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Reviews
February 7, 2012
Review: Austin Shakespeare's 'Arcadia'
“Highbrow” and “romantic comedy” are not typically adjectival bedfellows. In fact, they’re not often used in the same paragraph, let alone the same sentence. Yet both terms could comfortably be used to describe Tom Stoppard’s “Arcadia,” playing now through Feb. 19 at the Long Center and produced by Austin Shakespeare.
“Arcadia” is British playwright Tom Stoppard’s fast-paced, hyper-intellectual witticism at its finest, and Austin Shakespeare’s production confidently tackles the play’s decidedly challenging themes. The show takes on (among other things) the philosophical clash between reason and romanticism; explanations of advanced algebra; the second law of thermodynamics; and academic literary archeology; as they all play out on a country estate at the turn of both the eighteenth century and the twenty-first.
As with many of Stoppard’s plays, “Arcadia” is a challenge to sum up. It follows two asymptotic story lines - a student and her tutor in 1809 and a couple of academics studying the family records in the late twentieth century. Under Ann Ciccolella’s direction, this production rather downplays the tragic finale, resulting in a hybrid performance of light-hearted comedy and heavy-intellectualism.
Overall, the ensemble is excellent, as is much of the design. As the tutor, Septimus Hodge, Collin Bjork is the charming centripetal force of the eighteenth century world - seducing the women and the audience with his spunky equivocations. Georgia McLeland, a long-time veteran of Austin Shakespeare’s Young Shakespeare performances, bursts onto the main stage and proves herself an emerging Austin talent in her role as Thomasina Coverly (Septimus’ student).
Michael Dalmon is the highlight of the evening in his hilarious rendition of the foolish cuckold cum poet, Ezra Chater. Shelby Davenport gracefully slides into the role of the smarmy academic, Bernard Nightingale, and as his intellectual sparring partner, Hannah Jarvis, Liz Beckham’s brusque British reserve is charmingly captivating.
Justin Cox deserves particular acclaim for his fantastic stage accoutrement, as does Jonathan Heibert for his period costumes. Ia Enstera’s epic set design is quite stunning, though it loses some of its luster under too much scrutiny. John Vander Gheynst’s sound design doesn’t really do justice to the space, but the Rollins Studio Theatre offers state of the art assisted listening devices that help to eliminate ambient noise.
The first act of “Arcadia” stretches out like a rolling county green, and although the tempo isn’t particularly fast-paced, the steady rhythm of the witticisms keeps the show moving through the two and a half hour run.
‘Arcardia’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays through Feb. 19. Discussion between audience and actors to follow every performance. Rollins Studio Theater, Long Center.s $21-$24. www.thelongcenter.org.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kimberley Mead for Austin Shakespeare.
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February 2, 2012
Review: 'Southern Fried Chickie'
Sometimes if you want a good laugh, all you have to do is head south.
Or, as is the case for Christy McBrayer, bring the South back east.
As part of the Frontera Fest Long Fringe, McBrayer has brought “Southern Fried Chickie,” her one woman, ten character comedy romp, all the way from Los Angeles to give Austin a glimpse of life in her home town: Saltillo, Mississippi, population a few thousand. Saltillo is (apparently) the trailer-park suburb of Tupelo, and the hometown of Elvis’ mother, Gladys Love Smith Presley.
“Southern Fried Chickie” (a purportedly autobiographical show) pulls us along on an adventure into deep-South small town life, replete with muumuus and mashed potatoes, hair curlers and chain smoking, methamphetamines, Jack Daniels, and high school boyfriends with nicknames like Hamburger and Frog. McBrayer takes us on a tour of her family angst, donning the trappings of each persona with enthusiasm and pluck. She does, however, make a short venture up north (sort of) when we meet her Minnesotan and maternal neighbor with a penchant for macramé.
And although McBrayer makes up the bulk of the show, it wouldn’t be half as much fun if it weren’t for her Red Neck Greek Chorus. Austin locals Johnny Molinari and Casey Epps show off their vocal and guitar picking talents, supplying a great pre-show warm up and a running soundtrack for McBrayer’s shenanigans. Ron Ramelli rounds out the ensemble with keyboards and harmonica. Of particular delight on Saturday was Casey Epps’ rendition of his original song, “The Ballad of Dick and Jane:” an entertaining (and not very subtle) adventure in double-entendre and divorce.
The show is undoubtedly entertaining for anyone who grew up in small-town South, caricaturing the characters one inevitably encounters. McBrayer reminds us that stereotypes are alive and well in the Southern states, and it’s a lot more fun to see her reenact them secondhand than encounter them in real life.
‘Southern Fried Chickie’ continues at 4:45 p.m. Performances at Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. Tickets $15. www.hydeparktheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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January 31, 2012
Review: 'Next to Normal'
In the opening moments of “Next to Normal,” the emotionally charged musical currently running at Zach Theatre, a mother, father, sister, and brother (The Goodman family) cheerfully go about their morning routines.
Until they notice that mom is kneeling on the floor, obsessively assembling dozens of bologna sandwiches. They all stop and stare. Maybe this is not going to be such a “normal” day after all.
Directed by Dave Steakley, “Next to Normal” tells the story of Diana Goodman (Meredith McCall), a suburban housewife with a long history of bipolar disorder. Her relapse after a period of calm launches the family into turbulence.
While Diana undergoes medical treatment under the supervision of two doctors (both played with precision by Joshua Denning), the audience is left to wonder, as Diana does, “which is worse, the symptom or the cure?”
The 2009 Broadway production of “Next to Normal” (with music by Tom Kitt, book and lyrics by Brian Yorkey) won several Tony awards as well as the 2010 Pulitzer Prize. The show’s rock score is packed with powerful songs, complicated rhythms, and unexpected lyrics.
Despite its heavy-sounding theme, Zach Theatre’s version of “Next to Normal” is a gripping and often very funny ride. The show’s small cast is uniformly sharp. McCall infuses her portrayal of Diana with dry wit. Her voice soars on ballads like “I Miss The Mountains,” where Diana laments that her medications allow her to feel nothing.
As her steadfast but overwhelmed husband Dan, Jamie Goodwin’s solid performance resonates. As Natalie, Diana’s driven, over-achieving teenage daughter, Kelli Schultz is a breath of fresh air, delivering some of the show’s funniest lines and tossing in some refreshing teenage sarcasm, especially in the scenes of her budding romance with stoner kid Henry (Johnny Newcomb).
Poignant, surprising, and at times utterly irreverent, “Next to Normal” pulls back the curtain on a family in crisis. It explores the difficult topic of mental illness with equal amounts of sympathy, levity, heartbreak, and hope. And it makes the audience question what, exactly, it means to be “normal” in the first place.
‘Next to Normal’ continues through March 4 Zach’s Kleberg Stage, 1510 Toomey Rd. $25-$55. 476-0541, www.zachtheatre.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo: Joshua Denning and Meredith McCall. Photo by Kirk Tuck
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Review: 'Wicked'
This winter, Austin doesn’t have to wait until spring to see green.
Broadway Across America has brought the smash-hit musical, “Wicked,” back to Bass Concert Hall for an impressive three-week run through Feb. 12.
In the giant auditorium, fantasy looms overhead — a giant animatronic dragon gazes down upon the audience while the city of Oz glitters from the center of an extensive map showing us the world we are about to enter.
Creating a back-story for the beloved figures of “The Wizard of Oz,” “Wicked” explores issues of friendship and popularity, ostracization and rebellion, against a backdrop of magic and munchkins.
The steampunk type settings of Eugene Lee create a visually stunning tableau for the fairy tale atmosphere combined with contemporary teenage angst. Susan Hilferty’s asymmetrical and utterly luscious costumes are consistently delightful, with a pleasing potpourri of textures and patterns. The production elements alone would make “Wicked” worth seeing, but they are only the beginning.
This year’s production brings a legitimate beauty queen to the role of Glinda (Tiffany Haas, former Miss Ohio in the Miss America Pageant), and Haas certainly cultivates the kind of love/hate relationship that the role calls for. Her portrayal of the snotty and spoiled teenage witch shifts between exasperating and endearing in a way that keeps the character both overwhelmingly bubbly yet somehow humanly awkward.
This serves to contrast nicely with Anne Brummel’s Elpheba, who comes off as downright normal despite her green hue. Both women bring strength and personality to their now iconic roles.
As the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Don Amendolia is pleasingly blustery and bombastic, moving adeptly between his moments as a power-hungry despot and a fatherly gentleman with a twinkling charm about him.
The choreography serves to highlight the pleasures of the costumes, if not necessarily the talent of the dancers. Admittedly, the “Dancing Through Life” number falls a bit flat, but the inimitable Broadway spectacle and stage magic of “Defying Gravity” more than compensates.
It’s hard to shake off the production history of a show so entrenched in popular memory, but this production’s vocal performances depart enough from the original cast recording to make it refreshing to hear.
Some of the staging and storyline rely on familiarity with the original book, but it’s not enough to be distracting. Overall, this is a musical we’re lucky to have back in town, and it’s well worth seeing live.
‘Wicked’ continues through Feb. 12 at the Bass Concert Hall. $38-$107. www.texasperformingarts.org.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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January 30, 2012
Review: Austin Lyric Opera's Lucia di Lammermoor
Who knew a death scene could be so much fun?
In the Austin Lyric Opera production of “Lucia di Lammermoor” now at the Long Center the most famous scene is a wild and woolly epic run-up to death, a quarter hour that it takes Lucia to paint us the full picture of how completely she’s lost her mind.
Donizetti’s opera, aside from this “mad scene” and the famous sextet at the center of the production, is actually a pretty slim affair. There’s not much of a story in it. Think of a more concise ‘Romeo and Juliet’ set in Scotland, and sung, uh, in Italian. Girl loves bad boy, but girl’s forced to marry a schlub for political stability — problems ensue. There’s betrayal, vengeance, but most importantly, madness.
The sextet (a big chorus piece, highlighting the work’s six principal voices) was smartly paced by conductor Richard Buckley, and had the voices braiding energetically through the hall.
Even so, the production depends on the mad scene, and Russian soprano Lyubov Petrova was a fantastic madwoman, teetering dangerously around the stage, undone by her actions and the circumstances.
Petrova sang delicate waves of sadness, then soaring notes of manic joy, a performance that brought home the crowd’s scandal of seeing raw, unhinged emotion in 17th century Scotland.
Once Lucia comes down the staircase in a bloody nightgown, she’s fully transformed. She hallucinates a scene with her former lover in a giddy soprano, then waves a sword at the terrified crowd, until she’s shocked into the realization that she’s just killed her unwanted husband.
Why is this tragic scene so much fun? For one, we know it’s coming. For two, Petrova’s multifaceted mania cycles through so many contrasting emotions that remains still unpredictable. The audience just sits back and enjoys the performance.
On opening night the principal voices came out of the gate a little cold and overall they remained slightly uneven in quality, though Texas-born tenor Chad Shelton was a deserved fan favorite.
The sets are effective, especially in the large chorus scenes, which had a nice depth, suiting the strong work of the chorus itself. Dim lighting predominates, but added to the eerie mood, and accentuated the rich color palate of the period costumes.
Lucia di Lammermoor continues at 7:30 p.m. Feb. 3 and 3 p.m. Feb 5 at the Long Center. 19-$135.www.austinlyricopera.org
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Mark Matson for Austin Lyric Opera.
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Review: 'Boeing, Boeing'
“One up, one down and one pending.”
With these words, the galumphing Robert sums up the ambitious love life of his childhood friend — the cavorting, Paris-dwelling British architect Bernard — a love life that ultimately proves too enterprising, even for 1963.
Bernard (David Stokey) is a master of timetables, which he uses to organize his domestic schedule with three fiancees — international flight attendants whose paths must never cross: Trans World Airlines agent Janet (Lara Toner), complete with a Texas twang; Air France’s smooth Jacqueline (Hildreth England); and the overzealous Lufthansa agent Judith (Laura Walberg), whose love of sausages and sauerkraut bewilders Bernard’s grumbling housemaid, Bertha (Bernadette Nason). It’s the heyday of flying. All three women are done up to perfection in skirt suits with neckerchiefs, and big hair.
Austin Playhouse’s Don Toner directs the French farce “Boeing-Boeing” by Marc Camoletti, adapted to English by Beverly Cross for a 1962 staging. It portrays the one day in Bernard’s life when the timetables don’t have the answers; when inclement weather and flight delays brings all three of the flight attendants to his flat, Bernard pulls in Robert (Zach Thompson) to help him in his dramatic struggle to keep the women unaware of each other, even as they inhabit the same space.
A perfect accident is to be had in terms of the theater space itself. While Austin Playhouse awaits the construction of a brand new theater in the Mueller Redevelopment, its performances are taking place in a temporary tent facility, distinguishable from a real theater only in that if you’re at the matinee showing, the tent doesn’t get dark until, well, it’s actually dark outside. The 5 p.m. Sunday show works out beautifully: Act I encompasses breakfast and lunch while it’s still light outside, and Act II’s dinner is in the dark.
Witness (and cook) to these meals is Bertha. As the grumpy maid, Nason is a riot. There’s one scene in particular that can be summed up by her stance — slumped on the couch, sucking down brandy, that is. “Fasten your seat belt, sir. It’s going to be a bumpy ride,” she says to Robert after a telephone call reveals Bernard’s carefully planned schedule (Janet for breakfast, Jacqueline for lunch, Judith for dinner) is going awry.
Thompson’s portrayal of Robert is one that involves the entire body. One moment he’s catapulting off the couch to intercept Jacqueline’s path to the bedroom, where Judith awaits Bernard; the next, he’s gesticulating crazily to Bernard, attempting to send him signals about the status of the women. Stokey’s quivering depiction of Bernard makes one wonder how the man had ever held it together. At the end of the day, Bernard is a changed man, confidence thoroughly shaken. One is enough.
‘Boeing, Boeing’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturday. Austin Playhouse at Mueller, 1800 ½ Simond Ave. $26-$28. www.austinplayhouse.com.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo: Hildreth England and David Stokey. Photo by Christopher Loveless
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January 25, 2012
Review: Trouble Puppet's 'Crapstall St. Boys'
With thunder in the sky and grimly funny stories on the stage, this year’s Frontera Fest Long Fringe is off to a mischievous start.
Trouble Puppet Theater is up to its usual hijinks, providing a piece of biting social commentary wrapped in a cloak of adorable puppets.
Creator and director Connor Hopkins’ new macabre fairy tale, “Crapstall St. Boys,” is decidedly in the vein of Edward Gorey and Lemony Snicket. The events in this play are anything but fortunate - which isn’t to say they aren’t delightful, but that may depend on your sense of humor and your age. This show is not for children.
Serving as flagrant condemnations of industrial capitalism and its costs on our humanity, the characters of “Crapstall St.” would be downright Dickensian if it weren’t for the cannibalism and three-eyed monsters sprinkled throughout the show. K. Eliot Hayes’ excellent sound design adds an ominous ambiance that makes the show darkly gripping for the full 50 minutes that it runs.
Departing from Trouble Puppet’s usual style (several people for each puppet), “Crapstall St.” features (at times) several puppets per puppeteer. They’ve assembled (literally) an ensemble of ragamuffin youths and uncaring adults that are so adorable it’s easy to forget we’re watching a scene of death, destruction and decapitation.
Add to that the juxtaposition of a circus-style opening act, and “Crapstall St. Boys” becomes a disconcerting delight of childhood wonder and adult cynicism. The carnivalesque, vaudevillian entertainment of Chickendog Circus opens the show with juggling, accordion music, unicycle riding and a surprise guest appearance by the fabulously talented Jingles.
Chickendog Circus sets the stage nicely for the performance ahead; because there’s a sort of magic to both juggling and puppetry, it helps the audience rediscover the sense of reverence that comes with youth. But Hopkins adds to that the healthy dose of cynicism that a socially-minded adult can’t help but have in these modern times - resulting in a show that takes us back but doesn’t let us leave with the warm and fuzzy fairy tale ending that experience has taught us to expect (and write off as ridiculous).
“Crapstall St. Boys” continues 11 p.m. Jan. 28, 3:15 p.m. Sunday, 6:45 p.m. Feb. 4.Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. $10. www.troublepuppet.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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January 23, 2012
Review: Golden Hornet Project's 'Fugitive Visions'
Golden Hornet Project basically told Sergei Prokofiev, “Thanks for the melodies,” and then brought a New Orleans style jazz stomp right on top of the Russian composer’s head.
Ten years ago, almost to the day, since they first played it, Graham Reynolds and Peter Stopschinski’s composing project took on Prokofiev’s “Visions Fugitives,” at Spiderhouse’s 29th Street Ballroom.
In 1917, young Prokofiev published twenty short piano experiments, a stunning collection that tinker with dissonant harmonies, ungainly melodies and silence. Like a chef’s tasting menu, “Visions” is a smorgasbord of spooky, circus-like and pretty tunes that are over almost as soon as you’ve had a bite.
The evening started with University of Texas jazz professor Jeff Hellmer, playing through the original work in its entirety. Some are reminiscent of Erik Satie, others are so thoroughly modern they could’ve been placed on Reynolds’ soundtrack to the film “A Scanner Darkly” without anyone batting an eye.
It was over in 20 minutes or so, a truly economical work. And then, after intermission, The Golden Hornet Project’s took the stage, with trombone, vibes, sax, double bass, synth and drum kit. “You’re going to love hearing the original, and then you’re going to love hearing how we completely destroy them,” Stopschinski said at the beginning of the night. And it was so.
Using the 20 visions as their base, the band charged through arrangements by Reynolds and Stopschinski.
Some remained pretty close to the original, and they could be surprisingly delicate and quiet, no small measure of restraint with a band this energetic.
Like Prokofiev’s, a few arrangements were more fully formed than others, like (what I’m fairly sure was) “No. 10,” which appeared on an early Golden Arm Trio album. It’s a meandering, banal little circus piece that, half way through, erupted with a hurricane of horns attacking at full volume until Reynolds raised his hand up, and brought it crashing down to a finale. The crowd went absolutely bonkers.
When the two composers squeeze with Hellmer at the piano to play a compressed version of the last few “Visions,” it’s like a Bugs Bunny skit. Stopschinski crumples up and throws each finished music sheet, while Reynolds stampedes up the keyboard, forcing the other two pianists hands to lift at the last second to make way.
That showmanship is the most obvious thing separating Reynolds and Stopschinski from the new (classical) music. The funny and relaxed banter, percussion duels and improvisational breaks are second nature to these guys.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: Conspirare's 'Whitacre & Lewis'
In January, when most of the city’s arts programs are waking up from a mid-winter’s nap, Conspirare is chomping at the bit, with fierce programs that take over entire weekends.
Last year, Craig Hella Johnson and company were racing out of the gate with a supremely ambitious mini festival of Renaissance and Baroque music, hours upon hours of material.This year the pace slowed only slightly. The choir’s weekend was booked with four concerts of Joby Talbot’s “Path of Miracles,” but they also managed to sneak in a single concert of U.S. premieres of work by American composers Eric Whitacre and Peter Scott Lewis.
Conspirare seem to have an affinity for Whitacre’s ecclesiastical music. Pensive, solemn, and generally very beautiful, Whitacre has a deserved following among choiristers. His music is at its best when tinged with a layer of darkness, as in “Five Hebrew Love Songs,” which pits the women’s bright, cheery tune against the men’s somber Greek-chorus.
Conspirare’s premiere performance of Whitacre’s “Alleluia” was a clear highlight. A spectral sustained note at the start folded into warm chords that were reluctant to resolve. Quite stunning.
The premiere of “Occuli Omnium,” a grace written for Sidney Sussex College at the University of Cambridge, was of a similar mind, though somehow not quite as sublime.
If Whitacre’s work is heavenly, Peter Scott Lewis’ is more Freudian and self-conscious.
His work “The Changing Light,” was based on the words of the esteemed Beat poet, San Francisco publisher, Lawrence Ferlinghetti.
The poetry came from Ferlinghetti’s more recent, more naturalistic work, evoking the sunlight of San Francisco, the moon and birds in the underbrush.
But, to borrow one of the poet’s own lines, the music accompaniment felt “anchorless upon the ocean.” No real melody, little in the way of discernible structure or polyphony, Lewis’ work was like a palate cleanser that lasted a whole meal. Fans of the written word among the audience might have preferred the choir mount a poetry reading.
In any case, the afternoon ended with Whitacre’s “Sleep,” a stiff but welcome contrast that sent us away in a lingering meditative state.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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January 10, 2012
Review: 'The Children's Hour'
Reputations are fragile things. Often requiring years to build, they can come crashing down with the slightest change of social tides. Lillian Helman’s play, “The Children’s Hour,” produced by Different Stages and playing now through January 28 at City Theater, explores the havoc that a petulant child can wreak on the lives and reputations of the people around her.
