The fact that I'm about a week and a half late in reporting this is somewhat telling. My friend really wanted to go to the Keane concert at our favorite concert hall, the Strathmore, and needed a buddy to go with her.
I know nothing about Keane, though she insisted I probably had heard their music at some point in my life. There's a pet food commercial that has licensed one of their tunes, I believe.
Anyway, the opening band was louder, but Keane had better production. The lead singer was a cutie, there was a backbeat, and the place was packed. Everyone stood except for us little old ladies. We slid over to a side section to rest our backs.
The show was enjoyable. Glad I went. I still haven't picked up the "Thank You" download from the little postcard, though. Amazon link to the album Strangeland
Since I wasn't all that into the music (no objections to it), I spent my time experimenting with the settings on my camera, in preparation for the next Clay Aiken tour. *biggrin*
As you can see from the results below, the high-sensitivity setting on my old Lumix is very noisy. I bought a new camera yesterday and hope for better results at the next event I need to cover in low light.
KEANE at the Strathmore (Bethesda, MD), June 14, 2012 Click to enlarge. All photos by C. G. Wagner / Hosaa's Blog. Please credit if used!
Happy Birthday to Edward Duke, who would have been 59 today. Your voice will live on in my heart and continue telling me stories.
As luck would have it, copies of the long-out-of-business Buckingham Classics "Jeeves Takes Charge" audiobook are still available on the resale market.
And a special treat for all Edward Duke fans, a Hosaa's Blog exclusive excerpt:
A day or two late in posting my recap of the Thursday night preview performance of Round House Theatre's rendition of the noir classic Double Indemnity.
First of all, I was absolutely thrilled to open the program and see that the production would star one of my all-time favorite RHT actors, Mr. Marty Lodge.
Marty Lodge, via IMDb
I've been a fan of Marty's since RHT's 2001 production of George F. Walker's Problem Child, and my admiration was cemented with his tour-de-force performance in The Drawer Boy (2003). Marty has a sly, wry, hangdog overcoat covering a sincerely sinister underbelly.
The problem with this production is that its surprises invoked laughter. I'm not sure why. The sexual tension between Marty and co-star Celeste Ciulla never sparked for me, so the mutual seduction between the characters Huff and Phyllis erupted too suddenly. Rather than taking our breaths, it punched out a surprised rumble of laughter in our audience.
The obvious comparison is to the classic film version of Double Indemnity, which grips you by the throat and never lets go. There is not a single laugh in the picture, though the exchanges are incredibly witty. Sample dialogue (not occurring in the RHT production; and ignore the name change, Huff/Marty Lodge versus Neff/Fred MacMurray):
Phyllis: Mr. Neff, why don't you drop by tomorrow evening about eight-thirty. He'll be in then.
(A side note from the audience: I'm pleased with myself for being the one in our area who, during intermission, could answer the question of who starred in the film: Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck. I even remembered Edward G. Robinson as the insurance guy, Fred MacMurray's supervisor, investigating the case.)
So I'm not sure what to tell you about this production. I liked it, but don't go in expecting a live, 3-D recreation of the movie. The ending is even different, though I don't exactly recall the movie's ending. I just know this wasn't it.
Written by James M. Cain
Adapted for the stage by David Pichette and R. Hamilton Wright
Directed by Eleanor Holdridge
Cast: Marty Lodge as Huff Celeste Ciulla as Phyllis Todd Scofield as Nirlinger and Keyes Molly Cahill Govern as Lola and secretary Danny Gavigan as Nino, Jackson, and Norton
ETA, Happy 10th Anniversary, RHT-Bethesda!
photo by C. G. Wagner - permission to reproduce is granted provided credit is given
First, the disclaimer: I am a card-carrying Clay Aiken fan. Truly. The card is in my wallet.
As a fan, I've been able to follow other, more-resourceful fans' investigations into Clay's various activities, and so I've actually been "watching" this season of Donald Trump's Celebrity Apprentice not for three months, but for about seven months. The taping for the 2012 spring season took place over the course of about six weeks last fall, concluding with the final task just before Thanksgiving.
So at least I knew Clay (and Arsenio Hall) would be in the final two. This made watching the show itself less stressful. But it did not make the episodes more entertaining. It was an education in the underbelly of what passes for business in the entertainment world.
