Saturday, June 8, 2013

Glengarry Becky

Please enjoy the kudos written about Round House Theatre's current production of Becky Shaw here

I would prefer not to waste people's time with a negative review, so I'll just say the acting was great and the set design was great (though it was engineered much the same way as in RHT's production of Pride and Prejudice a few seasons ago - rooms rotating carousel-like for change of scene). 

I acknowledge that, production-wise, there was much to admire here. I just didn't like it. I had the same response that I did to Glengarry Glen Ross. I couldn't relate to these people, and I didn't want to spend time with them. If I can't relate to a production, I want it to transport me. This didn't, and I just wanted it to end.

That's it. So I'll not waste anyone else's time either. I really hope next season is better.

Love, hosaa
still Drowsy

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Irresistible Imagination: Gatsby and the Chaperone

By coincidence, The 3-D Great Gatsby opened the same weekend I headed down to Raleigh for my planned-months-in-advance excursion to see Clay Aiken in a limited engagement of The Drowsy Chaperone (featuring Beth Leavel reprising her Tony Award winning performance as the title character).

You're already supposed to know the Gatsby story; if you're as unfamiliar with DC as I was, the short version is: Lonely musical-theater-loving Man in Chair (Clay) escapes into the fantasy of one of his favorite cast recordings, a 1920s frolic about a spotlight-loving ingenue (Paige Faure as Janet Van Der Graaft) torn between love and stardom.

The banality of Man in Chair's life is made poignant as he is interrupted by the phone, or by the lights going out, and he reflects on the failure of his less than perfect marriage. Do you leave (escape) or live with your decisions?

The decision to live with it can be reversed; he ultimately has "leave" thrust upon him by the divorce lawyers, and it is his escapist life he lives with. (The show that this story actually reminds me of is The Purple Rose of Cairo, with Mia Farrow as the drab-life-liver escaping into Depression Era silver-screen fantasy.)

Clay Aiken in rehearsal, The Drowsy Chaperone, photo by Corey Lowenstein, News Observer

Clay Aiken as Man in Chair, The Drowsy Chaperone. Photo by Curtis Brown
The over-the-top farcical world of Drowsy Chaperone's Roaring Twenties is a stark contrast to director Baz Luhrmann's Great Gatsby, a nonstop over-the-top orgy, where the one thing unifying the classes is decadence. Hey, see it in 3-D to get the full over-the-topness.

Musically, I'll give the edge to Jay-Z in bringing the Gatsbian Jazz Age into the modern ear. Drowsy is as light as air, and fairly forgettable (except among those of my friends who went for multiples last week).

Acting: well, I love Clay, so there you go. He delivered a memorable character. If Man in Chair touched me, it's because he is far easier for someone like me to relate to than Jay Gatsby, whether performed by Robert Redford or Leonardo di Caprio.

They both created fantasy worlds: As Daisy Buchanan puts it, Gatsby's world is a "perfect, irresistible imagination." So is Man in Chair's.

I already live in the Man in Chair's world: I'm Auntie Hosaa on a Sofa, occasionally found hanging over the railing in the dress circle, binoculars trained on my favorite showman, engaging me with his irresistible imagination.

It's F. Scott Fitzgerald's Gatsby I never quite understood. Our fictional chaperone, Nick Carraway, is too simplistic: Gatsby had inextinguishable hope; Daisy (and Tom Buchanan) were careless people. And no matter who is cast as Daisy, be it Mia Farrow or Carey Mulligan, I just don't get the attraction, let alone the obsession.

But then, there are people who don't get my obsession with Clay Aiken. So there you go. It's just that perfect, irresistible imagination he elicits.





Monday, May 13, 2013

Life After School, or, How to Be a Grown-Up

(For Rachel)

Since you don’t think anything has changed in the one whole entire week since you graduated from college, let me assure you that it will.