First produced in 1934 and made into a film in 1961 starring Shirley MacLaine and Audrey Hepburn, “The Children’s Hour” has achieved a reputation as a seminal piece of twentieth-century theater. Under the direction of Karen Jambon, the ensemble achieves the intensity and pathos that Helman’s dialogue calls for, making it a moving performance of a somewhat antiquated script.
In “The Children’s Hour,” Mary Tilford (Laura Ray), a petulant and spoiled student at a girls’ boarding school, ruins the lives of her two schoolmistresses (Bridget Farias and Nikki Zook) by insinuating a lesbian relationship. Perhaps Helman’s plot was socially progressive eighty years ago, reflecting the destructive social attitudes of its time. But today, the play feels more like a museum piece than a social expose. Given the tragic denouement of the story, one can’t quite chalk it up as a victory for gay rights or even tolerance.
Nonetheless, the production is solid, with strong performances from both new and familiar faces. The large ensemble of schoolgirls is excellent, creating an atmosphere of youth and enthusiasm as a cheerful counterpoint for the train wreck on the horizon. As Rosalie, the child dragged into Mary’s web of lies, Helen Hulka convinces us of her guileless innocence, making Mary all the more wicked in contrast.
The role of Mary is a challenging one, requiring a level of duality that Laura Ray does not quite achieve - she must at once be an adult playing a child, and yet, a child who is playing at adult games. Ray succeeds in making her character sufficiently manipulative and vile, but we can’t find enough sympathy for the orphaned little girl.
As the ingenuous schoolmistress Karen Wright, Nikki Zook’s performance brings the vital emotional gravitas to the final act. Zook’s Karen is graceful and straightforward, shouldering the burden of defeat with heartrending strength.
Different Stages breaks this two and a half hour play into three pieces, making the performance move smoothly and quickly from climactic scene to climactic scene, and allowing some respite from the dramatic intensity of the story that unfolds.
‘The Children’s Hour’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays through Jan. 28. . $15-$30. City Theater, 3823 Airport, www.main.org/diffstages
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 12, 2011
Review: Tapestry Dance's "Of Mice & Music"
Like clockwork, here we are again: the season of Nutcrackers. Professional and amateur dance productions alike abound in December, and for families of budding dance students, “The Nutcracker” is an obligatory event, perhaps as routine as that annual physical.
But some productions are more imaginative than others, and Tapestry Dance Company’s presentation of “Of Mice and Music: A Jazz Nutcracker,” which involves several dozen academy students as well as the company’s professionals and executive artistic director Acia Gray, is like an inspired peppermint dessert — a sweet breath of fresh air with just the right amount of holiday spirit — amidst the more cookie cutter options.
Tchaikovky’s classical composition is translated into jazz live by quartet Blue J (Jim Collard on guitar, Josh Espinoza on bass, Masumi Jones on drums, and Owen Summers on sax). As the production is only an hour, the score is whittled down to the essentials, and it’s fun to pick out various moments aurally from the original ballet (This is where Clara and her friends rock their baby dolls to sleep! Ah, the battle between the Nutcracker and the Rat King is about to ensue!). While clearly the majority of the audience Friday night at the Carver Center’s Boyd Vance Theatre consisted of family and friends of the dancers, such was not my case, and I wasn’t bored.
Consisting of a mix of dance genres (though tap dominates), the production kicks off with the Tacky Christmas Sweater Club tapping into the party, soon followed by the arrival of Clara’s friends. A mix of adult and teen students fill the stage with a combination of attitude and polished performances. The tiny ones fill the roles of the Little Mice and Rhythm Rats. A gaggle of girls don the tiniest tap shoes you’ve ever seen paired with grey leotards, tights, and mouse ears and tails; intermittently, Summers blows a whistle to produce a squeaking noise as the mice traipse around the stage, led by Tapestry company member Travis Knights. The boys sport top hats and coat tail suits, and hold their own in a tap-off with Knights.
Knights is simply a phenomenal tapper, and he embodies the character of the Rat King by invoking claws with his hands and maintaining that peculiar facial expression of the rat in pursuit of something tasty (he finds what he’s looking for when he nibbles on the Marzipan Toy’s leg). Similarly, Matt Shields’ Russian Toy is a delight to watch — his powerful tapping, melded with those Russian squats and turns, and sustained portrayal of cross-armed character, are exciting.
Much as Clara receives the gift of rhythm in “Of Mice and Music,” Tapestry’s production is a gift for the weary-eyed Nutcracker-goer.
‘Of Mice and Music’ continues through Dec. 17 at Boyd Vance Theatre, Carver Museum, 1137 Angelina St. $15=$25. www.tapestry.org
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 7, 2011
Review: 'Housebreaking'
Well before the Great Recession, Eddie Murphy and Dan Akroyd swapped roles as millionaire and street urchin in the hit comedy “Trading Places.” The film commented on (what we would now deem) the differences between the one and the ninety-nine percent, but it did so with the kind of tongue-in-cheek, slapstick humor that left us feeling warm and fuzzy.
Jakob Holder’s play, “Housebreaking,” on the other hand, running now through December 17 at The Compound and produced by Poison Apple Initiative, is a darker, more intimate, and highly socially relevant take on our morbid fascination with the less fortunate. It highlights the value of a few hundred dollars to those who have nothing to left to lose, and though it’s definitely a funny play, “warm and fuzzy” clearly isn’t in Holder’s vocabulary. Originally showcased in 2009, the play is a product of the recession, and Poison Apple’s production taps into the cultural Zeitgeist of economic discontent.
Working a dead-end office job, Chad (Juston Street) is a sardonic and bitter thirty-something who has reached his breaking point. After a night of heavy drinking, Chad picks up a homeless stranger, promising him a hot shower and something to eat. With minimal convincing, Chad’s oddly apathetic family accepts the filthy and cowering Carmine (Sam Mercer) as a long-lost uncle, and we get glimpses of an ugly familial past.
“Housebreaking” is a slow burning play: carefully crafted to keep us curious and engaged. It begins in medias res, and we have to wait patiently for each piece of the story to come together - but the payoff is worth the wait. Poison Apple’s production skillfully navigates the dark waters of this funny and ferocious drama.
Under the direction of Bastion Carboni, the well-cast ensemble delivers nuanced and emotional performances. “Housebreaking” showcases the actors’ versatility, and though his character remains consistent, Al Bianchi’s rendering of the happy-go-lucky, sport-obsessed patriarch fits well with the contrast created by the others. As Magda, Elizabeth Bigger is in top form - deftly negotiating her character’s major shifts. Mercer’s performance begins with the sorrowful shuffling of the downtrodden and builds slowly to a powerful finish.
The non-traditional space of The Compound (a sometime recording studio and music venue, selected for its functional kitchen) provides an intimate setting for this intense and darkly funny play. The main drawbacks to the space are a support pole that somewhat obstructs the view, and the conventional lighting that robs the play’s finale of its gravitas.
‘Housebreaking’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through Dec. 17, Tickets $12-$20, Thursdays pay-what-you-can. The Compound, 1300 E 4th St. email: poisonappleinitiave@gmail.com for reservations.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 6, 2011
Review: 'God of Carnage'
When it comes to entertainment, not much beats witnessing a full-blown tantrum from a grown up. Multiply the meltdown by four, and you get Yasmina Reza’s award-winning comedy of manners, “God of Carnage,” which shows us just how funny it can be when parents stop being polite.
The French playwright is well known for her humorous attacks on bourgeois society, and “God of Carnage’s” success has translated well across continents. Extremely popular in Paris and London, the play ran for more than 400 performances on Broadway, winning a Tony for best play of 2009. Here in Austin, “God of Carnage” will run through Jan. 8 as Zach Theatre continues to bring New York’s most popular contemporary plays down to Texas.
While I’m inclined to agree with the New York critical community’s opinion of the play’s rather vapid content, “God of Carnage” is certainly box office gold. Combining middle-class pretension with slapstick humor and the inevitably funny spectacle of bodily fluids, the show is a raucous carnival of shifting allegiances and witty one-liners.
The premise is simple: Two sets of upper-middle-class parents have come together to discuss a fight between their 11-year-old boys. Veronica (Lauren Lane), the micro-managing mother of the injured child, wants an apology from the aggressor. But when she insists that not only should he say he’s sorry, but also that he must mean it, she makes the fatal mistake of trying to parent other people’s children. When her husband, Michael (Thomas Ward), doesn’t come to her aid, the pretenses of polite society begin to fall away. And what happens in comedies when mothers forget their manners? The claws come out.
Though initially the most placating member of the group, the other mother, Annette (Angela Rawna), eventually reaches her breaking point - brought on by her husband, Alan’s (Eugene Lee), intrusive commitment to his career and the help of a healthy dose of alcohol. Over the course of ninety minutes we get to see the worst of all four adults.
Under the direction of Matt Lenz, the cast is energetic and keeps the show moving at a rapid pace. As the more conciliatory half of the couples, Angela Rawna’s and Thomas Ward’s performances stand out. Ward provides the most steadily developed deterioration, and we delight in his ultimate commitment to setting pretenses aside.
Michael Raiford’s lovely set drops us right into the lives of these materialistic (and swiftly unraveling) marriages. The script calls for an impressive bit of stage business, and Zach Scott’s production pulls this off with the technical precision we’ve come to expect from Austin’s leading professional theater.
‘God of Carnage’ continues 8 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through Jan. 8. Tickets $25-$65 Zach Theater’s Kleiberg Stage. 1510 Toomey Road. www.zachtheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
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December 5, 2011
Review: Ballet Austin's "The Nutcracker"
I’ve seen (and been in) more Nutcrackers than I can count. But I experienced a first Saturday at the opening night of Ballet Austin’s 49th annual production of “The Nutcracker” at the Long Center — seeing the much-beloved ballet with someone who had never seen it before. Ever. In fact, he’d never even seen live classical ballet before.
“The Nutcracker” is oftentimes touted as the great introductory ballet for those who have no or limited knowledge of dance of the classical variety. I believe this is the case for a couple of reasons.
Firstly, at only two acts, it is a relatively short ballet, with a run time of something around two hours; Ballet Austin’s version, with choreography by Artistic Director Stephen Mills and set to Tchaikovsky’s 1892 score performed live by the Austin Symphony, is no exception. Many more of the classics, such as “Swan Lake” and “Sleeping Beauty,” are three-act ballets (in the case of “Beauty,” the addition of a prologue takes the run time up to around three-plus hours, making it a long haul for those who aren’t ballet aficionados).
Secondly, the story-telling aspect is absolutely key to “The Nutcracker”; the first scene of Act I, which portrays a Christmas Eve party, largely consists of pantomiming, rather than dancing. It’s not until the last minutes of Act I, when the Snow Queen and King take the stage along with the ballet corps of snowflakes, that the real dancing begins. Act II continues the dancing, with solos, pas de deuxs and group numbers. The structure of the ballet perhaps makes it easier for youngsters to ease into it, who can be inclined to ask during ballet performances, “Why isn’t anyone talking?” (My own sister is guilty as charged — with a tug of Mom’s sleeve, she asked this question when she was five at a screening of “George Balanchine’s ‘The Nutcracker.’”)
While my companion for the evening was someone who has seen quite a bit of dance (especially in his capacity as a flamenco guitarist), he had never before experienced “The Nutcracker.” At the conclusion of the first act — which features polished performances by students from the Ballet Austin Academy, including Blake Cooper and Peyton Cunningham who share the coveted role of Clara — my companion was eager to experience Ballet Austin’s professional dancers’ performances in the second act.
Preston Andrew Patterson, who led the boisterous Russian dance with unparalleled energy, garnered the most applause of any dancer the entire evening for his explosive jumps and clean turns. Oren Porterfield’s spry performance in the whimsical French dance was one of the more technically challenging.
At times, however, the orchestral work outshone the dance, as climactic moments were achieved aurally with the music but not visually with the choreography (or with the dancers’ interpretations of said choreography, such as in the Sugar Plum Fairy and Cavalier’s pas de deux, which fell flat).
Audiences at “The Nutcracker” tend to be more varied than for any other ballet — from bunheads to proud parents, aficionados to first-time viewers, “The Nutcracker” brings people together to experience a holiday tradition.
Ballet Austin’s “The Nutcracker” continues through Dec. 23. See www.balletaustin.org for tickets.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
December 2, 2011
Review: KDH Dance's "Flash Dance"
Don’t forget to pick up a pair of 3-D viewing glasses before you take your seat at Kathy Dunn Hamrick Dance Company’s “Flash Dance: 30 More Dances in 60 Minutes,” now at Salvage Vanguard. You’ll need them for a few minutes of dizzying visual effects.
The 3D segment is just one of several directions Hamrick sends this rapidly paced modern dance program. Indeed, Hamrick seemingly throws in everything and the kitchen sink for a spirited if somewhat artistically incohesive performance.
With the current production Hamrick revives the format of her previous “Flash Dance” program from a few years ago in which her troupe flew through 30 dances in 60 minutes, staying on time thanks to a kitchen timer. Now, the audience is invited to set their cell phone timer functions to exactly 60 minutes to tick away the time.
Thursday’s premiere, the first of four shows, was sold-out with a considerable waiting list.
With dances counted down by a sometimes seemingly arbitrary flip of video-projected numbers, the troupe of nine dancers whipped through a cornucopia images and styles, from vigorous athletics to sweet narrative scenes to quirky Pilobolus-like antics with cardboard boxes and other props.
Erica Santiago is a compelling performer. Ditto with Andrea Comola Williams and Miko Doi-Smith. Indeed, Hamrick’s company as a whole again proved one the most technically polished on Austin’s modern dance scene.
Stephen Pruitt’s lighting and production design amped up the frenzy of the program with considerable verve.
If more a sampler of styles than a cohesive program, and if a little too reliant on its own conceit, “Flash Dance” nevertheless proved entertaining.
“Flash Dance: 30 More Dances in 60 Minutes” continues through Dec. 3 at Salvage Vanguard Theater. www.kdhdance.com
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November 23, 2011
Review: Austin Playhouse's 'The Lion in Winter'
Like the weather and the earth, all life has its seasons. And as winter closes in, our thoughts inevitably turn to the years behind us and the future ahead. “The Lion in Winter,” playing now through December 18th at Austin Playhouse at Mueller, is the story of a king struggling with the winter of his reign.
On Christmas of 1183, Henry II (Huck Huckaby) is confronted with Lear’s dilemma: three children vying for control of his kingdom. And as if three power-hungry heirs weren’t enough to contend with, Henry’s predicament is complicated by a rebellious spouse, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Babs George), and a mistress half his age, Alais (Kimberly Barrow) — who is also a princess of France, raised by Eleanor (from age 7), who happens to be betrothed to one of Henry’s sons… See? It’s complicated.
Instead of matching towels, Henry and Eleanor have his and hers sons: Henry plans to bequeath the kingdom to his youngest (and most petulant) son, John (Brock England), while Eleanor wants to see her elder son, the virile and aggressive Richard (J. Ben Wolfe), take the throne. But nobody seems to care for Geoffrey (Jason Newman), the smarmy and conniving middle son whose double-crossing is so involved that it’s unclear whether he even knows whose side he’s on.
As the estranged royal progenitors, George and Huckaby have great chemistry on stage, gliding smoothly between affectionate marital bickering and the desperate outrage of stalemate. Loosely based in real British history, James Goldman’s play about this dysfunctional royal family is surprisingly witty for a history play. His dialogue is tightly knit, and the poetic imagery he crafts for his characters is a joy to discover.
Though a bit erratic in terms of design and construction, Diana Huckaby’s costumes are rich and supple, transporting the characters to a medieval castle in a frosty British winter. The set is simple yet effective, and under the direction of Don Toner, the ensemble provides a solid performance.
Like the kingdom of the play, Austin Playhouse is also in transition — breaking ground next spring on their new facility in the Meuller development. “The Lion in Winter” is the first production housed in their temporary facility — just a few yards from the future building site.
The temporary structure is elegant and practical, with excellent acoustics and comfortable seats (taken from the old playhouse). It’s a good idea to attend to the weather report and to dress in layers, however, as insulation is not the facility’s strong point.
“The Lion in Winter” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 5 p.m. Sundays through Dec. 18. $26-28. Austin Playhouse, 1800 1/2 Simond Ave. www.austinplayhouse.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 21, 2011
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra with Anton Nel
The air in the Long Center was extremely dry and cool Friday night, the probable cause of a lot of coughing. But the air also lent the house Steinway piano an icy clarity at the hands of soloist Anton Nel.
Nel, a beloved and longtime Austin resident (and professor at UT) appeared quite sharp in full tux and tails, to play a blistering Liszt piano concerto (No. 2) and the “Symphonic Variations” by Cesar Franck, as well as a encore by Schumann.
This year marks Franz Liszt’s bicentennial, and his second piano concerto is still lush and difficult, with sections that sound like the pianist is fleeing on a bridge above snapping piranhas.
Mellower sections featured beaming horns and a lovely duet with cellist Douglas Harvey. And when the Liszt stormed to its finale you sensed Nel might have gone even faster (and with no loss of precision), but he was reined in to a more reasonable pace by the orchestra. This piece was certainly the evening’s climax.
Conductor Peter Bay and the symphony did quite well on their own. The “Variaciones Concertantes” by Argentina’s Alberto Ginastera has 12 micro-movements with solos working their way through the orchestra. It highlighted some strengths and weaknesses in the various sections, with were some especially fine cello and french horn solos.
Bay’s work stood out in the final movements as he conducted like a ball of energy addressing a flurry of entries and dynamics with a flourish.
The “Symphonic Metamorphosis of themes by Weber” by American composer Paul Hindemith ended the night — a jarring contrast to Nel’s sentimental (and beautiful) encore, the Liszt arrangement of Schumann’s “Widmung.” Despite its bombastic opening, it’s a fine piece with some very pretty flute work on the main theme.
Nel is a dramatic player, more for a monstrous technical precision than for an emotional or lyrical style, but his tone shines at both ends of the keyboard. In the Franck, with its delicate tinkling trills, Nel charged through, delicately declaring each individual note. At times it was too quiet, perhaps, and was blanketed by the orchestra. But in any case, his stunning runs and turns across the piano were more than dramatic enough.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 17, 2011
Review: 'Big Love'
What does it take to move people to extreme action? How far are you willing to go to protect a stranger? Your family? Yourself?
“Big Love,” Charles Mee’s adaptation of the ancient Greek drama “The Suppliants,” explores these questions through the conceit of a wedding — for 50 unwilling brides. Playing now through Nov. 27 in the Rollins Studio Theatre at the Long Center and directed by Robert Faires, this quirky comedy based in ancient Italy deals with myriad concerns facing the contemporary world: the complexity of gender roles, the responsibility of asylum, and the nature of justice.
Led by their sister Lydia (Shannon Grounds), 50 women have fled Greece to escape an arranged marriage to their 50 male cousins. Arriving in a foreign land, the sisters seek asylum from complete strangers, an Italian family led by the matriarch Bella (Lana Dietrich), her eldest son Piero (Robert Matney), and their sprightly, effeminate nephew Guiliano (played by the utterly charming Michael Slefinger). Ia Enstera’s luminescent set design achieves a lovely degree of depth in the spotlessly white world of the Italian villa.
When the grooms arrive to reclaim their contractual rights, the play follows the negotiations that ensue. “Big Love” ends up being less about romance and more about rhetoric — about the force of words to incite, to compel and to justify appalling behavior. The intoxicating poetry of the arguments bewitches us with a desire to agree with most of the characters, only to realize that their positions are antithetical.
Andrea Smith’s character, Olympia, explores whether materialism is at odds with women’s rights. Initially coming across as a poster-child for the embedded sexism of the 21st century, Smith sways us with her sincerity: coming from her, it doesn’t seem wrong to want a man’s love, to want to submit.
And though Piero gives in to the totalitarian demands of the hyper-aggressive groom, Constantine (Rommel Sulit), Matney’s gentle and sympathetic performance makes his decision difficult to condemn.
The production falters, however, in the monochromatic anger of Thyona (Julianna Elizabeth Wright) and Constantine. Their performances fail to achieve the understanding that the script calls for. Mee’s play sets out to deconstruct stereotypes about gender roles and expectations, but Shrewd Productions’ staging inadvertently manages to reinforce a few: both through casting and the women’s scene that devolves into a hysterical man-bashing hissy fit.
The men’s parallel scene, however, is one of the most powerful moments of the performance — where the brothers explore the pressures of patriarchy through a beautifully orchestrated, CrossFit-inspired gymnastic routine.
Ultimately, this talky play is surprisingly physical, and though the power of some scenes gets lost in frenetic performances or ineffectual props, there are many moments of beauty in this production of a thought-provoking comedy.
“Big Love” continues through Nov. 27. Long Center for the Performing Arts, $15-$25, www.thelongcenter.org.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kimberley Mead.
November 15, 2011
Review: Texas State's 'Oklahoma'
A play about home and community, history and survival, the setting for “Oklahoma!” matters much less than the sentiments expressed: that the sounds of the earth are like music, that territory folks should stick together, and that life is pretty lonely without someone to love.