As my friend and colleague Patrick said, "Celebrity Apprentice is to Business what circus clown cars are to Transportation."
So let me ramble a little here and try to pull out what business lessons there are from this show.
1. Celebrity sells. See title of show. We got our first sense of the importance of celebrity (or, as they call it in business, "branding") when a contestant with the legendary name of Andretti did not volunteer to be the project manager for the Buick Verano product introduction. Instead, the project manager was the player with the most knowledge about the product, and--despite the opposing team's abominable lack of knowledge about the product (even mispronouncing it as "Verona,") both Michael Andretti and Adam Carolla were fired. They failed to deliver Trump and Buick the desired celebrity endorsement. (And it was the patriarchal legend Mario Andretti who was invited to "chauffeur" Mr. Trump to the live finale.)
Arsenio's strategy was to deliver celebrity to the Trump project in the form of the name of his charity: The Magic Johnson Foundation. What's that for? one might legitimately ask if one does not know that the basketball legend is a long-term HIV survivor. It's simply not immediately clear what the foundation does, only that it is named for a celebrity.
In contrast, Clay Aiken originally named the foundation that he co-founded in 2003 "The Bubel/Aiken Foundation." Though he agreed to use his own name (presumably to help shine his newfound celebrity spotlight onto the organization), he gave his co-founder, Diane Bubel, priority. Later, hoping to clarify the Foundation's mission in its name (and give it an identity of its own), the organization was rebranded as the National Inclusion Project.
My personal opinion is that the rebranding kind of worked and kind of didn't. I could see why Clay and the Foundation's board felt it necessary to keep the focus on the mission and not rely on Clay's name, but I don't think "Inclusion" is self-explanatory. Include what? Include whom? and why "national" only? Is that self-limiting?
Another important point about the non-celebrity way in which the National Inclusion Project (nee Bubel/Aiken Foundation) was formed is that its blueprints were drafted by Clay in the form of an independent project to complete his special-education degree. It wasn't really real until his fans sent in checks (and flung them attached to panties onto the stage while he was performing during the American Idol Tour in 2003). It was a gift to Clay that would give to many other deserving kids.
But, as I said, celebrity sells. As Entertainment Weekly blogger Dalton Ross observes in his recap of the final challenge, to create a public-service ad for their respective charities:
Now that Arsenio had his Magic money shot, whose ad would come out on top? To me, this one wasn’t even close. Clay’s was earnest and fine. ... It went for tears rather than cheers. It also was a bit of information overload. ... The ad wasn’t bad, but it kind of looked like every other charity PSA you’ve ever seen — one that makes you feel vaguely bad about yourself for not helping disadvantaged people more before you find yourself being blissfully distracted from such unpleasantness by a delicious bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos.
2. Advertising is out. Integration is in. Every episode of Celebrity Apprentice is a product placement. The deals are apparently struck with these advertising partners long before the celebrities are selected and tasked. That's the script. But these performers are creative people and often either don't pay attention to the script or go their own way. Or they screw up, as when Penn Jillette inadvertently referred to Walgreen's as Wal-Mart--in front of the Walgreen reps, during the presentation.
So that is a risk that the show takes with its sponsors. Some work out (there is a pitcher of Crystal Light Peach Bellini cooling in my refrigerator, thanks to Clay's "Life's a Beach Peach" beach party product launch) and some don't (the failure to deliver an Andretti endorsement on a Buick).
Sometimes I think the producers and the partners/advertisers threw out the diamonds when they were panning for gold. Lou Ferrigno's O-Cedar Pro-Mist video was cute as hell, but criticized for being more of a traditional commercial than a "viral video." Lou won the task anyway, but the bottom line is that the sponsor wanted free advertising on YouTube rather than something they would have to pay to place during an actual TV program. When the episode was repeated later in the week on CNBC, the commercials were for Swifter products. And I can't find a single Pro-Mist in any store near me.
3. To compete, you must cooperate. Not a new lesson, really. It's the principle behind every sports team and every military action. Teams work. Clay and Arsenio both understood this, and their management styles ultimately were about ensuring that their teams won the challenges, no matter what. As leaders, though, their styles were very different. Which leads to Lesson
4. Delegation isn't deferral, and good managers aren't control freaks. Just because you were assigned a specific portion of a task doesn't mean you don't have to report to your project manager. Your work must fit in with the big picture, and that requires supervision. I'm talking to you, Debbie Gibson and Aubrey O'Day!
