To Fly

Back from Fly at Ford's, based on the story of the Tuskegee Airmen.

cast of FLY ~ photograph by Scott Suchman

 

I loved the production but was particularly impressed with the use of dance as a character and as a dramaturgical choice. It's an element that is unexpected in a non-musical but always adds richness and dimension. As the non-speaking tapping narrator, Omar Edwards was powerfully expressive.

Omar Edwards ~ photograph by Scott Suchman

 

In one scene, slowed down to a series of gestures, the black airmen are selected to guard the white bombers in a mission over Berlin. The blacks teach the whites their ritual of writing down their fears and throwing the paper into a fire; they are ultimately united by their fear, their bravery, their duty, and their freedom in flight.

It's truly an inspiring story, but Fly does not shy away from depicting the racism that the men faced. Ford's veteran actor James Konicek ("Captain O'Hurley"/"Instructor 2") seems to be called on frequently for these types of white-bigot characters. The heart-in-throat moment, though, came from Matt Bassett as one of the white bombers telling the black airman escorting him, "I'm sorry," an apology for having witnessed a lynching triggered by an incident at his father's store.

The small Sunday matinee audience gave the men a standing ovation. I wouldn't mind seeing this again, if only to try another seat. Honestly, are there any good seats at Ford's? I was in A-110 in the balcony, where the guard rail blocked half my view of the stage. I moved back a couple of rows and over a bit, still couldn't see around people and pillars.

No action on the Ford's stage should ever take place within 10 yards of the edge closest to the audience. Upstage is good. *g*

Still straining to see, I ended up in the second to last row of the balcony, which is where I fell in love with Ford's Theatre in the first place.

FLY plays at Ford's Theatre through October 21.
Written by Trey Ellis and Ricardo Khan.
Directed by Ricardo Kahn.

Cast:
Omar Edwards as Tap Griot
Christopher Wilson as Chet Simpkins
Eric Berryman as W.W.
Mark Hairston as Oscar (also dance captain)
Damian Thompson as J. Allen
James Konicek as Captain O'Hurley/Instructor 2
Matt Bassett as Staff Sergeant/Instructor 1/Barman/Bomber Co-Pilot Shaw (also fight captain)
Clark Young as Instructor 3/Colonel Snopes/Bomber Pilot Reynolds

love, hosaa
theater-flyer

 

 

 





Haunting Tigers

Late again to recap the Thursday preview performance of Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, now playing at Round House Theatre in Bethesda.

Danny Gavigan and Felipe Cabezas, photo by Danisha Crosby

Eric Hissom (the Tiger) by Danisha Crosby

Maboud Ebrahimzadeh and Pomme Koche, by Danisha Crosby

Maboud Ebrahimzadeh, by Danisha Crosby

I will say first that this powerful play was powerfully performed in spite of a sleepy weeknight audience. There are times when I think a production can be too overpowering for its audience. We sat there in the dark for far too long before erupting into polite applause. I felt sad for the actors, who were nothing short of phenomenal.

Such is the theatrical experience.

The play delivered what I thought was lacking in last year's ravages-of-war production, ReEntry.  The latter offered monologue memories of what happened "over there," while the Baghdad Tiger shows what happened, both internally and externally, for the soldiers grittily but poignantly played by Danny Gavigan and Filipe Cabezas. The lesson is that moral questioning doesn't end with death, and that guilt lives on to haunt us.

Eric Hissom as the anthropomorphic Tiger achieves enlightenment in death but remains the creature of basic needs that he was born to be. "Heaven," he determines, is simply where he is not hungry.

The deteriorating garden where translator Musa (Maboud Ebrahimzadeh) has constructed his fantastic topiary "zoo" is both "God's garden" to the Tiger and Uday Hussein (Pomme Koche)'s garden, a tribute to ego and self-indulgence (and a place to lure Musa's young sister to her ruin).

Again, responding simply as a member of the audience, I wish my friends could have shared the experience with me. (Some can't tolerate the violence, others the cussing). It wasn't escapist entertainment with a tune to whistle the rest of the week. It was what theater, to me, is supposed to be: a place to feel something and experience something and think about something I would not otherwise feel, experience, or think. And it haunts, long after the darkness descends.

Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo by Rajiv Joseph, directed by Jeremy Skidmore, plays through September 30, 2012.

Cast
Tiger: Eric Hissom
Tom: Danny Gavigan
Kev: Felipe Cabezas
Mousa: Maboud Ebrahimzadeh
Uday: Pomme Koche
Hadia/Iraqi Teenager/Nurse: Salma Shaw
Iraqi woman: Nadia Mahdi

Kudos also to the sound designer, Eric Shimelonis, for just a fantastic, full-immersion aural experience.

Art Out of the Closet--and Drawers

The decluttering project is unearthing some long-buried "works" by her own self. The file cabinet yielded multiple copies of early drafts of oft-rejected stories, along with their respective rejection slips.

Much of this is getting tossed. I saved a few originals (and the rejection slips, in case I become "a cult failure").

And out of the closet come the canvases from my studio work at college, all with their respective layers of grime and dust. The ones that were in the closet are now in the trash. Just because I can't really throw things away, I took a few photos.

Click on thumbnails to enlarge. (And if you're tempted to use them, please credit: C. G. Wagner.)

There was one that was in the closet that I think I'll keep. The caption (added long after the class) is what saved it:

I have six canvases from that era that are still on my walls (for now):

  Detail:

  Detail:

And these are behind my sofa, which means I never look at them. Thank goodness. They're on the chopping block:

Love,
hosaa, decluttering.

The complicated life of a decluttering mind

Where have I been? Trying to stop putting off housework. Last weekend's task was clearing out a filing cabinet, getting rid of extra copies of failed stories.

Kept the file of rejection slips, though. I need the humble pie.

I came across this submission from August 2001 to The Washington Post's "Life Is Short: Autobiography as Haiku" column:

My niece, playing with my magnetic poetry kit, spilled words all over the kitchen floor.

"Please, no dirty words on the refrigerator," I joked.

My nephew asked if I would live in my tiny apartment forever, instead of asking if I'd ever get a husband and kids.

After they left, I found one tiny, insignificant word still on the floor. I put it on the fridge, in the middle, as a reminder. It's only dirty if it tempts me:

"ALL"

Love, hosaa
from that tiny forever apartment

Keane at the Strathmore

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!

   

  

    

As Read by Edward Duke

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:

For love alone,
hosaa

Doubled (over) Indemnity

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.

Walter Neff: Who?

Phyllis: My husband. You were anxious to talk to him weren't you?

Walter Neff: Yeah, I was, but I'm sort of getting over the idea, if you know what I mean.

Phyllis: There's a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. Forty-five miles an hour.

Walter Neff: How fast was I going, officer?

Phyllis: I'd say around ninety. 

Walter Neff: Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket. 

Phyllis: Suppose I let you off with a warning this time. 

Walter Neff: Suppose it doesn't take. 

Phyllis: Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles. 

Walter Neff: Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder. 

Phyllis: Suppose you try putting it on my husband's shoulder.

Walter Neff: That tears it. 

(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.

Double Indemnity plays at Round House Theatre in Bethesda through June 24, 2012.

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