Playing through Sunday at the Mainstage Theatre Center in San Marcos, Texas State’s production of this classic piece of musical theater from Rogers and Hammerstein shines a spotlight on the school’s outstanding musical theater program under the direction of Kaitlyn Hopkins.
Set at the turn of the century, in a territory on the brink of statehood, the show circles around a small-town romance, and how a community negotiates the changing social sphere of settlement. The reverse psychology courtship of the two main characters, Laurey Williams (Natalie Rankin) and Curly (Tim Heller), backfires rather badly at first, but we love coming along for the ride. Heller opens the musical by singing his way on stage, belting out a beautiful greeting to the day ahead and setting the bar high for the lovely voices we’ll be hearing.
Aside from stellar vocal performances from the full cast, Texas State’s production treats the audience to an array of exceptional dance numbers. Choreographed by Tom Truss, the performance is a nice mix of traditional and more contemporary approaches to dance. And in the true spirit of a training institution, two of the numbers are choreographed by students themselves. Sean McGibbon’s outstanding choreography for the “Kansas City” number will leave you wishing you could jump out of your seat and join in.
McGibbon and Emily Gee make up the second lead couple, Will Parker and Ado Annie, and the two performers are well matched — playing the adorable and enthusiastic ingénues with spunk and sincerity.
Brandon Mabry succeeds in playing the villain of the piece, Jud Fry, as a thoroughly despicable lout, but Mabry’s voice proves so lovely that he very nearly redeems his character. Christopher Sousa-Wynn’s scenic design is inventive and engaging, and combined with Sheila Hargett’s costumes, the show transports us back to a time when a seven-story skyscraper was as far as a building could go.
The musical itself might reflect some of the more stodgy and sexist attitudes of both the time it was set and the time it was written, but if we look past that surface and into the spirit of the performance, we can’t help but have a great time.
The cast exhibits the kind of boundless energy that makes musical theater the joyful experience it ought to be, and this production proves that Texas State is out to make a name for itself as a nationally recognized program.
“Oklahoma!” continues 7:30 p.m. today-Saturday; 1 and 7 p.m. Sunday. Tickets $12, $7 for students.Mainstage Theatre Center, 430 Moon St., San Marcos. www.theatreanddance.txstate.edu
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: '360 (round dance)'
Desire always has its price.
What people are willing to pay — both literally and figuratively — to fulfill their desires is the subject of “360 (round dance),” Steven Dietz’s engaging new play produced by UT’s Department of Theatre and Dance, directed by Courtney Sale.
In the first scene of the play, that price is a monetary one. An exotic dancer (Quetta Carpenter) tries to squeeze as much money as she can from a soldier who obviously desires her (Dan Lendzian). She loses this power game, though, when he steals her valuable bracelet and flees.
In the next scene, we see the soldier engaged in a different kind of transaction with his girlfriend who works as a maid (Kelli Schultz). And so it goes, this dance, as we watch ten dialogues in which power shifts and allegiances change.
The minimalist set (designed by Chris H. Yoo) provides the perfect backdrop for the constant action, with a series of revolving panels that allow for quick transitions. Most of the time seeking sex, sometimes seeking connection, around and around the characters go.
As in most of Dietz’s plays, the dialogue is fast-paced and sharp. Dietz is particularly good at creating lines that seem to pithily sum up a relationship, as when a husband (Jeremy Lee Cudd) tells his wife (Alexis Scott) that “marriages are nothing but great friendships interrupted by moments of passion.”
Dietz based “360 (round dance)” on the 1900 play “Reigen” (also known as “La Ronde”) by Arthur Schnitzler. Schnitzler’s controversial original version was about how sex (and possibly syphilis) connected people across the lines of social class. In his contemporary adaptation, Dietz keeps the situations in the play roughly the same but places more emphasis on how the characters psychologically negotiate their desires.
With an adaptable cast that includes UT faculty members, graduate students, and undergraduates, Dietz and director Sale have made “360 (round dance)” into an energetic, tightly woven interplay between sex, power, and economies of desire.
“360 (round dance)” continues at 8 p.m. Nov. 17-19 and 2 p.m. Nov. 20. Oscar G. Brockett Theatre, Winship Building, 300 E. 23rdSt. $15-$20. www.texasperformingarts.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Jeff Heimsath.
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November 10, 2011
Review: 'South Pacific'
A tropical breeze blows through Austin this week as the national tour of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical “South Pacific” hits Bass Concert Hall.
The show, based on the 2008 Tony Award-winning Lincoln Center Theater production, takes place on a Pacific island during World War II and focuses on two love stories affected by racial prejudice and cultural difference.
Ensign Nellie Forbush (Katie Reid), a nurse and self-proclaimed “hick” from Little Rock falls for a charming Frenchman, Emile de Becque (Marcelo Guzzo), but is troubled by his past relationship with a Polynesian woman. Meanwhile the handsome Lt. Joseph Cable (Shane Donovan) finds himself enamored with Liat (Hsin-Yu Liao), a young native islander, much to the delight of her calculating mother Bloody Mary (Cathy Foy-Mahi).
Watching “South Pacific” is like stepping into a vintage postcard of the tropics. The sumptuous set, designed by Michael Yeargan, evokes the lush landscape of the islands, while lighting designer Donald Holder creates enchanting sunsets that slowly fade from brilliant orange to hazy purple. From the girlish playfulness of Nellie’s “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair” to the high-energy sailor song “There Is Nothin’ Like a Dame,” the show’s music is infectious. When Guzzo, who has an opera background, sings “Some Enchanted Evening,” his rich and resonant voice fills the space.
When “South Pacific” debuted in 1949, it was timely and fresh. Now, the show has a decidedly nostalgic feel and traffics in some outdated stereotypes about “natives.” Still, the production charms with its gorgeous design, strong vocal performances, and memorable melodies.
‘South Pacific’ continues 8 p.m. today, 2 and 8 p.m. Saturday, 1 and 7 p.m. Sunday. Bass Concert Hall, UT campus. www.texasperformingarts.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 7, 2011
Review: Austin Lyric Opera's 'The Magic Flute'
Forget the shadow of financial difficulty that’s been cast over Austin Lyric Opera in the past year or so.
Or at least put that shadow aside for the three hours of ALO’s sunny, delightful turn with “The Magic Flute” which opened Saturday at the Long Center in a production by Milwaukee’s Florentine Opera This “Flute” trades deftly on lightness, maximizing and modernizing the comic content of Mozart’s masterpiece without sacrificing any of the essentials.
Against a spare yet fluid all-white set of platforms, ramps and moving panels that captured projections and lighting designs, an energetic and solidly good cast delivered an animated, fresh-feeling production of the opera that ALO began with 25 years ago.
With his spot-on comic timing and physical antics, David Adam Moore is the show stealer as Papageno, and his strong rich baritone nicely balance the shenanigans. Likewise, tenor Doug Jones comically amps up his turn as Monostatos while also never forsaking his very good vocal performance.
The lovely, clear-voiced lyric soprano Hanan Alattar gives her Pamina just enough of moxie to modernize the classic sweetheart role. And as Tamino, tenor Arthur Espiritu garnered a bravo Juliet Petrus does well as the Queen of the Night, competently delivering the challenging and famous Der Hölle Rache aria. James Moellenhoff makes a commanding Sarastro with his full round tones.
If the set by Noele Stollmack actd as a simple white canvas, Christianne Myers’ inspired, whimsical costumes — with sartorial quotes from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” among other contemporary references — more than supply the visual gratification.
Conductor Richard Buckley expertly took a “less is more” approach to Mozart’s beautiful score Stage director James Marvel gives the cast plenty of waggish gestures and movements with just the right hints of camp to make for a terrifically performed fantasy.
A sparkling, joyful performance from start to finish, this “Magic Flute” has plenty of aplomb.
“The Magic Flute” continues 7:30 p.m. Friday and 3 p.m. Sunday at the Long Center, 701 W. Riverside Dr. Tickets: $19-$135. www.austinlyricopera.org.
Image: David Adam Moore as Papageno and Jamie-Rose Guarrine and Papagena. Photo by Mark Matson for Austin Lyric Opera.
Review: 'Guest by Courtesy'
Hannah Kenah and Jenny Larson have a natural chemistry onstage. Their ease of expression is apparent in “Guest by Courtesy,” a comedy written by Kenah about two cousins who are at times at hysterical odds with one another, and at other moments poignantly in tune with each other.
Upon entering the Salvage Vanguard Theater, the audience is greeted with a strange domestic image: a white couch upon which sit two women, all covered in a white sheet. As the sheet slips off the back of the couch, the cousins come into being — Kenah in a frilly, pink floor-length gown, Larson in a blue dress complete with a white bib. Larson is exaggeratedly slouched, her face donning a grimace of sorts, while Kenah sits upright. Slowly, they switch positions; this is their metaphor.
Over the course of an hour or so, the cousins laugh and fight, wrestle and dialogue. “You are a crazy bitch,” they tell each other one instant; “Confession: I have forgotten how to read,” says Kenah the next (“You can’t be lounging naked without literature,” is Larson’s response). The third actor, Jason Hays, provides a break from the Kenah-Larson duo in his portrayals of Kenah’s husband and Larson’s love interest.
The physicality of the performances is the ribbon that holds the package together — wild facial expressions, sweeping gestures and encroachment of personal space punch up the entertainment value. Oftentimes, the movement is as important as the dialogue. Every so often, a spare piano soundtrack begins to play (original score by Graham Reynolds), morphing our reading of the cousins’ actions into an odd ballet of kind.
Though markedly unique in character, the cousins never stray far from one other; they are bound by family history, whether they like it or not. Most of the time, it all works out just fine.
“Guest by Courtesy” continues through Nov. 19 at Salvage Vanguard Theater. www.salvagevanguard.org
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 31, 2011
Review: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde'
An appropriately eerie fog made blurry the set onstage at UT’s B. Iden Payne Theatre Friday evening for the opening of the Department of Theatre and Dance’s “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” an adaptation by Jeffrey Hatcher of Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella, “Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”
And what better time to present this work than the weekend leading up to Halloween? On-the-mark acting, beautifully dark scenic and costume designs, and the direction work all meld to create an ironically unified vision for this story about split personalities.
The entirely student-produced production features six actors from the department’s MFA and BA programs who don intricate Victorian-era wigs, makeup and garb (Yao Chen’s designs for the coats and stiff, popped collared shirts are marvelous), and live in a society of old world wrought-iron grills and austere edifices (scenic design by Rowan Doyle).
Directed by MFA candidate Daria Davis, the technical aspects of “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” reinforce the central theme: the Jekyll/Hyde split. While Will Brittain primarily plays the role of the violent Mr. Hyde, three other actors are stand-ins for the character; at other moments, all four Hydes share the stage at once, lined up diagonally, each offering a different twisted perspective. Mr. Hyde, as Dr. Jekyll’s (Kyle Christopher Schnack) evil doppelganger, is capable of anything, so it is appropriate that multiple actors portray his multitude of actions. Brittain is menacing at one instant, then soft the next when in the presence of his love, Elizabeth Jelkes (Liz Kimball). The set, though unchanged throughout both acts, makes use of the space dynamically by incorporating columns on wheels utilized to divide and subdivide the space accordingly.
As the play is about a man who, in an alternative state of mind, commits multiple murders and other atrocities, the issue of lifeless bodies and blood and how to portray them on the stage is raised. This production offers creatively dramatic solutions — stuffed sacks are stand-ins for corpses, and bags slashed open to spill blood-red beans and sand artfully imitate the escape of vital fluids from the body.
When Dr. Jekyll comes to the realization of his own guilt, suicide seems his only option to forever silence his murderous side. And yet Mr. Hyde, who approaches the audience head-on by stepping out onto the thrust stage, red sand all the while draining from the sack in his hand, has somehow managed to survive. He has come into his own as the true Dr. Jekyll.
“Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” continues through Nov. 6 at UT’s B. Iden Payne Theatre. www.texasperformingarts.org
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 24, 2011
Review: Ensemble VIII
James Morrow’s Ensemble VIII is probably the most specialized arts ensemble in Austin — aside from the Bach Cantata Project, another of Morrow’s groups.
Last Friday’s concert at St. Louis Catholic Church on Burnet Road was their first of the season (last season consisted of a single preview concert of sorts). Yet they’ve already found a following in the cross-section of lovers of choirs and lovers of sacred music.
Eight singers, including Morrow himself, sing pieces from the Renaissance and Baroque eras, building on a strong base for early music here in Austin.
It’s a niche that’s much smaller than most groups would agree to. Unlike the Texas Early Music Project (TEMP), which dedicates itself to both instrumental and choral music of a similar period, Ensemble VIII sings with neither lutes or flutes, though that may change.
Not that they’ll run out of a capella music anytime soon. As TEMP has long known, and Conspirare showed at its weekend festival of Renaissance and Baroque music last January, it’s like a theatre group restricting itself to plays from the Greeks through Shakespeare — there is a ton of beautiful work, almost none of it well known.
On Friday, it was the music of Renaissance Spain, with Victoria (1548-1611) and Morales (1500-1553).
Morales’ work was the evening’s find, with dense, swirling voices that circle each other. To modern ears it recalls Bach, and following the harmony and melody patterns as they trade from one singer to the next, is a brain workout.
This is the kind of music that appears in murder mysteries at the climactic death scene.
The singing was crisp, resonant and cohesive. The ensemble were like a small orchestra of voices.
Especially stunning was the work written expressly for all eight voices. It goes full-tilt, each unique part flows gorgeously in and out of the whole.
The first half was lively and moving, with short, often brilliant works. In the second half, we heard Victoria’s requiem, “Officium Defunctorum,” a slower moving event.
The more sombre Victoria is a cause for meditation. It’s a long and beautiful work that probably asked a little too much of the audience for a Friday night concert.
And again, one must ask whether it remains necessary to force the audience to crane their necks with seats perpendicular to the singers. If it is some issue of historical accuracy, let us hope for a renaissance of comfortable seating.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
October 18, 2011
Review: Ibsen's "Ghosts"
Though October may be the special season for donning costumes and seeking thrills, artists have spent lifetimes exploring the ways in which people try to escape the pasts that haunt them.
With their current production of Henrik Ibsen’s “Ghosts,” running now through Nov. 5 at Hyde Park Theater, the team of Breaking String Theater and Penfold Theatre Company are reincarnating a modern classic.
The play is as much about isolation as it is about the past, and it illustrates the struggles of a strong woman living in a man’s world. At the mercy first of her former husband, now the prudish Pastor Manders (Michael Stewart), Mrs. Alving (Babs George) has limited control over her own life.
More bumbling than brimstone, the Pastor is repeatedly hoodwinked by artificially penitent parishioners such as Jakob Engstrand (Travis Dean). Manders has nothing but faith in men, but he’s so blinded by his own commitment to ideals that he lacks appropriate empathy for his female flock. Yet the women of the play seem to be the only ones capable of recognizing the difference between truth and ideals.
In her role as the enduring widow, Babs George performs with strength, compassion, and a twinkle of spunky rebellion. Unlike some of Ibsen’s other female figures, Mrs. Alving is a doting mother, fiercely protective of her effete and emotionally volatile son, Osvald (Ryan Crowder), whom she exiled at an early age for his own protection.
A story that traces the consequences of seduction and debauchery, dissipation and hypocrisy, “Ghosts” scandalized its original Victorian audiences. For contemporary audiences accustomed to profanity and even occasional nudity onstage, the play’s oblique allusions to syphilis and the frank discussion of “fallen women” are unlikely to shock. And while in some ways the play feels stilted and old-fashioned, director Graham Schmidt strives (with limited success) to make it culturally relevant by adding flourishes of modern staging.
Ia Enstera’s set design is a jarring contrast of heavy-handed literalism (a web-like backdrop to the second act’s discussion of strings and threads) and period-appropriate pieces of furniture. Similarly, Steven Shirey’s fondness for saturated lighting works well to create an overall ambiance of gloom on the isolated Norwegian island where the play is set, but the lighting effects occasionally veer into unnecessary and melodramatic shifts.
Opening weekend also made clear the difficulties of a short rehearsal period necessitated by employing members of the Actors’ Equity Association. Even the most seasoned performers were occasionally tripping over lines, but this is sure to improve as the run continues.
“Ghosts” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through Nov. 5. Tckets $20 ($18 for students). Hyde Park Theatre, www.hydeparktheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 17, 2011
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra
Art depends on its context. Music, sculpture, architecture — it’s all influenced by what surrounds it. So if you’re mixing one art form with another, there is a lot to consider, but above all, the question is: Do they combine to make a better experience?
Not enough of these questions were posed before this weekend’s performance of Holst’s “The Planets,” by the Austin Symphony Orchestra and conductor Peter Bay at the Long Center.
It was billed as a multimedia experience, but in fact it was a “Hatch Productions” video from 1996, a dated and underwhelming film, the style you might find in a high school library.
The ASO had success with a similar concept last year, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s, “Beyond the Score” documentary production about Dvorak’s writing of his “New World” symphony.
Where that succeeded — live actors, Ken Burnsian photography — the Holst production failed in every measure.
A former astronaut, Colonel Benjamin Alvin Drew Jr., was narrating, but it could have been anyone, reciting facts about the planets and moons. Why not employ his considerable personal experience? The man has flown 10 million miles in space.
And this was in service of low-definition video that moved too quickly, drawing attention away from the music.
Why do this to “The Planets,” one of the great popular orchestral works? Grade school children are captured by its straightforward theme: music about the unique “characters” of our solar system.
If there is a piece that needs no introduction or elaboration to catch the imagination of listeners, this is it. Listeners’ imaginations have already been caught.
One expected more up to date space imagery, like the breathtaking shot of the Horseshoe Nebula on the show’s poster. Surely audiences are not so literal as to require images of only the specific planets.
A single shot of each planet, or at the most, a few images, with very slow, subtle edits, would have improved on the video.
Instead, the churning, jagged animations of a planet’s surface removed all sense of discovery, and showed listeners what to envision.
All this was a shame because the orchestra played a beautiful “Nocturnes” by Debussy, with fine solos, alongside heavenly work by Conspirare’s Symphonic Women’s Chorus, no video required.
And musically, “The Planets” had moments of brilliance. Douglas Harvey’s sublime cello solo in “Venus,” moments of strength from the brass and horns (aside from an occasional squawk), and wonderful textures from the organ and harps.
Let’s hope the ASO weights its next choice of visuals much more carefully.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 11, 2011
Review: 'Spirited'
Improvised theater is often a lot like a child’s imagination — the stories that emerge are filled with unexpected twists and turns, an eclectic array of characters, and a general disregard for logic or the laws of gravity.
So it’s particularly fitting that The Hideout Theatre’s new show, “Spirited” running Saturdays through October 29th, follows a little girl’s adventures in an imaginative and dream-like world of animate objects.
Subtitled “Improvised Dreamscapes” and under the direction of Asaf Ronen, “Spirited” is inspired by the likes of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland,” Maurice Sendak’s “Where the Wild Things Are,” and the work of Japanese manga artist and director Hayao Miyazaki. As a result, the show is both the most family-friendly improv we’ve ever seen and the most imaginative.
On Saturday night, Halyn Erickson donned a frilly red dress and took us on her journey to a land of rocks, geckos, talking canoes, and surprising prophecies. Aided by a particularly large cast (there were 12 improvisers on stage this Saturday), Erickson instigated a human whirlpool, a high-five induced jailbreak, and a delightful rainbow dream sequence.
The whirlpool, rainbow, and a skit involving flaming rocks wouldn’t have been half as exciting if it weren’t for the animated lighting and sound design of Neal Tibrewala and David Zimmerman. The lights and sound in “Spirited” are just as energetic and involved in the story’s development as the actors are themselves.
As can happen with improv, Saturday night’s plot was initially a bit convoluted. Though the performance was clearly spontaneous and frequently amusing, the audience suggestions for both a vice and a virtue of childhood never really materialized as thematic devices or plot points. Eventually, though, storylines emerged as Erickson skipped her way into a series of shenanigans in the unfamiliar world. The highlights included animate jailhouse bars going on strike, flying a dream kite to catch pleasant dreams, and rhyming friendship competition that ended in cake for everyone.
Featuring friendship and hugs, rainbows and puppies, cake-filled dreams and calculus-induced nightmares, “Spirited” is a family-friendly romp into childhood that will leave you smiling as you skip out the door.
“Spirited” continues 6 and 8 p.m. Saturdays Oct. 29. Hideout Theatre, 617 Congress Ave. www.hideouttheatre.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Steve Rogers.