5. Play for this task, not the next. Time after time in the boardroom, project managers on the losing teams were asked who should be fired. Time after time, the PMs wanted to pick the stronger, more versatile players to keep, even if they made a mistake, and let go the less-versatile players, even if they did nothing wrong. Time after time, Trump cut off that line of reasoning and focused on the mistakes:
- The "Success" cologne executives "hated" Penn's suggestion of "You earned it" as a slogan, and he was fired.
- The Crystal Light executives "hated" the fact that their logo was too small on a poster, and Patricia Velasquez was fired.
- The Walgreen executives "hated" the box design by Dee Snider, and he, too, was fired.
Penn, Dee, and Patricia had all previously won their tasks as PMs and proved to be strong players. It didn't matter. Trump had a zero-tolerance policy for mistakes (unless, of course, the mistakes were made when Trump wasn't ready to fire the celebrity at hand).
In tallying up the "scorecard" of wins and losses, Trump looked only at the number of victories that Arsenio and Clay had earned as project managers, not at how those victories were achieved. And the final task was never added into the score, leaving Arsenio with an extra win over Clay.
This "lesson," by the way, is one that should not be learned, IMO. It makes no sense to me. While there is virtue in focusing on the task at hand, you need your talent for the future.
6. Ego trumps talent. Again, a "lesson" that needs to not be learned. And here I'm waving my Clay Aiken Fan card at you. Clay didn't kiss up enough to Trump and lost despite superior performance.
Like Clay Aiken, I come at these views of business practice from a different angle, that of nonprofit organizations. Clay jumped right in with the Integration business model, developing strong partnerships with like-minded youth service organizations. He knew what he was doing, and it works. So the lesson of Clay Aiken School of Business is:
Oh boy, another "catch up" post, you say? No, these productions really do have some things in common.
Crown of Shadows, the new (world premiere) production at Round House, is subtitled The Wake of Odysseus, and is a modernization of the story of Penelope and her son, Telemachus, who needs to grow the hell up before the state makes this presumed widow marry a despicable new king.
Normally I would come home after the play (which I saw on my usual Preview Thursday subscription night last week) and give a bit of a recap. But truthfully, I was tired, the play itself was draining, and I was distracted by the actress who played the ambitious little schoolgirl/love interest because she reminded me too much of my niece (incidentally a two-year RHT student summer program alum).
Julia Proctor (as Calliope) with Michael Morrow Hammack (as Telemachus), courtesy of Round House Theatre Facebook page.
I recognized Ms. Proctor right away from her previous RHT performance in The Picture of Dorian Gray (which apparently I didn't recap back when I saw it in 2009, though I can say I liked it a LOT better than the Washington Post's reviewer did). The characters she played were strikingly similar, both in their naive ambition and in their ill-fates.
Her resemblance to my niece was particularly disturbing because it made me realize that, as a then-aspiring actress, Rachel may have had to make some difficult casting decisions. With both Crown and Dorian, Ms. Proctor was required to simulate being sexually assaulted, with semi-nudity involved. Though I didn't discuss these choices with Rachel, I knew they never would have been hers. Just as well she switched from theater to business major.
I'll note also that I continue to enjoy seeing familiar actors in shows around town. Crown had a bit of a Sabrina Fair cast reunion, as both Proctor and Hammack had minor roles in the latter. (And, in checking my SF program, I see our pal Tom Story --from RHT's Next Fall, Ford's 1776--also played son of privilege, David Larabee.)
So this little segue leads me to the connection in the productions mentioned in the title of this post. And here I confess it isn't a particularly profound conclusion: In all of these, I see the corrosive effects of not power, but privilege.
In Richard III, which was read yesterday by my Shakespeare Readers group, I was especially struck by the differences between King Richard's battlefield speech and that of Richmond.
Richmond (oration to his Army): ... If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; If you do fight against your country's foes, Your country's fat shall pay your pains the hire; ...
compared to a baser appeal from the tyrant himself
Richard (oration to his Army): ... Remember whom you are to cope withal; A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways, A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants, Whom their o'ever-cloyed country vomits forth To desperate ventures and assured destruction. ...
Don't worry, I won't belabor it for Titanic 3D - just think of the Cal Hockley character (played by Billy Zane). As with Telemachus and Richard, any attempt to deny his privilege of property is met with a pathological descent to subhuman violence.
