avenue mansion, including Ellen Day Hale and Lilla Cabot Perry occupying this cozy niche:

Another is Alice Bailly, whose selfie features a peculiar reflection across the lens of her monocle:

Alice Bailly (Swiss, 1872-1938). Self-Portrait, 1917. 

According to the caption, this side of her face is apparently painted out, "reflecting what may be a dissociation of the artist from her own image--in short, an identity crisis." More likely, IMO, it reflects a real reflection, the movement of light across her face at that moment in time. That is, after all, what cubism and the futurist movement were about, incorporating the third and fourth dimensions on flat 2-D surfaces.

But the greatest pleasure is in welcoming some newer (new to me) sisters now exhibiting in the third floor permanent collection, including these sadly sweet kiddies by Amy Sherald:

Amy Sherald (b. 1973, Columbus, Georgia). They Call Me Redbone But I'd Rather Be Strawberry Shortcake, 2009

Amy Sherald (b. 1973, Columbus, Georgia). It Made Sense...Mostly in Her Mind, 2011. 

The captions were helpful to me here; the flattened style was the result of treating the skin tones in "grayscale" (there is some tint, you can see, even in these very poor reproductions. Sorry). The children are dressed playfully, but their somber and expressionless demeanor illustrates a deep-seated sadness. Still, the bright, primary colors in which they "play" give me a sense of innocent hope for them.

The other piece that captivated me at the museum was this (again, playful) Edwina Sandys bronze in its own stairwell niche:

Edwina Sandys (b. 1938, London, England). Flirtation, 1994.

Edwina Sandys (b. 1938, London, England). Flirtation, 1994.

Edwina Sandys (b. 1938, London, England). Flirtation, 1994.

I don't suppose the fact that I'd just had pears and bananas for breakfast had anything to do with why this piece caught my eye! Face it, who doesn't like flirty, birdlike fruit.

The second floor was closed off for between-exhibitions reconfiguring, so my visit was a little shorter than I would have liked. (And when, oh when, will the Mezzanine Cafe ever serve food? Nary a morsel in any of my visits.)

So over the blocks I go toward the Smithsonian American Art Museum to see what's what, and what was what now was the fabulous Richard Estes exhibit. Speaking of old friends! Estes was among the "superrealists" I covered in my senior year seminar on modern art. That was decades ago, and the man is still working his magic!

Okay, I don't want to go to Copyright Jail, so go here to see an example of what Alice Bailly started with that reflection in her monocle:

https://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/estes

Bus With Reflection of Flatiron Building (1966-67)

Checkout (2012)

What we see are multiple images, reflected, contorted by other, overlapping realities. In many of the images, people are seen from different angles. The effect of the pictures, though serene in tone, is a taut reminder that we not only see, but are seen by others, whose eyes may see us in twists and turns, fractured and filtered through many surfaces.

Love, hosaa

reflecting on art

P.S. - I still love the old Greyhound Bus Station on New York Avenue. The birds loved it, too:

All photos posted here are by C. G. Wagner. If you use them, credit them, and link back here. Thanks.