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October 10, 2011
Review: 'Sarah Silver Hands'
I was in the mood before I’d even arrived: “Sarah Silver Hands,” Chad Salvata’s original fairy tale opera developed for Vortex Repertory Company, takes place in the Red Forest of the Autumn Kingdom — and for the first time since we said goodbye to a too-hot September, it really felt like fall. While pulling up to the Vortex Saturday night, rain pitter-pattering on my windshield, visions of pumpkins and autumn leaves filled my head. Upon entering the theater, it was as though my reverie had miraculously materialized before me.
Vortex Repertory Company is known for its elaborate set, costume and makeup design; “Sarah Silver Hands” is no exception. The scenic and lighting design (Ann Marie Gordon and Jason Amato, respectively) together recreated an enchanting autumn forest, complete with a large tree trunk from which dozens of clusters of red-orange-gold leaves and pumpkins hung. Although there was no change of set in either act, the design was so rich it didn’t matter.
No seat is a bad one in the Vortex. The intimate nature of the space allows for even the most intricate details to be easily noticed, making Talena Martinez’s and Salvata’s costume designs all the more enjoyable. The heroine of the evening, Princess Sarah (Christine Kelly Achico) — whose job it is to reconcile differences between her father and the Witch of the Winter Kingdom — wore autumn-themed robes consisting of layered fabrics, which gave the costume a depth that might not have been appreciated in a larger theater.
In the second act, Sarah calls upon three guardians to help her quash the Winter Witch (a commanding Betsy McCann) once and for all, including spring’s Golden Gazelle, summer’s Green Monkey and autumn’s Scarlet Tiger. Each of these actors wears a gorgeous headpiece representing the animal, and a shiny unitard of the appropriate color capped off with gloves and foot pieces. The fingerless tiger gloves are particularly appealing, with claws protruding from the knuckles.
In addition to the visuals, the aural experience is engaging. An opera set to Salvata’s live music, “Sarah Silver Hands” is entirely sung, and sung well, though a by-product of this format, with transitions not clearly demarcated, is that individual songs aren’t easily recalled.
While there are some scary bits for youngsters (namely when Sarah’s hands get cut off and replaced with powerful silver ones), the opera pokes fun at itself enough to maintain an upbeat mood; much of the audience spent a good portion of the show laughing. Act II’s monkey dance was one highlight, as was the Winter Witch’s comedic timing in reaction to Sarah’s despair: “Never mind that.” Hayley Armstrong as the Owl King of the Winter Kingdom was intense, delivering one of the more convincing performances of the evening.
Much like “The Nutcracker” lets us know Christmas is around the corner, “Sarah Silver Hands” sets the stage for fall — and welcome it we shall.
‘Sarah Silver Hands’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through Oct. 30. Vortex Theatre, 2307 Manor Road. $10-$30. www.vortexrep.org.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kimberley Mead.
This entry has been updated to correctly reflect Hayley Armstrong in the role of the Owl King.
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October 4, 2011
Review: Austin Shakespeare's 'Hamlet'
Of all of Shakespeare’s tragedies, “Hamlet” is about nothing if not language.
And in Austin Shakespeare’s current production of “Hamlet,” at the Rollins Studio Theatre, the Bard’s poetry shines.
The success of the production lies on Helen Merino’s captivating performance as the young Hamlet. Merino — who made her mark on the Austin stage before relocating to New York a few years ago — inhabits the role, deftly bringing both an urgency and an introspection to the character, delivering a Hamlet that’s convincingly full of energetic, youthful intellectualism yet also beset by unreasoned juvenile emotion.
Merino conveys Hamlet’s inner conflicts with conviction, dexterously bringing a freshness and individuality to the character’s well-known and potent soliloquies, perhaps the best known in theater history.
If not all of the secondary performances in this production, directed by Austin Shakespeare artistic director Ann Ciccolella, measure up to Merino’s considerable verve, it just focuses more attention on her quick-witted presentation.
Leanly staged with minimal sets, 19th-century period costumes, striking lighting by Jason Amato and Patrick W. Anthony, and a deft use of puppetry to portray the brief ghostly moments of the drama, this “Hamlet” satisfies.
“Hamlet” continues 7:30 p.m. Thursday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday through Oct. 9. Long Center for the Performing Arts, www.thelongcenter.org.
Photo by Kimberley Mead.
Review: 'The Further Adventures of Hedda Gabler'
Old soldiers might fade away, and elephants have their graveyards, but what happens to fictional characters after the curtains close?
According to the Tony-award winning playwright, Jeff Whitty (who wrote the book for hit Broadway musical “Avenue Q”) the timeless figures of the stage live on, doomed to repeat their dramas in a (gratifyingly amusing) purgatorial world of fictional malaise.
St. Edward’s University brings that world to life in the vibrantly comical “Further Adventures of Hedda Gabler,” playing through Oct. 9 at St. Edward University’s Mary Moody Northen Theatre.
As you might anticipate from the title, the show (ostensibly) tracks Ibsen’s ill-fated heroine as she attempts to break out of her endless cycle of suicide. Jill Blackwood plays the petulant drama queen well as she desperately tries to find her way back to the creative furnace that spawned her misery.
Yet what emerges out of Whitty’s characteristically comic approach to more serious issues is a discussion of history’s relationship to fiction and the baby-steps necessary for ending oppression.
The real story, then, is that of “Gone With the Wind’s” Mammy — played with sincerity by Jarrett King. King’s rendition of the character’s struggle to change, to leave behind the shameful shackles of history, is the most moving performance in the play.
So although there is a lot of silliness in “Further Adventures,” there are also moments of real solemnity. Such as the scene in which Johnny Joe Trillayes, as the flamboyant 1970s gay stereotype (Patrick), pleads with Mammy to recognize that their stereotyped (and now offensive) representations were the foothold for times to come.
The production itself is top-notch, with the entire team coming together to create a truly delightful purgatory. Leilah Stewart’s playful scene design meshes well with Kathryn Eader’s inventive lighting display, and Buzz Moran’s exceptional sound design really sets the tone for the scenes. St. Edward’s senior, Austin Rausch, contributes costumes that are elegant, playful, and seemingly innumerable.
The student actors deserve just as much praise as the equity guests. Sophia Franzella is utterly charming regardless of whether she skips her way onto the stage as Dorothy or crawls in as Cassandra. Lindsley Howard has undeniable stage presence, particularly as the woman in pink - a commanding and poetic Cleopatra of the 1970s.
As the cliched characters drop dead around them, the enduring figures in “Further Adventures” remind us that it’s not the imaginations of authors that keep them alive, but the empathy of their audiences.
“The Further Adventures of Hedda Gabler” continues 7:30 p.m. Thursday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday through Oct. 9. Tickets $18. Mary Moody Northen Theatre, St. Edward’s University 3001 S. Congress Ave.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Bret Brookshire.
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October 3, 2011
Review: 'The Mozart Project'
There’s no denying Ballet Austin’s artistic director, Stephen Mills, is a fan of Mozart. His newest creation, a three-piece series collectively titled “The Mozart Project,” was the company’s 2011-2012 season opener, which premiered at the Long Center last weekend. This work comes after Ballet Austin’s prior season’s closer, “The Magic Flute” — another Mozart-inspired ballet. But this time, Mills has taken Mozart to a new level: This is Mozart gone weird.
The first piece of the evening, “Wolftanzt,” was the most classical. Danced to Michelle Schumann and the Austin Chamber Music Center’s live, pure rendition of Mozart’s “Piano Concerto No. 12,” the 15 dancers maintained traditional male-female partnering relationships throughout the piece’s three movements, with Anne Marie Melendez as the lead ballerina, and Aara Krumpe and Rebecca Johnson as the two soloists. They were flanked by the corps de ballet and framed by a pink wonderland image of abstract roses projected onto the back screen onstage, which matched the ballerinas’ knee-length dresses in various shades of pink.
Though she was not the principal dancer in the piece, it was difficult for this writer to unglue her eyes from Johnson, whose physique and movement quality represented and interpreted Mills’ choreography in a seemingly effortless fashion. “Wolftanzt” is a joyful, expansive dance that calls for sweeping arm movements, high leg extensions, and the perfect arabesque line; the long-limbed Johnson delivered on all counts, especially in the slower second movement when she performed a gorgeous series of leg extensions that called out the delicateness of the piano. “Wolftanzt” ultimately communicates a sense of possibility and freedom.
In “Though the Earth Gives Way,” Austin-based composer Graham Reynolds’ musical composition, along with Michael B. Raiford’s set design, represented a dramatic shift from the production’s opening piece. Reynolds’ score was appropriately eerie, with an echo-y, pulsating beat and electric violin layered on top. The opening image — two white-clad women (Ashley Lynn Gilfix and Melendez) standing perfectly still underneath long veils — was flanked on three sides by five floor-to-ceiling light panels that shocked the eyes when illuminated for brief moments throughout the choreography.
The women were then joined by four men in black, who entered the stage by desperately falling into rectangles of light illuminating patches on the floor. The angular choreography — bent knees, sharp arms — comes to a stark conclusion in the piece’s final moments, when all of the gigantic panels flash at once, several times; with each illumination, the dancers are in a new pose. The chilling final image, with the two ghost-women once again covered with their veils, this time facing the audience head-on, is thrilling.
After the tone set at the conclusion of “Though the Earth Gives Way,” the opening of the evening’s final piece, “Echo Boom,” felt slow. The Austin Chamber Music Center began by playing Mozart’s famous “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik,” which was then “remixed” live by Paul D. Miller (also known as DJ Spooky). This introduction went on for a good 15 minutes, accompanied by an at-times-nauseating, black-and-white projection of words, musical notes and barcodes scrolling across a scrim, before the nine dancers entered the stage.
Christopher Swaim was easily the highlight of “Echo Boom”; his limber back and consciousness of stretching the movement while simultaneously maintaining sharpness to his dancing were engaging, despite a crucial moment when Miller’s composition, in suddenly switching gears to the dissonant, wobbly sound of electronic dance genre dubstep, created a need for audience adjustment to fall back under the spell of the dance.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freealance arts writer.
Image: “Wolftanzt” from “The Mozart Project.” Photo by Tony Spielberg.
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September 27, 2011
Review: Anne Akiko Meyers and Bion Tsang with Austin Chamber Music
The Austin Chamber Music Center’s 2011-12 season opened with a typically challenging and diverse concert at the First Unitarian Church Saturday night. Not only did it feature music that veers slightly off the beaten path, but it enlisted two of our city’s finest to play it, Anne Akiko Meyers and Bion Tsang.
Those who have seen Meyers on a larger stage will attest to her uncommon intensity. She was born to play big halls and auditoriums.
Meyers’ facial expressions communicate concentration, determination and, occasionally, satisfaction. At times her tone pierced the air of the church with an overwhelming delivery of sound.
In Ravel’s “Sonata for Violin and Piano” each movement is strictly unlike its predecessor. It’s got some fierce counterpoint, and called on Meyers to play her Stradivarius, according to Ravel, “like a banjo.”
A few in the audience shuddered at that thought, but Meyers really plucked the string with force before whirling through the nimble third movement.
Like the other works of the evening, it showcased the cross-pollination of French and Asian culture that occurred after Ravel and Debussy attended the World’s Fair in Paris.
Tsang and ACMC director Michelle Schumann opened the evening with Debussy’s “Sonata for Cello and Piano.”
Tsang gave silence plenty of space in the first movement, and though some tones felt a little thin the indelible tune carried nicely and his pizzicato was sensitive and lush.
“Black Earth” by Fazil Say achieves a neat middle eastern effect by manipulating the piano strings. Schumann paced the work beautifully.
The “Piano Trio No. 1 in D minor” by Anton Arensky caused a moment of drama when one of the piano pages was discovered missing. It brought things to a brief halt, and a smile or a laugh by the trio might have relaxed the tension, but by the third movement it was ancient history.
For all this outstanding playing, the atmosphere of the First Unitarian Church can be hard to love.
Mostly, it’s the lack of stage lighting. There is something in the human species that prefers sitting in darkness; perhaps an atavistic memory of campfire stories.
Darkness removes distraction, focuses our eyes stage-ward, and helps us locate that special feeling of absorption. It delineates a line that separates our ordinary lives from the stage, and even for music this good, that separation matters.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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September 26, 2011
Review: Conspirare
Samuel Barber referred to himself as a “living dead composer,” explained Margaret Perry in her pre-concert lecture this weekend before the Conspirare concert. It’s a humble-brag: Barber felt confident he would be remembered, but his name never seemed to be on the tongue of America’s music lovers, even though the “Adagio” which cemented his legacy appeared in film after film.
So it was a pleasure to hear Conspirare’s voices open their 19th season with an all-Barber concert under the direction of Craig Hella Johnson.
The two halves of the concert pulled us much deeper into Barber’s repertoire, and revealed very different styles in Barber’s choral work.
These were fairly short works that had rhythmic intrigue, sometimes elusive harmonies against lyrics that were by turns abstract and poetic.
“God’s Grandeur” began with bold, goose-bumping chords, and outstanding tone from the tenor and bass voices. The hall sounded noticeably crisp and reverberant.
“Let Down the Bars, O Death,” was especially pretty, if dark; haunting in subject, key and its brevity.
The male and female voices refuse to intersect in “To be Sung on the Water,” a gorgeous work that implies a sorrowful distance between the two voices.
When the first notes of the “Adagio” came rolling slowly through the hall the choir was both chilling and uplifting.
Conspirare fans will impatiently await its recording.
Composer Robert Kyr, in attendance at the performance, did us the service of rearranging Barber’s “The Lovers” for a chamber orchestra.
It’s a long work, set to the poetry of Pablo Neruda.
There are some erotic lines, but most are quite chaste, and the music looks more to the sublime side of love: a vulnerability and sense of loss.
Some lyrics are quite ungainly in both translation and their placement in the line, turning soloist David Farwig into the role of a spoken-word poet, as he hustled to stay ahead of the music.
It’s a difficult work without easy melodies, the kind that rewards multiple listens.
Conspirare’s latest CD, “Sing Freedom!” came from last year’s opening concert, and that pattern will repeat with a recording of Barber.
All indications are that it should be a stunner.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'Spring Awakening'
In 2007, a musical called “Spring Awakening” took Broadway by storm. Based on an 1892 play by Frank Wedekind, the show combined foot-stomping rock music with troubling stories of German teenagers coming of age in the 1890s, a time when adults exerted almost total control over their lives.
Zach Theatre’s current season-opening production of “Spring Awakening” captures the energy and heart of the hit show that shocked and exhilarated audiences. Directed with skill by Michael Baron, “Spring Awakening” will have you dancing in your seat one moment, then hit you like a punch to the gut the next.
In the show’s opening scene, a teenage Wendla (Sara Burke) asks her mother where babies come from, but her mother is unwilling to tell the truth. This desire to withhold information runs throughout the show, and ends up leading to disastrous consequences.
A burgeoning sexual relationship between Wendla and the intelligent, rebellious Melchior (Johnny Newcomb) anchors the show. Other characters face pressures as well. Failing in school and desperate to please his parents, Moritz (Jordan Barron) contemplates a dark solution. And Ilse (Elizabeth Koepp) and Martha (Tiffany Mann) both struggle to escape the abuse of their fathers.
Surrounded by clueless and unfeeling authority figures (played with zest by Jason Phelps and Melissa Grogan) the teenagers try to figure out their way in the world.
The cast, which includes several students still in high school, is committed and energized. As Wendla, Sara Burke’s clear, lovely voice is a musical highlight. Barron’s Moritz wears his emotions on his sleeves, and his sensitive portrayal is likely to break your heart.
The passionate and expressive music, composed by Duncan Sheik (with lyrics by Steven Sater) brings to life the characters’ inner angst. The musical numbers with the whole cast, including a shouting anthem of rebellion whose title can’t be printed here, are thrilling. Andrea Beckham’s modern dance inflected choreography deepens the experience of the songs.
Full of poetic staging choices, “Spring Awakening” is visually engaging. Set designer Michael Raiford created a gorgeously detailed environment full of warm colors and sharp lines. Jason Amato’s lighting design frequently transforms the set and changes the mood.
“Spring Awakening” is not a light romp. At every turn, the adults in the teenagers’ lives refuse to tell them the truth, refuse to listen to them, refuse to have compassion.
At one point, one of the girls asks, “But how will we know what to do if our parents don’t tell us?” It’s a testament to the play’s original writer, Frank Wedekind, that this question still resonates a hundred years later, in a completely different time and place.
‘Spring Awakening’ 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m., 2:30 p.m. Sundays through Nov. 13 at Zach Theatre’s Kleberg Stage, S. Lamar Blvd. and Riverside Dr. $35-$55. www.zachtheatre.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
September 21, 2011
Review: "Rain: A Tribute to the Beatles"
In the Live Music Capital of the World, it’s only fitting that the Austin City Limits Music Festival be followed by a tribute to the Fab Four.
This week at the Long Center for Performing Arts, Broadway Across America is bringing us “Rain: A Tribute to the Beatles,” which opened Tuesday and runs through Sunday.
Unlike the “Jersey Boys” musical, “Rain” doesn’t tell the story of the band. Instead, the show is a multimedia-enhanced concert. Emphasizing that none of the music is prerecorded, the musicians get a little help from their friends on the production team. Two large video screens and a lot of special lighting accompany the performance, adding the atmosphere of strawberry fields, Norwegian wood and sitting in an English garden. News and film footage combine with era-appropriate music to bridge the gaps between sets and costume changes.
Joey Curatolo and Steve Landes have certainly mastered the aesthetics and stage personas of the lead vocalists. The singers occasionally get the crowd twisting and shouting, though most of the evening is spent in the seats. For the most part, audience participation is fairly subdued — one reason why this half-concert half-spectacle is a fun, albeit strange, substitute for the original.
“Rain” isn’t quite as glittery as a Broadway Across America show might lead us to expect — the animations aren’t terribly sophisticated and the video editing leaves something to be desired (especially an abrupt opening that shifts from the JFK assassination to screaming Beatles fans). But there is some fun video-graphic magic when the giant screens alternate between screaming-fan footage from historic Beatles performances to that evening’s crowd at the Long Center.
The show also indulges in one of the more annoying aspects of concerts — making you guess whether it’s time to say goodbye. But all in all, “Rain” is a great way to come together and hold your loved one’s hand, getting back to where you once belonged (or where you wish you could have been).
‘Rain: A Tribute to the Beatles’ continues through Sept. 25 at the Long Center. Tickets are $25-$74 www.thelongcenter.org
September 13, 2011
Review: "Marion Bridge"
When we talk about the ties that bind, it’s usually because we wish we could escape.
Yet plays like Daniel MacIvor’s “Marion Bridge,” showing now through Oct. 8 at Hyde Park Theatre, remind us that family (even a dysfunctional one) is the one thing we can always come home to. And sometimes, that’s exactly what we need to do to find ourselves.
One of Canada’s best-known playwrights, MacIvor paints us a portrait of three sisters from Nova Scotia. With an alcoholic actress, a farm-friendly nun, and a soap-opera-obsessed little sister, it’s easy to imagine that this play might turn farcical. And though for the first act, the play can’t seem to make up its mind about being a comedy, by the second half it’s clear that this is a departure from typical Hyde Park fare.
The humor in “Marion Bridge” sweeps over us softly, and the play is ultimately a heartwarming domestic drama about family, faith and making up for past mistakes.
Agnes (Rebecca Robinson), the petulant prodigal daughter, returns home to her Podunk sisters and an ailing mother (offstage). Brought together again by adversity, the sisters try to connect and to cope with their grief over both the past and the present.
While the first act isn’t as emotionally charged as the script might call for, Emily Erington (Theresa) takes the reigns after intermission. Her second appearance in this role (Hyde Park staged the play in 2002), Erington clearly grasps the subtlety and reserve required for the character. She builds the emotional tension slowly, and Theresa’s eventual outburst is consequently heartrending and cathartic.
As the youngest (and strangest) sister, Louise, Kelsey Kling is adorable with her guileless enthusiasm as the awkward ingenue. Kling and Erington have great chemistry on stage, convincing us of their sisterly bonds and (especially important) their difficult-to-pull-off Nova Scotian accents.
On opening weekend, Hyde Park reminded us how important the production aspects of a play can be — the things we so often take for granted: lights, costumes, the “background” of a play. But when lighting cues are missed and costumes distracting we suddenly remember how many aspects of a production have to come together to make a moment magical.
But “Marion Bridge” has many such moments, doused with the dangerous draft of nostalgia. It illustrates the ways in which we all write our own narratives of the past, how our memories are filled with emotional connections we can’t quite explain, but that we can try to share with those we love.
“Marion Bridge” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through. Hyde Park Theatre, 511 W. 43rd St. $19, Thursdays pay-what-you-wishwww.hydeparktheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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September 12, 2011
Review: Joshua Bell and the Austin Symphony Orchestra
In just the last eight months the Austin Symphony Orchestra has hosted as many premiere violinists as an aficionado could hope to see in a lifetime: Itzhak Perlman, Anne Akiko Meyers and this past weekend, Joshua Bell for the orchestra’s season opener at the Long Center.