It’s already different for you than it was for me, because you’re starting life with a husband. You’re completely out of your parents’ house and making your own home together (whereas all my future husbands married other women, leaving me to fall in love with fictional heroes and gay celebrities. At least they don’t cost much).

When I graduated from college, Mom (your grandmother) picked me up and drove me back to her new house in Louisiana, so I didn’t even have my old high-school friends around for mutual support. Mom did get me a job interview with one of her friends, an education consultant, so at least I had (minimum wage) employment. It is very good to get your first real job any way you can.

It didn’t last, so I did sort of bounce around until I found graduate school and a real profession. You don’t have to bounce, and you don’t have to go to graduate school. Just keep your mind busy. You’ll keep learning even without school.

You want tangible suggestions, so here goes:

1. Volunteer or get an internship. Pick a business or organization that looks like it could use some help and offer to do whatever you can. When you get there, do more. Always be willing to pitch in. “Let me do that for you” is my favorite employee expression.

2. Read for at least an hour a day. You need the quiet time, and you need to focus on something unrelated to your daily routine. History is good; biographies of inspiring people are good. Don’t waste your brain on “just for entertainment” trashy kind of reading. (Exception: Anything by P.G. Wodehouse. You know I love me some Jeeves stories!)

3. Once a week, try a kind of food you’ve never had before. The supermarket is full of unusual stuff, and they’ll often have free recipe cards nearby. Buy only a little in case you don’t like it (or so you don’t eat too much of it if you do).

4. You can talk to strangers now! You know how (and whom). Ask questions. Figure out, as soon as you possibly can, what you have in common. Even the most “opposite” strange new person you come across will have something you can relate to.

5. Get the Sunday newspaper. (Yes, the print edition.) Open it up and spread it out all over the floor and find at least one whole article to read. (You were a business major, so go for the business section first.) You’re probably getting most of your news headlines already just by getting on the computer, but an in-depth, well-researched, written, and edited article is worth paying some attention to.

6. Start saving money. Your grandma’s trick: Each week, deduct (without withdrawing) $10 or $20 from your checking account and record the amount somewhere else. If you don’t see it, you don’t spend it. After six months, you can turn your “set aside” money into a CD or a savings bond or even start investing it (your dad can talk to you about that if he hasn’t already).

7. Stretch. You don’t need yoga or pilates classes; just do slow stretching moves on every part of you that can be stretched. Then move: walk, run, swim, bike, dance. Then cool down by stretching a little more.

8. Be outdoors at least part of the day.

9. Daydream. No time limit, but no multitasking. It is not good to daydream while you’re talking to strangers (number 4 above).

10. Call your folks once a week. But you’d do that anyway.

That’s probably more “advice” than anyone can tolerate. You want to keep your hands busy, too, so I have a couple of projects to send you.

And by the way, you don't have to call me "Aunt" anymore. We're both adults.

love and "turtle waves" back at you!

Sunday, May 12, 2013

The Darks and Lights of Winter

The Winter's Tale at Shakespeare Theatre Company is a rocky rollercoaster ride of emotions, beginning with the king's irrational jealousy.



In my opinion, the production relied a little too heavily on the lighting to show Leontes's (Mark Harelik) inner turmoil--the actor could convey it just fine. But unlike Othello, Leontes has no one feeding him bad information about his divinely warm (and very pregnant) wife, Hermione (Hannah Yelland). So Harelik's fiercely uncompromising passion in throwing away this wife (along with her son and the daughter to come) made the character almost wholly unlikable.

Hannah Yelland as Hermione, Mark Harelik as Leontes and Sean Arbuckle as Polixenes in the Shakespeare Theatre Company’s production of 'The Winter’s Tale', directed by Rebecca Taichman. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

The darkness of Act I is a stark contrast to the lightness of pastoral Act II--and in this production, the transition between those contrasts is eased at the end of the first act with the abrupt and very funny image of the gloriously goofy Clown (Tom Story) crossing upstage, running and screaming like a frightened child.