Which brings us to Celebrity Apprentice. I've been wanting to talk about this show from the business perspective, but as my friend Patrick aptly pointed out, Celebrity Apprentice is to business as circus clown cars are to Transportation.
Heh!
Now, you know I am only watching this crap because of Clay Aiken. And while Trump and his privileged offspring are actually very well behaved compared with most of the celebrities (Clay most definitely excluded), the aggressive sense of entitlement is just simmering below their waxy surfaces. Though they clearly have several brain cells among the three of them, and are trained in spotting weakness, their main talent is telling Daddy Trump what he wants to hear. God forbid they lose their entitlements by displeasing the king.
As evidence I present to you Failure to Launch (video of full episode available on NBC.com until June 4), in which Daddy Trump petulantly fires Adam Carolla for the sin of not being surnamed Andretti (racing royalty), and Andretti for not being as smart about cars as his name would imply, thus displeasing the brand, Buick, that wanted an Andretti endorsement on the cheap.
Look at the presentations of the two teams (the "winning" team mispronounced the Buick product being sold, among other flubs), and then look at the childrens Trump telling Daddy that he did the right thing.
Okay, I'm done. I have no privilege, so I'm just a yammering jealous little what-not. And I still love Clay Aiken. *g*
I'm now officially a resident of Ford's Theatre: I'm receiving mail there. Hee! Thanks to my buying my ticket for 1776 at the box office instead of TicketBastard, they had my membership information handy. So when I got to my seat yesterday for the matinee, there was an envelope taped to the arm rest. Inside was a very sweet note thanking me for my support, along with a tiny box of mints.
One of the other benefits of membership besides a permanent address) is being able to get tickets to the new education center across the street. Still, as I looked out at the huge long line to get into the center, I thought I'd wait a bit longer before making the attempt. The mission to support "preserving the past for the future" is one I can certainly get behind.
As an official resident of at least two theaters (the other being the Round House in Bethesda), I'm getting used to seeing familiar faces, so if there is any connection to be made between this production of 1776 and the last production I saw at RHT--Next Fall--it runs through actor Tom Story (link to year-old WaPo interview).
Tom Story ("Congressional Secretary"), with cast of the Continental Congress, 1776. Photo by Carol Rosegg for Ford's Theatre
Tom Story ("Adam") and Kathryn Kelley ("Arlene"), in Next Fall. Photo by Danisha Crosby for Round House Theatre
Other than one actor, you'd think these two plays had nothing in common. But they do in fact have much in common. Next Fall focused on the relationship between a gay Christian man ("Luke," played by Chris Dinolfo) and the parents (played by Kathryn Kelley and Kevin Cutts) whom he was unable to come out to, as well as between him and his atheist lover ("Adam," played by our Tom Story).
The fear of "otherness" is a strong theme in Next Fall--the otherness of sexual orientation and the otherness of religious belief. Fear of rejection, fear of differences, all lead to self-fulfilling prophecies.
In 1776, the differences between the property owners and the idealists were made more marked when the true issue came down to the otherness of the black slaves themselves. To the property owners (and it's not just a Southern thing--the leading "Cool Conservative" was Ben Franklin's fellow Pennsylvanian, Dickinson), it was about preserving wealth and status, which they argued encouraged the pursuit of wealth for all. (I'm pretty sure that's still a major argument for conservatives' tenets.)
The "Cool Conservatives," 1776. Photo by Carol Rosegg
Ultimately, in order for the Declaration of Independence to be accepted by the conservatives, the passage declaring freedom for black slaves had to be removed.
Which eventually led, of course, to the Civil War. And a century later, it could be argued, to the killing of Trayvon Martin, an unarmed black kid, by a white "neighborhood watch" coordinator. Similarly, it is the fear of the otherness of sexual orientation that has led to the bullying of, and subsequent suicides by, young gay kids like Tyler Clementi.
Fear of otherness continues to divide the United States of America. Unity must come from within our own hearts and minds. And that means keeping both wide open, regardless of our fears.
I'm probably as much a coward as any other white suburban matron. But I don't want to live in a world where middle-aged white ladies should automatically be fearful of young black men. Two episodes:
Sometime last year I was coming home by subway from a play. It was probably something at Shakespeare Theater, as it was a Sunday night. The evening before that, I'd just seen the bio-drama I Wish You Love about Nat King Cole at the Kennedy Center, which touched on the very same issues. So the issues of racism and distrust were very much on my mind as I headed for the elevator up from the Bethesda Metro platform that night.