It was no surprise to his fans that Bell embodies a particularly rich sweetness in his tone. And seeing it live was a reminder that some artists simply translate better on stage than on an album (and many of Bell’s albums are already outstanding).
Just as importantly, conductor Peter Bay and the symphony sounded newly invigorated for Strauss’ “Death and Transfiguration,” which opened the evening. The strings sounded especially unified, with pinpoint dynamics, alongside fine solos from flute, viola and violin.
Bell began with the Tchaikovsky “Meditation,” arranged by Glazunov, and in his trademark loose black shirt, Bell played this mournful theme with crystal clear tone, a tone that was strikingly elastic, delicately working the fingerboard.
Not to be outdone, there was also some fine clarinet counterpoint to accompany Bell’s ghostly high vibrato.
After intermission, Bell revived Glazunov’s violin concerto, debuting in Austin a work he described in conversation last month as an “old war-horse” of his idol Jascha Heifetz, perhaps the most revered player of the last century.
And it is pleasingly old fashioned, but more importantly, it’s a sprawling showstopper brimming with difficult double stops, left-handed pizzicato, charging melodies and ephemeral bird-like sounds. Apart from its difficulties, and a gloriously off-kilter cadenza, it emits a nostalgia for the black and whites of old Hollywood.
One might argue that Bell’s monster concerto should have closed out the evening.
Certainly there are a plethora of considerations that decide concert order, but there is something in our human nature that revels in the anticipation, like a vintage Bordeaux stored in the cellar for special occasions.
In any case, after well-deserved and copious applause for Bell, the symphony ended with Rimsky-Korsakov’s nicely textured “Russian Easter Overture,” with good work from the strings and brass, including a fine trombone solo, though the brass ramped up the volume a little too soon, drowning out the strings before the triumphant finale, at least as heard in the mezzanine.
It was a standout evening for the orchestra and Peter Bay, and, from Joshua Bell, another coup for classical music patrons.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts writer.
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September 6, 2011
Review: Miro Quartet
If the reaction to his fiddle playing is any indication, William Fedkenheuer will have no trouble fitting in to Austin.
After opening their University of Texas concert season with Brahms and Haydn, the Miro Quartet turned to their newly appointed second violinist to lead an encore of the bluegrass standard “Orange Blossom Special.” Nice touch.
Fedkenheuer, as way of introduction, explained that he was once (and still is) a talented fiddler. Then he polished off a tidy version of the bluegrass standard, with the rest of the Miro keeping up quite nicely, complete with a few pitiful “train whistles.”
The crowd clapped along, and gave Fedkenheuer a sweet moment of inauguration. It must have been some relief to the rest of the ensemble as well, after nearly half a year of rotating tryouts in the second chair.
But the serious business of the night was Haydn, Philip Glass and Brahms.
Haydn’s “The Joke,” his “String Quartet in E-flat Major, Op. 33” was pleasant; brisk in the presto, but a little indelicate in the largo as if the quartet were not quite warmed up.
The Glass quartet, “No. 5” eats bow hairs, from the churning cello parts to the little cyclone-like violin riffs. And as audiences discovered when the Miro took it on earlier this summer, the quartet simply has a bead on how to play this work.
The Glass is emotionally exhausting, worth the price of admission on its own.
The Brahms “String Quartet in C Minor, Op. 51” was pleasantly bouncy, and features some sections of unusual dream-like diversions. The third movement fell a little flat, though, with overly subdued dynamics.
The length of the work felt stretched there, for a time, only to crash into the whiplash finale of the Allegro.
Fedkenheuer is an animated player and a charismatic speaker. He sought out eye contact from his colleagues, and brought a lovely tone to the Brahms.
One can never reliably gauge a single player in an ensemble except in case of disaster. But, reliable or not, one evening’s performance indicates that Fedkenheuer’s poise and lyricism are a fine addition to the Miro Quartet.
The Miro’s next concerts in Austin include Oct. 1 as part of the “Austin Pictures” show, Oct. 23-24 with Salon Concert and Nov. 17 at UT’s Butler School of Music. See www.miroquartet.com.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf'
In the beginning, there were stories. And these stories were passed from generation to generation by bards, troubadours, and any number of oral historians, who told their tales without set, without props — with nothing but the words and the sound of their voice to carry the message. And in these recitations, the magic of theater was born.
Under the direction of Zell Miller, UpRise! Productions and Vortex Repertory Company recapture this essential and unembellished magic with their production of Ntozake Shange’s classic choreopoem, “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf,” playing through Saturday at the Vortex.
Very much an ensemble piece, “For Colored Girls” melds dance, poetry, and music to convey evocative fragments of the female experience. Dealing with issues of love and abandonment, rape and abortion, the play is still relevant 35 years after its first performance, striking chords with women of all colors and backgrounds.
Miller’s performers are clearly in sync with each other and the script itself, giving rhythm and nuance to each story. The male director proves how much can be done with no set and no costumes, how powerful a story can be when we’re forced to listen to what’s being said.
Sadé Jones’ robust and expressive dancing provides a lyrical background for many of the women’s monologues. With the bold movements of her body, she keeps the performance in motion, helping us visualize the actions and emotions that the women describe. And when her monologue comes in the second act, she proves that her voice is equally captivating.
The excellent sound design situates “For Colored Girls” in time, demonstrating a keen awareness of the mood and the period of each monologue. It brings cohesion to stories that span decades, smoothly fitting the pieces together.
This can also be said of the production’s internal music (the women’s singing during various moments), which connects their words and movement to the emotional rhythms of the play.
As the Lady in Red, slam poet and actress Ebony Stewart glides into the linguistic cadences of her monologues, mesmerizing us with her smooth and assertive recital.
“For Colored Girls” builds to a stunning conclusion, thanks in no small part to Patrick Anthony’s lighting. It ends with Stewart beginning the mantra that gets at the heart of the play’s message of female empowerment: “I found God in myself/and I loved her/I loved her fiercely.”
“For Colored Girls” continues at 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday. Tickets $10-$30. Thursday 2-for-1 tickets with donation of non-perishable food items. Vortex Theater 2307 Manor Road. www.vortexrep.org.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Aisha White.
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August 24, 2011
Theater review: 'Dos Pocitos'
While apocalyptic disaster tales seem to be overtaking fast cars and martial arts in the box offices these days, it’s not always asteroids or earthquakes that cause civilization to deteriorate. Sometimes, we do it to ourselves.
“Dos Pocitos,” a new play by Raul Garza running through Sept. 3 at Salvage Vanguard, explores the social and political climate of a desolate not-so-distant future. Produced by Teatro Vivo and directed by Estevan Zarate, “Dos Pocitos” is both funny and poignant, raising questions about poverty, immigration, spirituality and hope.
The story takes place in Texaco — no, not a gas station, but a futuristic vision of a North American border no-man’s land. When drug cartels, gang warfare and the federal government take over the area, most of the residents move on, relocating to safer territories. But despite decades of danger and near starvation, a few inhabitants are holding out — refusing to leave the land they call home.
Adam (Mario Ramirez) is an academic, ostensibly returning to study the devastation he escaped. But the trip is half fact-finding, half-road trip when he brings his party-boy cousin, Abel (Mateo Barrera), along to explore what’s left of their hometown.
After an unexpected and unfortunate encounter with one of the locals (Rob Rowland), Adam and Abel eventually stumble their way into the well-armed “convenience” store run by two of the last remaining residents. Marissa Castañón-Hernández is hilarious with her rhinestone encrusted gun vest and no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners approach to retail.
Barrera is entertainingly fratty alongside Ramirez’s academic straight man, and the banter between the two is smooth and energetic.
Julio Carreon Reyes’ set design is austere and dynamic, creating a bleak and industrial world for the play. The sound design, however, does a disservice to the script, resulting in a rather anticlimactic intermission break.
While “Dos Pocitos” is clearly a lively piece of bilingual theater, much of the humor flies over the heads of those not up on their Spanish slang. The same goes for a fair bit of the emotional nuance, which is unfortunate given the poignancy of the play.
An overt comment on the current political climate, “Dos Pocitos” explores our relationships with identity, belonging, hope and spirituality. Though the second act is a bit messy and overtly moralizing, the play has promise. It leaves us thinking about how our decisions today will affect the future ahead.
“Dos Pocitos”
8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through Sept. 3
Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road
$15-$25, Thursdays are pay-what-you-wish
www.salvagevanguard.org
Permalink | | Categories: Cate Blouke, Reviews, Theatre
August 23, 2011
Theater review: 'Dirty Rotten Scoundrels'
Everybody loves a good villain - especially when he’s a bit bumbling and quite hilarious.
Georgetown Palace Theater is venturing south to bring Austin two such rascals in its production of the musical version of “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels,” playing now through Sunday at Stateside at the Paramount (the State Theatre).
A sexy and more contemporary reimagining of the 1988 film, the musical features updates to the language and the humor (with no skimping on jokes about the nether regions). But the potty humor and intermittent cursing add an engaging degree of naughtiness to the somewhat silly show.
“Scoundrels” follows the antics of two con men living on the French Riviera, and the musical sticks fairly close to the film version. Georgetown regular Joe Penrod takes on the role of the older and more sophisticated con artist (Lawrence, played by Michael Caine in the film), while Austin’s musical go-to guy, Andrew Cannata, struts onto stage as the crass American (Freddy, the Steve Martin character).
On Broadway in 2005, “Scoundrels” won a Tony for the actor playing Freddy, and it’s impossible not to fall for Cannata’s version of the young hustler when he belts out his dreams of “Great Big Stuff.”
As the corrupt French policeman, Andre, Scott Shipman greases the wheels with an impressively consistent accent and an entertaining dollop of condescension. Romantically awkward and a bit bumbling, he’s a perfect match for Muriel (Michelle Cheney), a flighty heiress and one of Lawrence’s first victims. Shipman and Cheney make a delightful pair and add a nice dash of real romance to the con game around them.
Sometimes musical updates serve to showcase amazing songs, and sometimes they just restage a story that everyone liked the first time. In this case it’s a mix of the two. Although a couple of the tunes are undeniably catchy, even the quality of the ensemble’s singing can’t rescue some of Jeffrey Lane’s doggerel lyrics. Mostly, “Scoundrels” is an opportunity for a fair bit of humor and some great, big dance numbers, and the ensemble does an excellent job of keeping the energy up and the space dynamic.
“Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” 8 p.m. today-Saturday, 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday Stateside at the Paramount (State Theatre), 719 Congress Ave. $25-$35, www.austintheatre.org
Permalink | | Categories: Cate Blouke, Reviews, Theatre
August 15, 2011
Theater review: 'Down the Drain'
When a person says his life is headed “down the drain,” it usually means that things are not going well.
That would be a severe understatement in the case of Ted, the central character in “Down the Drain,” a new show written and directed by A. John Boulanger and currently premiering at Hyde Park Theatre.
Ted (Martin Burke) is, to put it mildly, at a low point in his life. He sleeps on the bathroom floor of his New York apartment, a bottle of vodka nearby for comfort. He is low on money, facing eviction notices and battling an unnamed disease.
Just when it seems things can’t get any worse, Ted hears the voice of a woman emanating from his toilet. The voice belongs to Ivy (Meredith McCall), a composed, mysterious woman who claims to be in Utah, hearing him through her sink.
Ted and Ivy strike up a friendship. He reveals himself to her, telling her that he’s gay and confessing to odd habits like worrying his way through the alphabet (currently stuck on the letter c and chiggers). Ivy, a good listener, rarely tells much about her own life.
Ted ends up practically moving into the bathroom to keep up his connection with Ivy. Luckily, his bathroom is huge and plush (courtesy of set designer Ia Enstera) and stocked with everything he needs to get by — new clothes, his medications and five extra large bottles of vodka.
“Down the Drain’s” first act is fast, crisp and often very funny. The second act, though, is harder to follow. The show takes dark, increasingly bizarre turns as it winds toward a strange, sudden conclusion. Boulanger described the show as “a bleak comedy,” an accurate description of a show that frequently has a hard edge underneath the laughs.
It’s a pleasure to watch veteran actors Burke and McCall amuse and challenge each other. Burke gives a delightfully manic performance as the unhinged, increasingly confused Ted, and both performers handle Boulanger’s fast, clever, surprising dialogue with precision and heart.
Judd Farris makes a cameo as Ted’s vulgar and cocky brother, and Breanna Stogner gives several scene-stealing performances, most hilariously as Rachel, the perky and persistent telemarketer urging Ted to give up some financial information.
Ultimately, there is a lot to enjoy in this new play, especially the lightning-fast dialogue and the synergy between performers. Though some kinks still need to be worked out, “Down the Drain” intriguingly plays with ideas of reality and delusion, constantly challenging the audience to figure out what’s real and what’s a fantasy.
‘Down The Drain’
8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays through Aug. 28
Hyde Park Theatre, 511 W. 43rd St.
Tickets: $15-$20, www.it-productions.org
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August 10, 2011
Review: 'Hillcountry Underbelly'
When lost and alone and looking for spirituality, there’s no better place to turn than to nature. The earth, the sky, the wind and the trees can be enough to inspire an awakening in even the most downtrodden outcast.
This is at least one of the messages we take away from Paper Chairs’ production of local playwright Elizabeth Doss’ new musical, “Hillcountry Underbelly: A Pilgrimage on the Outskirts,” showing now through Aug. 21 in the year of the Vortex Theater.
“Underbelly” is the odyssey of a band of six Hill Country orphans as they flee their ancestral home. Robert Peirson’s voice resounds with the weight of a prophecy from beyond, as the play opens on the recently deceased patriarch’s harbinger of a catastrophic flood on the horizon.
With softly falling mist in the air, bright stars above, and wind whispering through the surrounding trees, “Underbelly” is more of an atmospheric experience than a traditional play. Half concert, half narrative, it doesn’t provide the stage business of a conventional musical, but Doss gives us some eloquent and allegorical monologues. Each of her characters has his moment in the spotlight, and Doss’ writing illuminates complex familial relationships tied intimately to the land they call home.
Raised away from society, the orphans are more like a pack of wild things - with a rabid performance from Noel Gaulin as the middle-brother, Matthew, and a doe-eyed Kelli Bland as the middle-sister, Elizabeth.
At times slow and melodic, at others bright and spunky, Mark Stewart’s original bluegrass-style music can fall a bit flat if we focus too closely on the lyrics, but the songs often serve to showcase the performers’ voices. As Elly, the eldest sister, Jenn Hartman belts out a heartbreakingly gorgeous solo (sung to a scorpion) in the second act.
Despite opening with ghostly prophecies, “Underbelly” takes a decidedly surreal (or, as Doss calls, it “surregional”) turn in the second act when Ella takes root, and the youngest sibling, Evan (Jacob Trussell), encounters a familial icon.
The dusty outdoor setting of the Vortex Yard, the faded costumes, and washed-out set design result in a somewhat toneless aesthetic — making us yearn for more vivid imagery.
The pace of the show is more staggered than steady, which is an effective reflection of the ragamuffin band’s own journey. Tormented by doubt, the orphans stop and start, bicker about direction and aims, are torn apart by the pilgrimage, but ultimately return to pay homage to the land and their familial roots.
“Hillcountry Underbelly” continues at 8:30 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays through Aug.21. Tickets $15-25. Thursdays Pay-what-you-can. The Vortex yard, 2307 Manor Road. www.vortexrep.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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August 8, 2011
Review: "The Servant of Two Masters"
Too many cooks in the kitchen will spoil the soup, and too many masters will run a servant ragged. Or, as is the case with Penfold Theatre’s “The Servant of Two Masters” showing now through Aug. 21 at the round Rock Amphitheatre, it will result in confusion, hilarity and hijinks.
Adapted from Carlo Goldini’s 1744 piece of commedia dell’arte, “Servant” is a family friendly romp through 18-century Venice. It begins with an engagement, follows the mayhem when a former suitor arrives on the scene, and after much silliness and slapstick, ends with a multitude of marriages.
The happy-go-lucky and insatiably hungry servant, Truffaldino (Ryan Crowder), overzealously engages himself to serve two different men. On top of the immediate complications of dividing his time and space, Truffaldino’s illiteracy and general buffoonery lead to a series of ridiculous miscommunications - exacerbated by the fact that one of his masters isn’t a man at all.
Beatrice (Katie Blacksmith) is posing as her dead brother as she travels Italy searching for her lover, Florindo (Joseph Garlock). Truffaldino is unwittingly servant to both Florindo and Beatrice, making a mess of things and keeping them apart (almost for eternity).
The second annual “Penfold in the Park” free outdoor performance, “Servant” is easy to follow and filled with slapstick silliness. Director Beth Burns’ modern update of this farcical tale makes the language accessible, and with sword fights and an on-site snow cone trailer, the show is sure to please the little ones as much as the adults.
Despite a number of technical difficulties (often the bane of outdoor theater), the cast sallied forth on opening night with enthusiasm and a healthy dose of ridiculousness. As the erudite scholar, Doctor Lombardi, Toby Minor threw some lively temper tantrums, and Andrea Smith’s portrayal of the maidservant, Smeraldina, was animated and enthralling.
Assisted by the offstage musicians, Crowder drives the show with his energetic clowning, proving himself an expert of pratfalls and comedic timing. Garlock’s Florindo is hilarious for his hyper-masculine flamboyance, and Jennifer Davis’ costumes create an engagingly aristocratic aesthetic.
“The Servant of Two Masters” illustrates the problems that arise from social pretensions and the ridiculous lengths to which lovers will go. It reminds us that laughter is immanent in most situations and that it’s generally better to simply be ourselves.
“The Servant of Two Master” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturday through August 21. Admission is free, donations accepted. Round Rock Amphitheater 301 W. Bagdad Ave. Pre-show performances by local artists beginning at 7:30, see website for details. http://www.penfoldtheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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August 3, 2011
Review: "Boys of Summer Improvised Musical"
Sing me a song of infinite beauty, a song filled with joy and laughter. Sing me a song about love and comic books that you compose on the spot with a room full of people watching.
That’s a small taste of the kind of song that the ladies of Girls Girls Girls will treat you to in this summer’s 6th annual “Boys of Summer Improvised Musical,” Friday nights at the Hideout Theater through August 26.
In this unabashedly silly and unavoidably delightful show, each night six girls and one guest boy compose and perform a brand new musical comedy. Emerging out of an audience suggestion for a setting (last week was a comic convention), the cast creates a full-length musical replete with spontaneous song and dance numbers and all the requisite melodrama (literally). Accompanied by the talented Jason Laney on the keyboard, the cast creates characters, storyline, and songs all before our eyes.
It seems that the Girls’ strategy is for someone to simply start a refrain, which then evolves into a song. Sarah Marie Curry’s opening volley on Friday night became the show’s theme song and the catchy tune had us humming our way out the door.
Whether you like musicals or not, this show is a guaranteed good time — perhaps all the more so if you find musicals a bit ridiculous. The show manages to tackle all the typical aspects of a musical — unfulfilled hopes and dreams, unexpected rivalries, love and difficult decisions — made all the more ludicrous when set in a comic book convention (or wherever it will be next week).
Last week’s guest boy, Michael Thomas, added a healthy dose of cowardly manliness to the show, but as the rambunctious Megan Flynn demonstrated, the ladies are entirely prepared to simulate testosterone (which makes it all the more amusing).
While regular long-form improv is challenging enough, singing together on the spot takes the improvisation to a whole new level of synchronicity, exposing the mechanics of true teamwork. Watching the occasionally failed attempts at telepathy (and the even more exciting moments when it succeeds) is what makes the show especially entertaining.
Perfectly synchronizing a spontaneous dance number may have been slightly beyond the casts’ abilities, but the undaunted exuberance with which they keep on trying is what fills the show with tummy-ache inducing hilarity. That, and the slow-motion girl fights, raucously raunchy songs, and unexpected appearances from Ukrainian figure skaters.
“Boys of Summer Improvised Musical” continues at 10 p.m. Friday nights through August 26. $10. The Hideout Theater, 617 Congress Ave. www.gggimprov.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Steve Rogers.
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July 20, 2011
Review: 'Diverge'
Strange to think that the course of our lives can hinge on decisions we make at any given moment. Often, we’re unaware of how a seemingly small choice might change us forever.
The Vestige Group’s new play, “di[verge],” written and directed by Suzie Gidseg and running through July 31 at the Dougherty Arts Center, explores this phenomenon. The play follows two disparate paths that a woman’s life takes after she makes a single decision.
On New Year’s Eve 1999, a woman takes a drunken businessman home with her and then chooses whether or not to invite him upstairs. We watch what happens on the two separate paths her life takes after that decision.
In one scenario, she gets pregnant, marries Murray (Aaron Black), and moves out to New Jersey. Kylie Baker plays this version of the character, and despite Baker’s natural charisma, the script makes it difficult to care about the petulant, adulterous housewife. Bored and un-motherly, she ultimately abandons her family in the hopes of finding whatever it was she left in Manhattan.