If you've been here before, you already know about my obsession fascination with Tom Story
Tom Story via About the Artists
I realize I haven't seen all he's done, but I love his ability to mold that serene moon face into a range of expressions. From the first act seriousness of a palace aid (Cleomenes) without much to do except look serious, he transmogrified into the happily clueless son-of-a-shepherd, oblivious to the pickpocketing rogue Autolycus (the other half of Harelik dual-role assignment).

Actually, a very funny bit between them ensued during the IDR (invited dress rehearsal) when the zipper on Tom's turned-around fanny-pack wouldn't close after Autolycus stole the money in it. As Autolycus pulled and pulled on the stubborn zipper, the young shepherd's obliviousness grew increasingly implausible, and the smile just kept blossoming on his giddy face. At last, Tom moved the plot along with a sweet "You must abandon it, sir." Snort! I hate to say it was my favorite part of the play, but the moment called to mind the best crackups with Harvey Korman and Tim Conway from the Carol Burnett Show. (And it happened again when Tom as clown was imitating the rogue's wildly ridiculous lisp.)

This levity, this lightness, was all in keeping with the pastoral Act II. Sets, costumes, lighting all conveyed such contrasting warmth against Act I's frosty shadowy harshness. But the seamlessness of the transitions were as magical as the Queen's rebirth at the end, from discarded wife to treasured love.

Overall the production is as good as it gets at Shakespeare Theatre Company, which is pretty damn good. It did run long, but I imagine an earlier start time than the IDR had will keep people from dropping dead at 11. (Us old people, that is.) 

I thought it was interesting that the staging of this production, with actors not in the scene simply sitting to the side but not going off stage, was so similar to the Wandering Souls' engaging (and economical) 2009 production of The Winter's Tale. The Wanderers' 90-minute production remains one of my favorite Shakespearean experiences ever.

The only thing I would have liked would have been a longer why-I'm-forgiving-you speech from the queen Hermione, but Shakespeare apparently didn't provide one. 

Heather Wood as Perdita, Mark Harelik as Leontes, Hannah Yelland as Hermione and Todd Bartels as Florizel (background) in the Shakespeare Theatre Company’s production of 'The Winter’s Tale', directed by Rebecca Taichman. Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

Just another one of those irrational emotions the Bard gives his characters and expects the audience to accept. But as I said, Harelik's Leontes was so thoroughly irrationally enraged with jealousy that I personally couldn't have loved him after such abuse. Just me?

The Winter's Tale, Lansburgh Theatre, opens May 14, 2013
Director: Rebecca Taichman
Set Designer: Christine Jones
Costume Designer: David Zinn
Lighting Designer: Christopher Akerlind

Cast:
Mark Harelik (Leontes, King of Sicilia; Autolycus, a rogue)
Hannah Yelland (Hermione, Queen of Sicilia)
Sean Arbuckle (Polixenes, King of Bohemia)
Heather Wood (Mamillius, Prince of Sicilia; Perdita, Princess of Sicilia)
Brent Carver (Camillo)
Ted van Griethuysen (Antigonus; old shepherd)
Nancy Robinette (Paulina; drunken shepherdess)
Tom Story (Cleomenes; young shepherd, a clown)
Todd Bartels (Dion; Florizel, Prince of Bohemia)





Saturday, April 27, 2013

The Nez at the Birch

I'm a little late posting a recap of Michael Nesmith's performance at The Birchmere. His April 17 concert was the last of his current tour, and it was a sellout, which made it fun to be in a crowd of true fans. But like the time I saw Wicked with busloads of teenage girls who knew every line, I was the outsider, the casually interested audience member in a crowd of Nez-heads.




I guess you have to address the Monkee in the room, because truthfully that's really only how I know of Michael Nesmith. Many of his fans were clearly Monkees fans, and of course I remember the show well. He was the quiet, wry, serious, intelligent Monkee. I don't remember if he was my favorite or not; I might have liked Davy back in the day, because Davy was the cute Brit who once played the Artful Dodger in Oliver!, like my beloved Jack Wild. But I digress.