I was alone on the elevator as the doors began to close, but then a young black guy (not wearing a hoodie, but still ...) got on the elevator with me. I had no time to even think about getting off, but I had already made up my mind not to fear a young black guy getting on a lonely elevator with me late at night. I didn't want to live in a world where a young black guy automatically frightens middle-aged white women. And I didn't want him to think we lived in that world, either.
So the dude stood near the front of the elevator, busy with whatever was on his phone, and kept his back to me. Forty-five seconds later, the door opened; he went off his way, and I went mine.
Everyone I told this story to at the time told me I should have gotten off the elevator when he got on. Sigh.
Then a few weeks ago, before going to a show at Shakespeare Theater (which is at the Gallery Place Metro), I killed some time by darting into the McDonald's at Verizon Center to have a quick bite. There was a hockey game that night, too, so the joint was jumping. There was a big group of young black dudes horsing around, not eating much, just there. They were very lively and enjoying themselves. I sat down in the section on the other side of the front door from them, and a (black) security guard came and stood right next to me, apparently blocking the kids' view of me.
I thought at first it was just because he wanted to be near the door. But later, a young black mother sat at my table (it was crowded, she asked if she could share). She and the security guard exchanged a word or two--the mother didn't feel safe at all with the black kids cutting up in the restaurant. The security guard shrugged his shoulders and said to the mother, "Well, she just sat down here."
Meaning me. Meaning, he came over to guard me because I was too stupid to know that I wasn't supposed to be there, that I wasn't safe.
I tried to reassure the mother that there was nothing to be afraid of--those kids were just "up" and enjoying themselves. They were ogling all the girls who came into the restaurant, calling them "dreamgirls" and what-not.
Anyway, for all of the lack of understanding that the security guard and the mother had about me, and all the lack of understanding that I had about that particular place and its citizens, I didn't want it to be about fear of otherness.
That's what freedom is all about, and if our Founding Fathers had known that, it might have happened for everyone a lot earlier.
David Selby as Abraham Lincoln and Craig Wallace as Frederick Douglass in the Ford’s Theatre world premiere production of “Necessary Sacrifices,” directed by Jennifer L. Nelson. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.
Back from my traditional Sunday Matinee in February at Ford's trip, this year to see Necessary Sacrifices, starring David Selby (reprising his Lincoln from Ford's acclaimed Heavens Are Hung in Black) and Craig Wallace as Frederick Douglass (last seen at Ford's in Sabrina Fair).
I loved the familiarity of these two actors, even though Wallace had evidently been a last minute replacement. There's something special about seeing an artist try new things. In this case, Selby was honing the characterization he'd earlier applied in Heavens, playing Lincoln as increasingly contorted by pain and struggling for physical strength to match his moral strength.
With so much physicality going on in Selby's performance, it was a good thing that Wallace was probably more focused on his lines--it would have been too distracting if he'd been doing the same kind of dance that Selby's Lincoln was.
The language is complicated because the ideas are complex. I had the same feeling about The Rivalry, Ford's 2010 staging of the legendary debates between Lincoln and the other Douglas, Stephen. The staging in that case was very similar to that of Frayn's Copenhagen, as the characters orbited and echoed and challenged each other with gestures minimized.
The complexity of the issues that our Lincoln and Douglass were struggling with required them to challenge each other, and to admit that they are both human, both subject to heartbreak and humiliation, pride and blind spots. Though they would agree that the Civil War was ultimately about abolition, the actual execution of that goal was never so simple as saying "you're free." (Freedom without security was as much a threat to the black man as the loss of "property" that this freedom meant was to the confederates.)
There were a couple of times when I thought I saw the actors glimpse up at the President's box to catch a nod or grimace from that lingering, tormented soul. Maybe it was just me.
Even though Ford's is abandoning some of its past theatrical choices (no more Hot Mikado, I gather), I always feel the presence of my "Jeeves" in this very special space. Edward Duke told me that Sunday matinees were always the "worst houses." So when I say there was a rousing standing ovation for Selby and Wallace, I like to think Lincoln wasn't the only ghost smiling.