Evelyn LaLonde shows us the other option — an aspiring starlet, she trudges to audition after audition and struggles to find fulfillment through one-night stands and botched adventures in on-line dating.
Both actresses occasionally burst into song, providing an opportunity to showcase Evelyn LaLonde’s undeniably lovely voice, though the songs often seem a bit forced or out of place.
Will Hollis Snider does some lovely things with his projections, and Paul Szent-Miklosky’s infrequent appearances as the musician are welcome and refreshing. It’s disconcerting that we don’t see more of Szent-Miklosky given then number of male characters that Aaron Black takes on (including both the woman’s husband and lover — which is initially rather confusing).
While the concept driving the play is interesting (and quite similar to the 1998 Gwyneth Paltrow movie, “Sliding Doors”), the story fails to engage our sympathies. Neither version of the woman is particularly likeable, and her complaints are more banal than tragic. The play ends rather abruptly in the bar where it all began, seemingly arguing that unhappiness results regardless of which path she chooses.
“Diverge” continues 8 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 5 p.m. Sundays through July 31. Dougherty Arts Center, 1110 Barton Springs Road. $15-25, Sundays pay-what-you-can. www.vestigegroup.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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July 17, 2011
Review: Bandini-Chiacchiaretta Duo
In their first concert in the United States, the Bandini-Chiacchiaretta Duo unleashed a virtuosic yet utterly charming torrent of tango music.
The charismatic Italian duo (Giampaolo Bandini on guitar, Cesare Chiacchiaretta on bandoneón) played two sold-out shows Saturday at the Mexican American Cultural Center. The concerts were a co-presentation of the Austin Chamber Music Center and the Austin Classical Guitar Center.
Bandini-Chiacchiaretta expertly captured tango’s complex and contradictory tones and moods — from the velvet melancholic melodies to the nervous and jittery rhythms to the sultry and sensuous songs.
It’s said in tango lore that bandoneonistas must dance with their instrument. And dance Chiacchiaretta did, drawing an extraordinarily varied range of color and emotion from the sonically complicated instrument with plenty of individual flair. Likewise, Bandini brought a bracing finesse to the multifaceted sonorities of the South American music that has shares both European and African roots.
Though the music of nuevo tango originator Ástor Piazzolla framed the concert, the duo interspersed their program with a sampling of compositions old and new.
Fernando Carlos Tavolaro’s “Milonga No. 5.” was heartbreakingly beautiful in classic nuevo tango style while Máximo Diego Pujol’s decidedly modern “Nubes de Buenos Aires” showed the urbane style that many post-Piazzolla tango composers have developed.
And as if to prove their contemporary mastery, the duo brought considerable panache to their highly original version of “El Choclo,” one of tango’s most popular of the classic tango tunes.
Still, the pair’s heartfelt and intelligent interpretations of some of Piazzolla’s best-known compositions — “Zita,” “Oblivion,” and “Libertango,” among others — proved the most thrilling and made for a rousing United States debut for the Bandini-Chiacchiaretta Duo.
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July 11, 2011
Review: Miro Quartet opens Austin Chamber Music Festival
It’s time to look at the Miro Quartet in a new light. The departure of Sandy Yamamoto as second violinist is a natural point of transition for the ensemble, but as they opened the Austin Chamber Music Festival on Friday night at the Bates Recital Hall, the Miro seemed transformed — sort of basking in the glow of music that resonated deep in their bones.
Cellist Joshua Gindele hardly gave his score a glance all night, preferring instead to meet eyes with the rest of the ensemble, urging them on with his shoulders or a tilt of his head.
First violin Daniel Ching was basically on fire. High vibratos were heartbreaking, and delicate harmonics were like glass.
Composer Kevin Puts’ “Credo” was commissioned for the Miro in 2007, when they sought a work that would emphasize something positive about America during that difficult era.
Puts’ music brings a violin shop to life, paints a picture of America’s buildings and bridges, and recalls the beliefs and hopes that formed the backbone of this nation.
Its opening chord was achingly beautiful. As the quartet inhabited a luthier’s shop, it was exactly the sound you’d imagine from roomful of violins, could they speak.
Next was Michael Torke’s “Mojave,” with Tom Burritt on marimba. It didn’t seem to swing as it had earlier this year, but this homage to the desert was still entrancing.
In an evening of superlative performances, Philip Glass’ “String Quartet No. 5” was the masterstroke.
The 1991 work defies Glass’ reputation as a repetitive, and as minimalist, for that matter. With its ever present pulse, it groups little thoughts on top of hypnotically pretty passages, then releases, with heart-stopping chords, pulled out in great unified strokes by the Miro.
Ching, again, played several gorgeous solos. But the Miro as a whole had a determined charisma in their movements, pushing each other forward.
This was the Miro at the top of their form. Tereza Stanislav filled in nicely at second violin, as the Miro continues to search for its new member.
In the meantime, the ensemble revels in this carefree confidence that is breathing new life into their work, and inducing ever more chills in concertgoers.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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June 28, 2011
Review: 'Uncle Vanya'
Though every Chekhov play comes with its own brand of rich emotional complexity, there are a few elements you can always count on: money troubles of the declining aristocracy, and the sorrow of unrequited love.
Breaking String’s production of Checkhov’s “Uncle Vanya,” playing now through Saturday at the Off Center, is less about money than it is a portrait of the stifling and desolate world of country living. It is also a requiem for wasted youth, resources, and affections.
The morose Ivan Petrovitch Voynitsky, “Uncle Vanya” (Robert Matney) is preoccupied with the years he has lost working to support his brother-in-law, Aleksandr Vladimirovich Serebryakov (Harvey Guion), in the professor’s academic pursuits. The doctor, Mikhail Lvovich Astrov (Matt Radford), on the other hand, worries about his posterity and the inevitable erasure of time. Both men, however, find themselves enamored of the unattainable and coquettish Yelena Andreyevna Serebryakov (Liz Fisher), the young wife of Vanya’s brother-in-law.
The dry, sepia aesthetic created by Ia Enstera’s set design and Julia Chinnock Howze’s costumes pulls us in to the stifling and parched world of this stagnating country home.
Radford and Matney are a dynamic pair, playing well off each other, and infusing their respective roles with nostalgia and melancholy. Together they highlight the contrast between the professor’s world of intellectual pursuit and that of agriculture and endurance. Fisher brings strength and emotional depth to the young wife, illustrating well the interminable suffering of ennui.
As is often the case with Chekhov, the servants provide some comic relief. The stoic servant, Maria Timofeevna (Anne Hulsman), takes care to keep a positive outlook, reminding the doctor that even if people won’t remember, God will.
Yet the play’s religious overtones are ambiguous - both the servant and the professor’s homely daughter, Sonya (Emily Everedge) take solace in the promise of a rewarding afterlife. Yet for the daughter doomed to spinsterhood and her aging uncle, this is hardly an uplifting end.
In many of Chekhov’s plays, the drama lies in his characters’ inability to communicate effectively. In “Vanya,” however, the characters can hear each other, the tragedy is that in the end, they simply find they have nothing to say.
“Uncle Vanya” continues 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday. Tickets $15-$25. Off Center, 2211 Hidalgo St. www.breakingstring.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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June 27, 2011
Review: Zach Theatre's 'Hairspray'
Bigger is better — that’s the motto of “Hairspray,” the 2002 Broadway musical comedy based on the 1988 John Waters film of the same name. From opening number “Good Morning, Baltimore” through to the concluding scene’s “You Can’t Stop the Beat,” the audience at Zach Theatre’s production is treated to a visually arresting show with vibrant ‘60s costumes by Susan Branch Towne, a set by Michael Raiford so deliciously colorful you’ll just want to pop the whole thing in your mouth, and engaging acting and singing — not to mention Willa Kaye Warren’s wild wig designs. No hairdo can be too exaggerated, and no amount of hairspray is over the top. Whatever it takes, right? Bring together these production elements in the intimate space of Kleberg Stage and you have a special vantage point on a hilarious musical.
Tracy Turnblad (a bubbly Brooke Shapiro) is a heavyset girl who, despite what her even plumper mother tells her (Brian Coughlin in drag), has aspirations to make it big on local TV dance program “The Corny Collins Show.” Not only do Tracy’s dreams come true, but she also nabs the handsome Link Larkin along the way and is successful in “integrating” the show by bringing on African American dancers, much to the consternation of racist producer Velma Von Tussle (Jill Blackwood), whose white-blonde beehive hairdo couldn’t be piled any higher.
Blackwood’s interpretation of the scheming Velma makes for one of the more memorable characters in the production. Her solo song-dance, “Miss Baltimore Crabs,” in which she reflects on her pageant glory days, is perfectly capped off with crab-claw hand gestures and the wistful look of nostalgia on her face; she lets slip of the Corny Collins dancers, “They’re kids. That’s why we need to steer them in the white direction.” Blackwood’s strong singing voice and full embrace of character made for many laugh out loud moments among audience members.
Coughlin, who filled himself out with extensive padding worn underneath a dress and donned heavy makeup and a wig full of rollers to portray Mrs. Turnblad, was also a source of guffaws. In particular, the duet “(You’re) Timeless to Me” between Mr. and Mrs. Turnblad, which alternated between being sweet, raunchy and downright uproarious, was a highlight.
Director Dave Steakley does a lot with the small space of Kleberg Stage. For example, Tracy keenly stares at her TV set on a raised platform to the right of the stage, while the television image of Corny Collins’ dancers plays out on the central space before us. In “Mama, I’m a Big Girl Now,” three mother-daughter pairs wheel hair salon chairs around the stage, each in their own spotlight. The second act opens with a jail scene that features “bars-on-wheels,” allowing the actors to configure the cell in different layouts. Raiford’s set design for the interior of a plus-size women’s dress shop is a pink wonderland, while his record shop is realistic.
The over-the-top quality of Zach Theatre’s “Hairspray” envelops you, transporting you to the characters’ world. “I hope I didn’t dent your ‘do,” says Link to Tracy at one point. That’s okay — there’s always, always more hairspray.
“Hairspray” continues through Aug. 28 at Zach Theatre,$20-$62. www.zachtheatre.org
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
June 21, 2011
Review: Kathy Dunn Hamrick Dance and NobleMotion Dance
In a smart bit of regional collaboration, Austin’s Kathy Dunn Hamrick Dance Company shared the stage at Austin Ventures Studio Theater last weekend with Houston’s NobleMotion Dance.
The companies made for a comely pair. Both share a vigorously athletic style of modern dance that’s countered by a thoughtful attention to detail.
NobleMotion opened the evening with “With Both Hands” set to live music by ambient noise band My Education. If the choreography in “With” relied a little too much on prolonged moments of stillness on the part of much of the ensemble, the complexity of the next two pieces, “Roundabout” and “Photo Box D,” proved compelling.
Choreographers Andy Noble and Dionne Sparkman Noble craft mini epics filled with drama and individual character smartly pitted against clever, engaging ensemble work from the eight dancers.
Formally elegant, “Photo Box D” featured six large fluorescent light boxes arrayed in a line and from in between which six dancers leapt and tumbled, fugue-like, in and out the darkness. (The lighting design was by Jeremy Choate.) There was an urgency and yet also a melancholy that played out in “Photo,” like a dream in which memories are suddenly, but not completely, recalled.
Hamrick’s “Murmur” filled the second half of the program. A brand new 40-minute piece for nine dancers, “Murmur” was set to an ethereal yet moving original score by Jacob Hamrick.
The choreographer’s signature vigorous moves seemed looser here. Arms were sinuous and made lovely drawn-out shapes. Moments of rapid foot work were immediately countered with slow gestures. Partnering always proved inventive. And slowly an emotional arc, enigmatic as it was, emerged.
“Murmur” proved to be masterly modern dancemaking.
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Review: Blue Lapis Light's 'Devotion'
Gliding out over the waters of Town Lake Sunday at dusk, a passenger on one of two Capital Cruises boats making its way west toward the old Power Plant Intake Building on the shore, I had more time than I’d had in a while to simply bask in my surroundings: Austin’s skyline all lit up, the Frost Tower its signature edifice; the sight of a lone swan floating between the boats; the sounds of a freight train rumbling on the bridge tracks over the lake; the feel of gliding over water.
I was here to experience Blue Lapis Light’s “Devotion,” a 45-minute site-specific aerial dance piece being performed by 15 artists under the direction of artistic and executive director Sally Jacques, with the help of an intricate system of harnesses, trapeze equipment and ropes, on the façade of the Power Plant Building. But ultimately, I was encountering something beyond the purely visual. Just my physical presence, out in the middle of the lake, the wind scrambling my hair and acting as a natural air conditioner in the heat of that night, was enough to make me feel new again.
In the opening moments of the performance, the company’s associate artistic director, Nicole Whiteside, performed a series of balletic movements on the ground just in front of the building while donning a dress that shimmered spectacularly in the floodlights; she then dove head first into the dark water before her. I could almost feel that sensation — the shock of being dry one minute and soaked the next.
Enter four rowers, each transporting a trapeze dancer. One by one, they mounted their trapeze equipment, calmly taking their seats on the thin bar-swings suspended by ropes, before being pulled up, up and away from the water until reaching a stomach-dropping height. In unison and in cannon, the four women bungeed from their swing-perches, all the while flanked by six “wall dancers” who resembled geckos stuck to the façade, their shadows seemingly multiplying the bodies occupying the space.
The music selection — ranging from Dido to Satie to Chopin to German DJ ATB — lent a dreamy atmosphere that could be heard just as easily by those of us on the boats as those audience members seated on the shore opposite the Plant, thanks to sound designer/operator William Meadows. The lighting and video projections (Jason Amato and Scott Hathaway, respectively) enhanced the natural landscape.
While a performance of this kind requires an expert technical crew and months of careful planning, it all seemed to go off effortlessly. While I could feel a small thrill in my stomach each time a dancer plunged from the sky downwards, it was the good kind of thrill — not the bad.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Amitava Sarkar.
June 14, 2011
Review: 'I Love You Because'
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man or woman in possession of a broken heart, must be in want of a rebound. At least, that’s the opening premise of Penfold Theatre’s production of the romantic comedy musical, “I Love You Because,” playing now through June 26 at Hyde Park Theatre.
Based very loosely on Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice,” “I love You Because” explores the ways in which contemporary twenty-somethings are forced to navigate the complicated dating sphere: getting over a break up by rebounding with Mr. Wrong, or winning back an ex-girlfriend by finding someone to take her place.
If you’re fond of Austen’s classic, ignore the names in the play as they’ll only confuse matters. Austin Bennett (Andrew Cannata) is an uptight greeting card writer who walks in on his girlfriend with another man. Austin’s brother, Jeff (Tyler Jones), is a slow-witted slacker who scoffs at love and encourages Austin to win his woman back through calculated indifference.
Will Hollis Photography
Diana Bingley (Amy Downing) and Marcy Fitzwilliams (Haley Smith) are roommates out on the prowl. The cute and quirky Marcy is coming out of yet another failed relationship, and her practical, mathematically-oriented friend explains the rules of rebounding in a delightfully tongue twisting musical number.
The show itself is a cute and contemporary love story, and Penfold’s production is solid on all fronts. David Utley’s set design effectively utilizes the small space and creatively enables crisp transitions between scenes. Glenda Barnes’ costumes capture the characters’ personalities well, and the frequent costume changes create a sense of continuity as we move through time.
An all-around stellar cast makes the musical unflinchingly entertaining. Stephen Jack and Sarah Marie Curry hover charismatically in the background as various New York City characters, adding energy and amusement to the production.
Haley Smith is adorably energetic as the unconventional and spontaneous female lead, pulling her stodgy companion out of his detail-oriented shell. Andrew Cannata shines in yet another lead role, demonstrating his versatility as both actor and singer.
While the story itself is admittedly rather corny, “I Love You Because” is a musical worth seeing for the songs alone. Under Michael McKelvey’s direction, the song and dance numbers pull the audience laughingly along for the ride. While some songs deal flippantly with adult issues, there are also moments of sincere beauty - especially a quartet towards the end where each lover laments the loss of the person that mattered most. “I Love You Because” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 5 p.m. Sundays through June 26. Hyde Park Theatre, 511 West 43rd St. $18-$20. www.penfoldtheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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June 13, 2011
Review: Conspirare's 'Missa Latina'
It was beautiful from its first moments. Soprano Heidi Grant Murphy’s voice spilled out fragile notes of inevitable sadness. Murphy was at the forefront of a stage packed with musicians Sunday night at the Long Center: A battalion of strings, wind, brass, percussion was just the first wave, with 150 voices looming behind them.
“Missa Latina,” a full Latin Mass by Puerto Rican-American composer Roberto Sierra, produced a huge and diverse sound. The choir under Craig Hella Johnson, seamlessly combined Conspirare and the Victoria Bach Festival chorus.
When the Latin rhythm first enters, near the end of the Introitus, it shifts the solemnity, as if we’ve just turned from a church alter to glance out a window into the streets of San Juan. The music remains ponderous and weighted, but in a way that’s peculiar to Latin America.
As it turns out, “Missa Latina” follows the traditional churchgoing variety quite closely. It’s a solemn, spiritual work and, as Sierra recently explained, the Latin rhythms - shakers, arcing trumpet riffs - do not lighten the religious content, but create personal “moments of introspection.”
And it’s not as if Murphy is about to leap out and sing a number from “West Side Story.” Several movements end with a devastating bass drum, as if the gates of Hell just closed behind you.
And in a way, they have. The Credo is a whirlpool of doubt that follows unbridled joy: the orchestra breaking into full-out San Juan ballroom style Gloria, with its infectious “Hosannas” making heads sway in the choir.
Then the Credo, almost painfully drawn out, emanating doubt from all its pores as the sopranos gently, slowly sing like angels.
Johnson expertly managed his army of vocalists and musicians, and moved vibrantly on the podium. An early tempo in the shakers was out of sync with the baton, but was soon overcome. And crisp, moving work by brass and oboe filled the hall.
Baritone Daniel Teadt, gamely filling in for Nathanial Webster, was unfortunately outmatched aside the angelic Murphy. Where Murphy’s voice projected with ease, Teadt’s felt tight. It had trouble resonating, especially in the lower register.
“Missa Latina” is a journey, and not an easy one for the listeners. But, Dios mio, it is rewarding.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'The Book of Grace'
“Don’t Fence Me In” is a classic cowboy song about freedom. In this song, a fence is something that can trap a person and prevent them from roaming free. But a fence can also be built as protection, as a way to keep people out.
Both kinds of fences are at play in “The Book of Grace,” the newest play from Pulitzer-prize winning playwright Suzan-Lori Parks now receiving its Texas premiere at Zach Theatre.
“The Book of Grace” premiered last year at New York’s Public Theater, under the direction of James Macdonald, but Zach Theatre’s version is directed by Parks herself. Parks, whose work is often celebrated for its lively and rhythmic use of language, tweaked the script a bit and reworked the play for this new production.
The opening fugue, in which the three main characters announce who they are, vibrates with energy. Vet (Eugene Lee) is the gruff and bombastic father, a border patrol agent obsessed with security. Vet’s wife Grace (Nadine Mozon) is sunny and hopeful, the one who tries to see the good in life. And Buddy (Shaun Patrick Tubbs) is Vet’s angry and troubled son who hasn’t forgiven his father for “unspeakable” acts in the past.
“The Book of Grace” is set inside the family’s home in West Texas. Projected images of a border fence surround the audience, trapping us in this location, to witness this family’s unraveling drama. Buddy returns home after a long absence and the animosity between himself and his father is palpable, dangerous. In one scene, Vet frisks him to make sure he’s not armed. Grace, Buddy’s stepmother, tries to be the peacemaker.
As the play unfolds, each character has a story they want to tell a larger audience. Vet practices a speech he’ll be giving to the border patrol community as he accepts an award for a major immigrant bust. Grace continues to add to her secret “Book of Grace,” a collection of small moments that provide “evidence of good things.” And Buddy changes his name to “Snake” and starts composing his own manifesto that he hopes to post on the Web.
The actors tackle the drama whole-heartedly. Lee’s Vet is a terrifying yet recognizable human being. Lee, with his deeply resonant voice, gives a powerful performance. Mozon plays Grace as full of exuberant energy yet hauntingly vulnerable underneath. And Tubbs gives a focused, tightly wound performance of a son on the verge of explosion.
Like many of Parks’ plays, this one is steeped in allegory and contains familial drama, violence, and allusions to American history. The play’s final chapter is a harrowing one that hits the audience like a punch to the gut.
“The Book of Grace” itself crosses borders. It moves back and forth between the gritty realism of American domestic drama and a more presentational style evident in the way the characters directly address the audience, the way Grace announces the cleverly named titles of each chapter, and the overt symbolism of borders and fences.
It’s a show that isn’t easy on the audience. You have to pay attention, listen and be willing to follow the characters to some dark places. The reward is a compelling, superbly acted, thought-provoking play and a chance to experience Park’s newest contribution to the contemporary theatre.