Links: 

Couple of videos - and pardon the bobbing-eating-drinking-talking silhouette in the foreground. It's all part of the Birchmere experience. *g* 


Also on YouTube:
First encore, Tonight
* Second encore, Thanks for the Ride

There was a lot of love in the room, and the Nez responded with a great deal of warmth. It was clear that he enjoyed what he was doing. What I loved most were the stories, or rather vignettes, that preceded each number. He takes you to the place where he was in his head when he created the songs, and even though he doesn't have the best voice, he has an artist's vision. It was an embracing and gentle experience. I can see why the fans love him.

I had more to say about the Nez experience as it relates to the Clay Aiken experience, but it would probably require more research and analysis. The phenomenon of having one's big-time show-biz career launched "overnight" by a wildly popular TV show is the obvious similarity. The Nez and Clay both have expressed gratitude for the experience and the lessons. But they both have moved on. They both had record-label frustrations, too. The great Nez story was about being expected to record hits, which led to his titling his next album And the Hits Just Keep On Comin'. Brilliant!

The short story is that the Nez listened to his own voice, worked with musicians he loved, and kept experimenting and growing. It's what artists do, and the audience continues to welcome it.



love, hosaa
cruisin'


Saturday, April 13, 2013

Le Corsaire in the Afternoon

I knew already that ballet companies tend to put their star dancers on in prime-time slots: opening night, Friday and Saturday evening performances. So my Saturday matinee selection for American Ballet Theater's spring visit to the Kennedy Center had more to do with timing my first viewing of the classic Le Corsaire with when I would be able to see Daniil Simkin perform in it.

ABT and KenCen do a good job of listing the dance assignments well in advance for the convenience of fans wanting to get tickets on the right days. So I knew Daniil had drawn both weekend matinee dance assignments, but with different roles.

The bad news was that neither role Daniil performs this weekend is the lead, the hero (Conrad the pirate). But the good news is that Le Corsaire is structured to give a lot of dancing to the featured performers.

My Daniil draw today was for Lankendem the slave trader. It's a character role, but he gets to start dancing as soon as the curtain goes up on Act I. Yay! He also does considerable partnering with the slaves he's auctioning, particularly the second lead lady, Gulnare (today performed by Sarah Lane).

When I realized that Daniil would be playing the role of Ali the Slave at tomorrow's performance, I was disappointed that I would miss the iconic role of this ballet. It's Ali (Ivan Vasiliev, photographed by Rosalie O'Connor) on the cover of the program:


And it's Ali the Slave that you see Mikhail Baryshnikov performing during the gala montage in The Turning Point.

But as it turns out, despite the iconic status and the technical fireworks in the slave's big Act II dance, it isn't much of a role. So I was very satisfied with my Daniil dance fix today. I can simply extrapolate and imagine.


Daniil Simkin as Ali the Slave in Le Corsaire, American Ballet Theater. Photo by Gene Schiavone




And before I could even start this blog, Daniil had already blogged his own post-performance assessment: #ItWentWellButI'mKindaTired 

What a cutie!
love, hosaa

Writing "Books" That Matter

Before I get to my reflections on Round House Theatre's production of How to Write a New Book for the Bible, let me get one thing out of the way: I should have changed my Preview-Thursday subscription (which I've had for 10 years), while I had the chance when I renewed last month for the 2013-14 season. I miss the lovely couple who used to sit next to me, and now I have the loudest talkers sitting behind me.

Stupid people. My fellow subscriber who kept telling her husband how painful it was to sit through Glengarry Glen Ross in February now spent Act II of Write/Bible commenting on the "superb acting" of MaryBeth Wise, portraying the mother dying of cancer. Okay, okay, okay, I totally agree with you, but SHUT.UP.