“Book of Grace” continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through July 10. Zach Theatre’s Whisenhunt Stage, 1510 Toomey Road. Tickets $20-34. www.zachtheatre.org
Photo: Nadine Mozon and Shaun Patrick Tubbs. Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
May 24, 2011
Review: 'Lear'
All too often, attempts to update Shakespeare can end up unfortunately misguided or flagrantly inappropriate, but director Rudy Ramirez’s vision of a matriarchal corporate empire works surprisingly well in Vortex Repertory Company’s production of “Lear,” running now through June 18.
Swapping a queen for a king and a sister for a son, Ramirez foregrounds gender roles without letting them consume the production. Queen Lear (Jennifer Underwood) retires under the media spotlight, leaving an empire to her two “loving” daughters, and Shannon Grounds gives us a surprisingly emotive performance as the fool. Amelia Turner gives an animated and evocative performance as Gloucester’s legitimate daughter (Edda), though in terms of the plot, this gender reversal is less directly affective.
Ramirez’s update sticks fairly closely to the original text, and though it takes liberty with the verse patterns, his production is thoroughly comprehensible Shakespeare. Not only do the actors clearly know what they’re saying, but the audience does too.
The language of the play lends itself well to the re-gendering and adds some interesting dynamics to the familial relationships. Coming from a mother to her daughter, Lear’s curse of Goneril’s womb resounds with particularly poignant vitriol.
Andrea Smith (Goneril) and Jennifer Coy (Regan) bring distinct personalities to the vicious elder sisters - Smith’s sincere and condescending Goneril is paired extremely well with Coy’s catty and ladder-climbing Regan. With powerful performances from all the Lear women, we recognize the faults of hubris on both sides of the generational divide and our sympathies shift as the play progresses.
A solid first act is followed by a short and chaotic second one, but the play regains its momentum in the third.
The production pulls us into a technologically inundated society, and many of the technological and media-related flourishes work well. Kent (Julianna Elizabeth Wright) is saddled with a house-arrest anklet, and the simpering Oswald (Trey Deason) is perpetually checking his Blackberry.
Placing much of the exposition in the mouths of newscasters is extremely effective at times, but often the production’s commentary on contemporary media detracts from the content of the play. Lear’s raging in a storm of paparazzi flash bulbs ultimately distracts us from the emotional impact of her descent into madness.
Similarly, Jason Amato’s lighting design does the production and the actors a disservice, inundating the stage with unnecessary heat and blinding side spotlights.
Overall, however, Vortex Repertory gives us both a solid performance of a classic play and a new take on a timeless tale.
‘Lear’ continues at 8 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays through June 18. Tickets $10-$30. www.vortexrep.org.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
May 23, 2011
Review: Aztlan Dance's 'The Enchilda Western'
The tagline for Aztlan Dance Company’s “The Enchilada Western” at the Santa Cruz Center for Culture last weekend — “Borders are meant to be crossed” — can describe the choreographic and music choices for the production just as easily as it refers to its thematic elements. Divided into four segments performed by 10 dancers, the evening depicted macho desperados and attitude-laden señoritas fighting for survival at la frontera, but not without the help of a special vision-inducing agave tonic and the regular shouting of gritos — words of the encouragement — to fellow strugglers.
Artistic director Roé n Salinas’ choreography really does take a big bite out of the whole enchilada; traces of everything from classical forms and folk dances to contemporary styles could be recognized. The first half of the evening, in which the women mostly donned black pant-and-vest outfits and high-heeled boots, was especially laden with modern dance and jazz repertoire.
Leg extensions (and swift kicks, in the feistier moments) and classic modern floor rolls were intermingled with the stomping footwork of Mexican folkló orico. Toreador stances, with hips thrust forward, added a Spanish flair, especially in conjunction with the music of Chambao, a flamenco-electronic group known for their “flamenco chill” albums. In the sweeter sections, the borderland ladies danced barefoot wearing white ruffled dresses, twirling pink and orange serapes through the air, to mariachi music with an eastern influence.
While it’s clear Aztlan Dance Company doesn’t want to be labeled as a single-genre troupe, some of the more inspiring moments came when the choreography directed the dancers to express one particular style. The final portion of the show featured traditional Mexican folklorico that had audiences shouting out their own gritos in support. Three men wielded fire engine red handkerchiefs while creating booming rhythms with their feet; the twirling of the women’s skirts was like an undulating force of immeasurable power. Here, the evening reached a crescendo, built upon the attitude, pride and will to survive present in earlier sections.
The performers’ passion was evident through their vivid facial expressions, their dance style as one-of-a-kind as the music to which they moved: Los Lobos, Mariachi El Bronx, Macaco, Bomba Estereo — all bands for which one-word descriptions of the music are hardly sufficient. To see an Aztlan performance, though at times dizzying, is to see something unique.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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May 16, 2011
Review: Ensemble VIII's 'Renaissance Splendour'
With just eight singers, including artistic director James Morrow — singing bass and conducting from within — Ensemble VIII slid into a niche few knew existed.
It was a little surprising to learn that Austin would launch another choral ensemble with national pedigree, but the group’s first concert eloquently made clear its reasons for being.
On Friday at the beautiful and bright chapel of St. Louis Catholic Church, the voices filled the airy rafters with clear harmony and a pleasing reverberation. With the men looking quite smart all in black, the group formed half a circle near the atrium and cycled through a Ockeghem’s “Salve Regina,” with a tight pocket of harmony.
It was impossible to tell that these voices had scarcely a week of rehearsals to blend.
The rolling cadences of Ockeghem showcased the clarity of these singers. The tone was very even, and the sound felt well balanced as the parts intermingled, though in a later piece a counter tenor felt too dominant in the mix.
Ensemble VIII’s inaugural concert featured the music of Ockeghem, Josquin and Englishman John Sheppard. This is sacred music, but it is also very stylish, very complex music. At times the blend of voices felt sublime; gorgeously in tune and expressive.
For “Stabat Mater” by Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, Ensemble VIII split in half, facing off down the center of the hall, fifteen feet apart. This was a dramatic staging that expanded the stereo effect of the doubled voices.
Unfortunately, most chairs in the chapel were awkwardly positioned for the night’s concert, perpendicular to the chorus. To see the ensemble, you had to twist about 45 degrees, something even yoga instructors would not advise.
The Ensemble distinguishes itself with a capella arrangements that create a focused, minimalist concert. Unlike the Texas Early Music Project it has no period instruments, and unlike Conspirare, Ensemble VIII does not play in the realm of thunderous chorales, or venture past the Baroque era.
Pulling in Renaissance specialist-singers from across the United States, Morrow hopes the smaller group will become a nimble touring ensemble. Its fall season includes dates in Houston, Dallas and San Antonio. Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
May 11, 2011
Review: 'The Dudleys'
t’s hard to play a game when the objectives aren’t clear, when you don’t know how to win, how to score points, or even how to survive. That seems to be the message of Tutto Theatre’s production of “The Dudleys!,” a multimedia adventure into the world of early video games, showing now through May 22 at the Blue Theatre.
An exploration of grief, memory, and the mourning process, “The Dudleys!” traces the impact that a father’s death has on his family. Leaving a wife, three semi-grown children, and a lot of unanswered questions behind, Tom (Robert Deike) dies of cancer just before the story begins. But since the play’s narrative isn’t linear, and since it’s set against a video game motif, we meet Tom both alive and undead.
Though ostensibly dealing with weightier subject matter, the true tragedy of “The Dudleys!” is its failure to live up to its own potential.
The conceit of the play is that “The Dudleys!” is a malfunctioning original Nintendo game. As such, the actors perform in front of a giant rear-projection screen that a whole team of video designers has brought to life. The performance is accompanied by a soundtrack of synthesized music from old game systems, composed and performed live by the playwright himself (Leegrid Stevens).
This backdrop provides Melinda Rebman and Zenobia Taylor an opportunity for some truly delightful choreography. Additionally, Benjamin Taylor Ridgway’s costumes are playfully pixellated, and the entire aesthetic is fantastically reminiscent of the days before even dial-up internet.
However, even the charming staging and high-energy acting can’t salvage the incoherent narrative, inconsistent world of the play, and borderline (if not outright) offensive representations of religion that “The Dudleys!” espouses.
No matter how bizarre, the world of a video game has rules, just like a play. In order for a player to succeed or an audience to comprehend, there have to be indicators, clues, paths to follow. “The Dudleys!” jumps around in time without any indication of how or why we got there, leaving a distracting trail of loose ends flapping in the wind.
Telling the audience that the only “rules of the game” are that you only have one life and not to rely on time might be true for the game of life in the real world, but in a play, we need a bit more to work with, and director Gary Jaffe simply doesn’t deliver.
‘The Dudleys’ continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturday, 7 p.m. Sundays through May 22 www.tuttotheatre.org.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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May 9, 2011
Review: Ballet Austin's 'The Magic Flute'
A shadow puppet serpent lurches forward, its body rapidly enlarging until it fills the lit-from-behind screen onstage. Prince Tamino, whose shadow form has been courageously battling the monster, collapses with exhaustion. Next: Three ballerinas to the rescue, their silhouettes betraying tutus and pointe shoes. It is only after destroying the serpent, its body shrinking down to nothing, that the three dancers enter the stage proper, parading in striking black tutus with silver-streaked bodices, their hair fantastically frizzed and piled atop their heads.
Welcome to Ballet Austin artistic director Stephen Mills’ version of Mozart’s beloved opera, “The Magic Flute.” To create this contemporary ballet, the opera’s score was artfully whittled down from its full four hours to a danceable one and a half by University of Texas professor and composer Donald Grantham.
From the playful overture to the prince-and-princess-are-reunited happy ending, the Austin Symphony Orchestra beautifully accompanied the visual feast onstage at the Long Center, composed of Mills’ dance choreography, costume designer Susan Branch-Towne’s delectable outfits and San Francisco-based ShadowLight Productions’ creative shadow puppetry.
In transforming the opera into a ballet, the shadow puppetry effectively filled in what would have been plotline gaps in the absence of the voice. After his tussle with the serpent, Tamino (Frank Shott) is presented with a heart-shaped locket containing the portrait of the lovely Pamina (Ashley Lynn Gilfix), the kidnapped daughter of the imperial Queen of the Night (Aara Krumpe). Pamina’s profile, encircled by the locket shape, appears on the shadow screen. Upon falling instantly and deeply in love with the maiden’s image, Tamino promises to rescue her from her captors, though he doesn’t attempt the mission without his magic flute — capable of changing the hearts of men — and his trusty sidekick.
Enter bird catcher Papageno, danced by the comical Christopher Swaim. His entourage, six bird-women, don richly colored tutus complete with poofed-up ducktails and matching feathered headpieces. The birds’ movements, perfectly synchronized, mimic the harried motions of a flighty flock. Papageno’s love interest, danced by the appropriately frenetic Beth Terwilleger, wears a rainbowed bushy tutu and matching feathered leg warmers. Swaim and Terwilleger make a lively pair in performing a laugh out loud interpretation of mating rituals.
Branch-Towne’s costume designs elicited squeals of delight repeatedly from the audience, including those developed for a parade of animals that traipse across the stage. The crown of one dancer’s head bore the elongated neck and face of a giraffe; another dancer embodied a kangaroo carrying its baby in the front pocket of an apron.
Mills’ choreography was consistently danced confidently. Gilfix, in a pink chiffon outfit, floated about the stage dreamily as the evening’s leading lady; Krumpe illustrated her technical skill as the queen when she hopped on her tippy toes in black pointe shoes; Shott beat his legs together mid-air to the tune of his flute.
Ballet Austin’s “The Magic Flute” is a vividly colorful spectacle you don’t want to end. But the theater experience, we realize, is just as ephemeral as a serpent’s shadow, just as fleeting as the trills of a flute. That’s why we keep going back.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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April 30, 2011
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra with Itzhak Perlman
On a night of pomp and circumstance, the 100th anniversary gala of the Austin Symphony Orchestra was rippling with energy.
A scintillating performance by (still) the world’s most eminent violinist, Itzhak Perlman, capped off one hundred years of music with a moment that will be remembered as one of the symphony’s best.
There was a palpable energy in the room — the buzz that comes from a concert hall packed full to the rafters.
Conductor Peter Bay and the symphony began with two works that appeared on the inaugural program in 1911. A subdued Mozart “Symphony No. 28” began after the national anthem and a preview of the 2012 season (with yet more big names).
Luigini’s “Ballet Egyptien” had a gorgeously deep, full sound. Strong bass beats and a sweet oboe solo painted a plethora of colors.
When Perlman navigated toward his chair at center stage after intermission, it was to fierce applause.
Bay carried Perlman’s violin on stage, while Perlman held the baton. Bay, holding onto the violin to let the applause last, received a playful scowl from Perlman, which got the crowd laughing.
Perlman, though, in a flowing black shirt, came to play. Max Bruch’s “Violin Concerto No. 1” just seems to suit Perlman, flaunting every one of his strengths (there are no weaknesses, if you were wondering).
Perlman defied already high expectations.
Tone. Honey-vibrato. Piercingly beautiful high notes, blazing through prickly runs. All the while, Perlman is expressive and relaxed. He looks like you’d imagine the Greek Poet Homer, sitting to recite “The Iliad.”
In this already beautiful work, Perlman seemed to pull out even more moments of sweetness. His bow (with such a high bow-hold!) slices like a cleaver through warm butter.
His performance drew the most natural standing ovation of the season, deservedly so.
If the Mozart and Luigini found the symphony reluctant to milk the soap-opera dynamics those pieces seem to demand in this hall, Respighi’s “Pines of Rome” took on the Bruch’s spark.
The trumpets sang out, and the piece had a perfect, quick gallop. The dynamics here felt alive, helped by pulsing woodwinds, a stunning clarinet solo, and a pleasantly triumphant finale.
The cupcakes, champagne and lore around this centennial gala gave this celebration a singular vivacity, yet it’s music like this that will last another hundred years.
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April 26, 2011
Review: "I've Never Been So Happy"
Half-way through “I’ve Never Been So Happy,” the endlessly charming off-beat musical by the Rude Mechs now getting its debut at the Off Center, the audience spends intermission taking a spin through a Western-themed carnival, its whacky attractions all handmade with found material.
The tongue-in-cheek attractions — there’s a “Redneck Drive-In” and a “Land Grab General Store” — make for a participatory coda of sorts to the imaginative, high-spirited production that’s flutters freely between meta-theater and prankish fun without a hint of irony, mimicking in look and feel the handmade and heartfelt tenor of the outside carnival.
The Rudes have been unfolding “I’ve Never Been So Happy” for three years, bringing it to audiences in several exuberant in-progress productions.
Now in its final form, the hijinks haven’t stopped, thankfully. Nor has the sweetness. Whatever else it’s about (the myth of the American West, gender roles, love), “I’ve Never Been So Happy” finds a way to lasso up all the good things about the theater and how silly and fun and sincere it can be when it’s done wisely.
With a book and lyrics by Kirk Lynn and music and lyrics by Peter Stopschinski, the fetching production is co-directed by Thomas Graves and Lana Lesley. But every inch of the show is celebration of the Rudes’ well-honed collaborative process. (The show was one of only seven across the nation to receive a grant from the NEA’s Distinguished New Play Development Project.)
It’s a totally seamless blend — and crazy mash-up — of Dayna Hanson’s playful non-stop choreography (five company members actually play the role of back-up dancers), Miwa Matreyk’s beguiling video-work (part simple animation, part light show) along with a slew of electric character performances (as a pair of sibling dachsunds, Jenny Larson and Paul Soileau bring pitch-perfect oddness to their roles).
Stopschinski’s score— played by a string and guitar ensemble with the composer at the keyboards and pre-recorded samples — slides gracefully from sweet pure country songs to crazy pop references (disco, heavy metal) to elegiac almost-arias.
Yes, there’s a plot in there, too. The young Annabellee (an animated Meg Sullivan) wants desperately out of her father’s country and western show while nearby in the big American West, Jeremy (a kinetic E. Jason Liebrecht) has just been kicked out of the all-female commune where his mother has raised him. The two are star-crossed lovers before they’ve even met. And the pair must enlist the pair of pet dachsunds as well as a line-up of eccentrics (Kerri Atwood sings impressively as the Sherif as does Cami Alys as Jeremy’s mother) to reach their happily ever after.
Merging a lovely modern lyrical poetry with slapstick colloquialism, Lynn’s lyrics (libretto?) fills in the imaginative underpinnings to the story. When it comes right down it, what is free and wild? What if everything is connected to everything after all?
In its goofy guilelessness, “I’ve Never Been So Happy” is arguably the most mature work the Rudes’ have produced to date. “Let’s find a way to hang out forever,” the entire cast sings at the end. Yes, let’s — let’s hang out and go see the Rudes
“I’ve Never Been So Happy” continues through May 8. www.rudemechs.com
Photos by Bret Brookshire.
April 21, 2011
Review: ASO's Young Composer concert
On Wednesday night, the Austin Symphony Orchestra and Peter Bay made space on the podium to test out work from the youngest composers in Texas. This was a first in the state, we’re told, for a symphony to debut works written by Texans 18 and under. Out of 25 submissions, the ASO played 12 short pieces.
Disregarding the skills required to write for an entire orchestra, an accomplishment in itself, just listening as the musical vision of these young men came to life with the power of the full orchestra, was impressive.
All of the works had enough interplay between the sections of the orchestra to keep you intrigued. Sometimes the results were unusual — like using the string principals for extended solos — and sometimes the composers forgot to enroll the orchestra at its full capacity, leaving some dead patches. But a few of the them had an advanced understanding of how to put the whole group of players in service of their vision.
One of those was Wyatt Hahn, whose clever “Giovane Ballerina’s Suite,” was a symphony in seven minutes, with three tiny, hugely effective movements. Hahn, amazingly, a freshman at Cedar Park High School added color to a succinct waltz, with chimes. Then wood blocks and snare enforced the theme as it emerged, and faded, with the evening’s best use of dynamics.
Some pieces resembled video game soundtracks, or film scores a la Danny Elfman, and some could back up a PBS documentary, tonight. Quite a starting point for kids who still take P.E.
It was a treat to see so many young faces in the crowd, cheering after each piece. And this could become a “thing.”
Like the University Interscholastic League’s championships, this competition could improve and affect band and string programs in high schools across Texas by giving kids, composing on a computer in their bedrooms, something to aspire to.
As it was, the composers were all male, mostly white and from some of the most elite public schools in the state, something that says more about schools than about the competition itself.
Let’s hope that next year we see the entire face of Texas, including some young women.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
April 14, 2011
Review: Austin Lyric Opera's 'Flight'
Charming and thoroughly modern, Jonathan Dove’s opera “Flight” made a grace landing last weekend at the Long Center in its Austin Lyric Opera production.
And it was easy to grasp why Dove’s opera is a veritable hit on the contemporary opera landscape. (It’s been performed nearly 100 times.) With and appealing score, “Flight” tells the strange but engaging story of a group of travelers stuck in an airport for a night, an experience made all the more surreal by the presence of an undocumented refugee trapped in a kind of stateless suspension.
Dove’s atmospheric music — which must convey everything from a plane landing to the birth of a baby — smartly entwines a panoply of styles from a pleasantly pure brand of minimalism to stylish contemporary tonalities. And conductor Richard Buckley deftly handled it.
April de Angelis’s cleverly rhymed libretto is part modern poem, part snappily timed comedy patter.
But the real treat came from the solid singing throughout the chorus-less cast. Indeed some of the best musical moments were the ensemble singing.
As the the refugee, Nicholas Zammit’s sparking countertenot added and otherworldliness to the already ethereal role. And as the stiff and cool Controller who stays above (literally) the fray of the travelers’ farcical goings-on, soprano Nili Riemer elicited gasps of admiration from the audience Saturday when she effortlessly leapt to a high F in her first solo.
A comedic but thoughtful operatic portrait of life’s transitions, this “Flight” soars.
“Flight” contineus 7:30 p.m. Friday, 3 p.m. Sunday at the Long Center. www.austinlyricopera.org.
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Review: 'Carousel'
They say that love is blind, but Rodgers and Hammerstein’s 1945 classic, “Carousel,” shows us that love just might be deaf and dumb as well.
It’s an unconventional musical to say the least: the lovers seem ill-suited, the protagonist is a jerk, and the ending isn’t quite happy but isn’t really sad. Yet St. Edward’s production, running now through April 17th, is a lively and enjoyable rendition of this piece of theatrical history.
Set on the New England coast in the late 1800s, the play follows the lives of Julie Jordan (Elizabeth Newchurch) and the carousel barker, Billy Bigelow (Joshua Denning). From the outset, Bigelow is aggressively sexual and not exactly romantic. His is a love song of hypotheticals (“If I Loved You”), and the question looming in the background is always what Julie sees in him - especially after he hits her.