And while I'm on the subject of rude audiences, you latecomers shouldn't have been admitted. Get here on time! I did! You make everyone wait for you, and a long show runs late on a weeknight. Ushers, please USH! You need to push, and you need to shush.

I'm clearly cranky about all this.

Back to Write/Bible: And since I'm still cranky, let me get my complaints out of the way. Something I'm really beginning to get annoyed by is reliance on narrative in storytelling. That is, the narrator (in this case the author and character Bill Cain, played amiably by Ray Ficca), was telling the story about himself and telling the audience how universal the story is (unlike the Stage Manager in Our Town telling a universal story and simply setting the characters in motion to illustrate the point).

Photo of Ray Ficca, Mitchell Hébert, MaryBeth Wise, and Danny Gavigan by Danisha Crosby.

The telling part of the storytelling serves a purpose here, which I understand is to convey the sermon message of the play (more on that in a moment). The other characters have their moments of soliloquizing, too, which means acting to the audience and not to each other. This was the entire approach for RHT's 2011 production of ReENTRY.

The other directing choice that bothers me is casting actors in multiple roles unnecessarily. As talented as Mitchell Hébert is (and fun to watch him hop in and out of characters), it was distracting to see him portraying minor female characters. Hire another actress.

Write/Bible (we are told) is an autobiographical play, which author-character Billy explains is the "Mom and Dad" play. It largely revolves around the slow death-by-cancer of the mom, Mary (Wise), who was preceded in death-by-cancer by the dad, Pete (Hébert). Billy, the younger "favorite" (but not really) son does the caregiving duty for his mother while the first son, Paul (Danny Gavigan), goes off and does what first sons do: make parents proud.

The sermon message of the play is that we are all writing our own new books of the Bible. Cain's premise is that the Bible should be viewed as a storybook and not a rulebook (I love that message) and that our families and family stories are new books of the Bible. This all matters, says Cain. We all matter. (And it is a comforting message when one is feeling particularly insignificant.)

But there were a couple of things that author-character Billy Cain couldn't see, as the teller of his own family story, which were blatantly obvious to me. The first was that his family history of cancer seemed to have no impact on his own sense of health or mortality. Yes, I could relate to his caregiving role, but when I was looking after my own mother after her fall(s), all I could think of the whole time was that this is me in 30 years.

Maybe we shouldn't tell our own stories. Maybe we're too myopic. The other thing Cain missed was the brother (and hey, is Cain not an appropriate name?). There is a big stretch in Act I where we see Paul (Gavigan) going off to fight in Vietnam. He misses one week of regular letter-writing to the family, and when he comes home, shaken up, we eventually learn why (an incident involving a battle and a buddy). Then, in Act II, we learn that he has become a teacher and is mentioned on TV when several of his former students have gone on to some kind of noteworthy success.

There's a big gaping gap between these plot points; the Act I sequence (I admit to being distracted while watching handsome Gavigan change into his Army uniform) was actually worthy of an entire play, to wit, ReENTRY. I realize the Mom and Dad play can only have so much big brother in it (enough with the Jesus, Mary, and Joseph references, thanks), but I couldn't help feeling that the big brother mattered less than the younger brother-author-character wanted to admit (that is, mattered less to him, but more to the new book of the Bible). Useful for wrapping up the sermon message, though.

Danny Gavigan, via About the Artists

Since we last saw Gavigan playing another soldier in Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, it's natural to draw comparison to that performance: They were completely different. Different characters, different responses to the war and postwar scenarios and traumas. And an actor worth watching at all times.

So anyway, in Write/Bible, the dark family "secret" that would have made a compelling focus (Paul at war, Paul after war) was unfortunately buried in a subplot.

Or maybe that's just me. And of course, when invited, one thinks of one's own family books of the Bible that should be written. We all have something that needs to be said, and one day I'll try to write about my own brother's monsters and traumas and tragedies. But not yet. I'm still trying to learn from (of?) life.

love, hosaa
unsermonizing