Despite the play’s ambiguous approach to domestic abuse, the cast is energetic and sincere. Joshua Denning is commanding in his role as the troubled barker, and Elizabeth Newchurch is expressive and sympathetic.
The Bigelows’ problems are particularly stark in contrast to the prim and proper couple, Carrie Pipperidge and Enoch Snow (Merett Hanes and Kel Sanders). Hanes exhibits the sweet exuberance of young love and Sanders is charmingly stodgy as the ambitious fisherman.
Though Michael McKelvey’s direction of the initial love scene between Julie and Billy is strangely static, McKelvey brings out the depth in even the most unsympathetic characters, and the play otherwise moves quickly.
Danny Herman and Rocker Verastique’s choreography enliven the intimate space, with rough and tumble fight sequences and a truly lovely ballet between Louise (Hannah Marie Fonder) and the carnival boy (Kyle Housworth).
Megan Reilly’s lighting nicely sets the tone for most scenes, using a lot of saturated light for the strange New England world of the play.
With mustaches and muttonchops abounding, Tara Cooper’s make-up and hair design are to be commended and thoroughly enjoyed.
The production is visually delightful and lovely to hear, even if the play itself leaves us a bit puzzled.
‘Carousel’ continues through April 17 at Mary Moody Northen Theatre, St. Edward’s Univ.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
April 11, 2011
Review: Tapestry Dance Company's "Are You Listening to Me?'
In the hushed theater, this quotation seemed appropriate: “It takes silence to create rhythm.” So said Tapestry Dance Company’s executive artistic director Acia Gray Friday evening during the opening number of the local tap company’s show, “Are You Listening to Me?” Gray, along with six of her company’s dancers and guest theater artist Zell Miller III, then proceeded to treat audiences to a wonderful array of sounds in the Rollins Theatre at the Long Center. The loud, the quiet, the weird, the routine — nothing was off limits for this seasoned troupe of tappers.
Tapestry Dance Company, now in its 21st season, explored the inter-rhythms between the shuffle-shuffle of the feet and the modulations of the voice. In the first piece, “The Voices in Your Head,” the dancers lined up across the stage and spoke rapidly all at once, until they were silenced by some inexplicable force, though still left to gesture wildly with their arms, their mouths simultaneously moving like a fish’s underwater. One by one, Gray touched them, giving them voice, before relinquishing their power.
The voice often functioned as a source of comedy. In “Find the Quiet,” Brenna Kuhn was the object of jibber jabber as each of her fellow dancers approached her to utter nonsensical sounds. Tanya Rivard laughed herself into hysterical crying; Matt Shields voiced what can best be described as a whiny Italian cadence; and Thomas Wadelton’s jig/jibberish combination induced the audience to laughter.
At other times, words were powerful. “The opposite of courage is not cowardice. The opposite of courage is conformity,” pronounced Miller. The dichotomy between courage and conformity was very much present throughout the evening. It was highlighted in “The Journey,” in which the group of six — perfectly synchronized — moved forwards and backwards in profile. One by one, they broke from the herd to forge their own path in this world of daily routines, before rejoining the group. The music, by Jani Sieber, sounded like it could have come off the “American Beauty” soundtrack (though it didn’t) — whimsical, with a touch of melancholy.
There’s no denying the fact that Tapestry’s dancers are talented. In many ways, the most compelling bits of the evening were when they were all-out dancing, pure and simple. As an audience member, it was almost as though I could feel every fiber of my being getting sucked into the vortex of their energy. In one solo, Wadelton performed quick, tiny movements, at times standing up on his tippy toes like an awkward ballerina. Lost in his own world, we came to understand: Life isn’t about perfection. It’s about being you, about being “free,” as Wadelton himself said.
In another solo, Shields tapped in a mini sandbox at the back of the stage, the friction between his shoes and the sand producing a sound like a needle scratch on a record. Although his nimble movements were limited to a small area, he hardly looked constrained.
Conformity or courage? Tapestry chose the latter.
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April 8, 2011
Review: 'August: Osage County
Though dysfunctional families have been fodder for playwrights since the dawn of theater, as Oedipus and Medea demonstrate, it’s the stories of extreme maladjustment that keep us on the edge of our seats.
In his viciously witty tragedy, “August: Osage County,” playing now through May 22 at Zach Theatre, playwright Tracy Letts tracks the decline of the American family touching on practically every imaginable form of dysfunction: emotional abuse, alcoholism and drug addiction, pedophilia, incest, adultery. The only thing missing is incarceration.
After its premier in Chicago in 2007, the hugely popular play transferred to Broadway and ran for nearly 700 performances. Since then, it’s been making the rounds nationwide, and there are plans for a feature film with Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts as the female leads.
It’s been compared to such epic familial meltdowns as Eugene O’Neill’s “Long Day’s Journey Into Night,” and the play proves that there’s still room for three-hour sagas on the 21st-century stage. However, Letts makes the case for his chronicle of the Weston family’s self-destruction with a gripping combination of humor and horror.
Unfortunately, Zach’s marketing choices for their production set up the wrong frame for this deeply tragic portrait of a family’s implosion. Calling the play a “scathingly hilarious tragicomedy” creates a misplaced emphasis on the humor. While there are certainly moments of humor throughout the play, when the audience treats it more like Neil Simon than a tragedy, the results are disappointing. The laughter in “August: Osage County” should be nervous instead of knee-slapping, appalled instead of approving.
The sitcom-style first act sets a precedent that’s difficult to shake off under Dave Steakley’s direction. Though early on the cast anticipates the laughs and plays them up, later on, they can’t seem to convey the shift to seriousness. An incredibly powerful scene at the end was ruined by theatergoers more enthralled by smashing ceramics than the emotional devastation laid bare before them. When we should have left in tears, most people finished the evening with a feeling of good cheer, talking of how funny the play was instead of how sad.
The production is full of inconsistencies and contrasts, and on the whole, the cast struggles with rapid transitions between moments of humor and emotional meltdowns.
As the pill-popping matriarch, Violet, Lana Dieterich doesn’t muster sufficient bile for most of the performance. Her responses verge on hammy at times, but her final breakdown is filled with wrenching despair.
Lauren Lane is stunningly powerful as the “favorite” daughter, Barbara, and the skilled actress effectively tackles the shifts between sarcasm and sorrow.
In this family without filters, it’s the quiet ones you want to watch. Jonathan Shultz’s performance as Little Charles stands out for its simplicity and sweet sincerity. Similarly, as Ivy, the overlooked and underloved sister, Irene White’s final outburst leaves us in stunned silence.
In “August: Osage County,” there are certainly moments of hilarity, but they shouldn’t overshadow the heart and soul of the production — that “dissipation is much worse than cataclysm.”
‘August: Osage County’ continues through 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through May 22. Zach Theatre. Tickets: $32-$49. www.zachtheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
April 4, 2011
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra with Nexus
Toronto’s Nexus percussion ensemble brought some mysticism to the Austin Symphony’s performance on Friday night. With two sets of chimes hanging from the upper balcony, Nexus seemed to expand the size of the concert hall to perform Toru Takemitsu’s “From Me Flows What You Call Time,” a meditative work that originally celebrated the 100th anniversary of Carnegie Hall.
Those chimes were strung up to multicolored ribbons that draped over the audience, to two posts on the stage. The ribbons alter the setting, but the sheer arsenal of bells, gongs, woodblocks and drums made the stage look like some medieval Asian marketplace.
The five percussionists enveloped the orchestra, with a set of steel drums dead center. The piece takes a cosmic approach to honor a century of music and performance; it could be the soundtrack of the beginning of the world — often silent, with patterns of chimes, creeks and vibrations that engender awe. If a symphony is an epic poem, this is Takemitsu’s 35 minute haiku.
The orchestra, under conductor Peter Bay, was largely in the background, with eerie, delicate colors. The use of steel drums as a strange centerpiece was striking, but the most stunning moments came from the clanging of a gigantic nippled gong, whose long wavelength oscillated in thick waves.
The pulling of the ribbons to activate the balcony chimes recalled a call to worship, a sign of the music’s power as it reached through the audience and the entire hall.
It was a sonic feast.
The second half marked a shift in moods, with Ravel’s “Menuet Antique” and his orchestration of Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition.”
The “Menuet,” a sprightly little work, found Bay and company in a wonderful, brisk tempo. But this was just a little, energetic appetizer.
The main course was Mussorgsky’s symphony standard, as the composer walks us through a literal exhibition — one that moved the composer to give its paintings a soundtrack.
The ASO tackled the work with gusto, with excellent string work, and notably sharp percussion. Saxophone and trumpet solos flowed easily, as did some color from the winds, but the work’s strenuous demands were apparent on a few occasions, as the wind and brass both had trouble articulating some faster, exposed runs, and one solo suffered from tuning challenges.
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March 31, 2011
Review: 'West Side Story'
“West Side Story” was a sensation when it originally appeared on Broadway in 1957.
It was topical. It had a great book by Arthur Laurents. It had even better choreography by the legendary Jerome Robbins. And then there was the music: written by Leonard Bernstein with lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.
What’s more, it seemed “of the moment,” dealing with ethnic tensions on the West Side of New York and tracking the turf battles between the Jets and the Sharks.
A new production, currently playing at the Bass Concert Hall on the University of Texas campus, still seems fresh, topical and vibrant. That’s partly because of the timelessness of the original musical, which defies critique. But it’s also related to the lively reproduction by director David Saint and choreographer Joey McKneely.
At Tuesday’s opening night performance in Austin, Michelle Aravena delivered a standout performance as the fiery Anita, who leads the Puerto Rican girls to new heights during the rendition of “America” in the first act. As Maria, Ali Woldt also shines.
The only vulnerable performance in Tuesday evening’s production was by Cary Tedder, an understudy who played the lead male role of Tony, instead of Kyle Harris. Tedder has a great voice and is a more than capable dancer. He is not, however, able to fully realize Tony as an actor. He doesn’t have the aura of danger that the character requires. And he looks as though he has just stepped out of a J. Crew catalog, rather than the mean streets of the West Side.
The sound also wasn’t perfect, but Tuesday’s performance followed a Monday appearance by Yo-Yo Ma at the Bass, so there wasn’t much time to set up for the opening night of “West Side Story.”
“West Side Story” continues through Sunday at the Bass Concert Hall. See www.texasperformingarts.com for tickets.
March 29, 2011
Review: Ballet Austin's 'Studio Theater Project'
Mixing it up can be a good thing.
Ballet Austin makes it work with the “Studio Theater Project,” the mixed repertory program playing through Sunday in the Austin Ventures Studio Theater, the intimate venue inside the company’s downtown headquarters.
Nicolo Fonte’s vigorous, intelligent “Lasting Imprint” brought out both a hard-edged physicality and cool intellectualism in the company’s dancers, something not always seen.
Fonte’s piece — the last of three dances presented and the most stunning — began with the dancers in half light, moving with an almost Butoh-like slowness, then halting to form sharp angled poses. The static hiss of brown noise was the only sound accompaniment. A riveting Paul Michael Bloodgood emerged as the lead in opposition to the corps, his body taut and fluid, his movements more pronounced than others in the pattern of movement and stillness. Then without transition or warning, the frenzy of Steve Reich’s ‘Triple Quartet’ broke the silence, red light flooded the stage and the movement accelerated into continuous rush of dancing. Then it stopped it again. The slowness and silence returning yet this time with a more world-weary tone.
With “Silence Within Silence,” Ballet Austin artistic director Stephen Mills created a jewel of a short dance. Set to Brahms’ stirring, romantic Four Ballades for solo piano — and beautifully yet sharply danced — “Silence” found four couples working through the intricacies and vicissitudes of love. Movement fluctuated — sometimes sensuous and sometimes shot through with athleticism, each duet ending with a striking, inventive pose. “Silence” enters the company’s repertoire as a thoughtful, sensual pas de deux showcase.
Mills’ “Luminaria,” getting its Austin premiere after being made for San Antonio’s festival of the same name, was spirited and simple romp to the gorgeous sounds of Jordi Savall’s interpretations of Spanish New World baroque music.
“Studio Theater Project” continues 7 p.m. Thursday, 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday and 3 p.m. Sunday. Austin Ventures Studio Theater, Ballet Austin, 501 W. Third St. $45. www.balletaustin.org
Photo by Tony Spielberg.
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Review: "The Story Seekers"
Most times, it’s theater that brings princesses and castles to the stage, but in “The Story Seekers,” a new play by Katherine Craft, The Exchange Artists are bringing theater to the castle.
Running now through April 10, the play is a site-specific performance on the grounds of Hyde Park’s Elisabet Ney Museum — the neoclassical, castle-like studio of the 19th century European sculptress.
The setting provides a tranquil frame for the charming young gardener’s son, Gil (Frederic Winkler), to tell stories with his best friend (and inevitable love interest), Bet (Kelli Bland), the princess and heir to the throne. But the children’s innocent adventures turn dangerous when they wind up in the midst of a military coup.
Yet in true fairy tale fashion, at the moment of crisis, Bet is whisked away by a seemingly benevolent Story Teller (Travis Bedard). He takes her to his Neverland of storytelling, where the children are “safe” — even if some of them (those who have “lost their stories”) seem more like a band of autistic Lost Boys than happy-go-lucky little kids. Gil is left behind to lead a lonely revolution in the “real” world.
“The Story Seekers” illustrates the necessity of stories for remembering cultural, historical, and personal pasts. Craft weaves together two versions of totalitarian regimes where the “stories” told are strictly regulated: one, the war-torn world that should have been Bet’s kingdom; the other, a fantastic land of stories where the Story Teller reigns supreme.
In spite of a superficially youthful story line, the show is probably too creepy for very young audiences. Bedard is sinister and vicious as overseer of the children, and the zombie-like creatures (that devour people’s stories) provoke an unnerving response in the children.
The entire cast comes to the performance with a lot of energy, especially the actors portraying a chorus of brainwashed little kids. Jen Brown, Bridget Farr and Karina Dominguez Smith are particularly committed to character, which is often hilarious and captivating (even if occasionally over the top).
Director Rachel Weise uses the grounds well — letting the creek act as a divider between the world of the revolution and that of the Story Teller.
The outdoor, public setting is a refreshing departure from traditional theatrical spaces, and the play certainly resonates with the revolutionary zeitgeist sweeping the Middle East. The venue does present problems on the production side (the lighting is unfortunate), but the verdant backdrop compensates for some otherwise troublesome aspects of the script.
“The Story Seekers” continues 7 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays through April 10. Elisabet Ney Museum, 304 E. 44th St.t. Tickets: $15-25. For reservations e-mail exchangeartists@gmail.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
February 28, 2011
Review: Austin Shakespeare's 'Man and Superman'
We all know the saying: Men are from Mars, women are from Venus. In the case of George Bernard Shaw’s “Man and Superman,” as performed by Austin Shakespeare Company at the Long Center’s Rollins Studio Theatre, men live by their own rules while women covertly chip away at their sense of self-being. Such is certainly the case in the dynamic between the witty play’s two leads, manipulative Ann Whitefield (Kimberly Adams) and eternal bachelor Jack Tanner (Shelby Davenport), as Woman succeeds in bringing Superman down to the level of simply Man.
Jack, who lives by his own moral code, is as complex a man as can be, and Davenport plays the role effectively. Portrayal of the character requires a performance filled with passionate debate and brisk comedic timing; Davenport delivers on both counts. “Marriage to me is a violation of my manhood,” explains Jack, with his characteristically Don Juan attitude.
Ann, who is staving off the affections of the overly romantic Octavius (an appropriately blithering Philip Kreyche), has a huge task ahead of her — to somehow convince Jack, without him realizing what she’s doing, that giving up his manhood will be worth the rewards of marriage. In “Man and Superman,” body language is key, and . Adams gets this. Because Ann is unable to speak plainly of her motivations, the interplay between what comes out of her mouth and what the rest of her body is telling us is oftentimes in direct conflict, and provides comedic fodder that keeps the audience laughing throughout the entire production.
The underpinning of the play’s comedy comes from Shaw’s exquisitely funny language. Though this production of “Man and Superman” is a trimmed down version (at full length, the play runs over four hours long), one would hardly guess it. Its philosophical richness and entertaining language, combined with Austin Shakespeare’s top-notch acting, leads to a certain kind of satisfaction, one that Ann’s character shares with the audience by the end of the play.
“I think men make more mistakes by being too clever than by being too good,” Ann slyly notes, clearly referring to Jack’s agreement to marry her at the end of the play. The final score? Woman: 1, Superman: 0.
‘Man and Superman’ continues through March 6 at the Rollins Studio Theatre, Long Center. $15-$25. www.thelongcenter.org
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelancer arts critic.
Image: Jill Blackwood and Philip Kreyche. Photo by Kimberley Mead.
February 24, 2011
Review: Miro Quartet with Colin Currie
Mixing percussion with a string quartet is a tantalizing bit of weirdness, shaking up the usual routine.
Scottish percussionist Colin Currie is a dynamic marimba player, with laser accuracy, and for him the music of Michael Torke, Dave Maric and Steve Martland is familiar — indeed, he was chosen by the composers to premiere many of these works.
But Tuesday at UT’s Bates Recital Hall, Austin’s Miro Quartet was not to be outdone, handling new — monstrous and tough — pieces with poise and elegance.
The first stand-out was “Mojave,” Michael Torke’s sound poem for the drive from Las Vegas to Los Angeles. Its winding string parts were beautifully evocative of that sparse landscape.
There was so much for the ear to feast on. Currie’s marimba work was mesmerizing, with cathartic chords. The cello was too quiet in the mix, but the Miro grooved comfortably with Torke’s syncopations.
“Starry Night,” by Steve Martland was the American premiere of this gorgeously lush work.
It opens with charging strings but the marimba’s entrance gives you chills. The piece runs non-stop — a lot of counting work for the Miro — infused with African folk tunes. It was a rewarding finale.
Noah Bendix-Balgley filled in nicely for the Miro at second violin, and although the reams of new music had them focused more than usual on their parts, the Miro brought their characteristic expressiveness to bear.
But Currie and the Miro also separated for a few tunes. Currie for Dave Maric’s spare and spooky “Sense and Innoncence,” and the Miro for Samuel Barber’s iconic “Adagio” and Shubert’s “Quartettsatz.”
Currie melds well with Maric’s moody electronic sampling, and it was a crisp, thoughtful work. But things felt a little awry when Currie played Steve Reich’s “Nagoya Marimbas” alongside a pre-recorded tape.
The piece is for two players, so the problem for the soloist is plain: how to coordinate with a second player in each city? But paying to watch one of the world’s best percussionists accompany a tape is absurd.
The live interaction between two intertwining parts is the performance. If this show is to tour around the country, which, by all other indications, it should, the Reich should be reworked or dropped.
With all the transcendent music in this program, it more than overcomes this tiny annoyance, and should it make its way around the country, the Miro and Colin Currie will turn more than a few heads.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Read an interview with Colin Currie and Miro Quartet cellist John Gindele about this concert here.
February 23, 2011
Review: 'CLUTCH, New Music by UT Composers
Watching Clutch — a concert of new compositions from University of Texas Butler School of Music graduate students —on Monday night was like witnessing a conference for magicians, displaying their latest tricks.
The composers are expanding the available tools: bass clarinet, four saxophones, harp, pedals with electronic samples, buckshot on a bass drum.
Composer Steven Snowden is a rising star, and the drama that erupted from his latest percussion work isn’t about to slow his ascension.
Snowden enlisted Line Upon Line, Austin’s up and coming percussion trio, for his three-part work, “A Man With a Gun Lives Here.” The stage contained a chalkboard next to a giant bass drum, lit from below by a yellow floodlight.
As the trio surrounded the horizontal drum, Adam Bedell drew a “one-legged” triangle on the chalkboard. In the near-darkness an eerie mood came on. They traded rhythms, violently banging the drum skin and edge with sticks and the butt end of mallets, like some tribal campfire ceremony.
Or perhaps a fire kept by vagrants, as each movement’s chalkboard symbol carried a message from the system of “hobo signs.”
Snowden’s work recalled a more direct John Cage, while the call and response, to an extent, recalled STOMP. “Be Prepared to Defend Yourself,” the first movement, was aptly named. Rubber balls were dragged across the skin of the drum, reverberating like a warplane overhead.
The third movement introduced a paper bag.
The bag was passed around the drum until being dramatically stabbed with drum sticks, spilling buckshot over the drum. This gave the trio yet another avenue of sound, each bang now echoed with hundreds of jumping ball bearings, the sound of waves from each tilt of the drum.
Theatrics have repercussions though, as Snowden, at intermission, attempted, pitifully, to clear the stage of the metal balls using music stands.
There were plenty more highlights. Max Stoffregen’s “La Magie Noire” was a tidy violin duo with each player literally finish the other’s phrase through the entirety of the piece, alternating with delicate harmonics.
“Funk Off” by Andrew Davis was a clashing history of funk and contemporary art music, with four saxophones.
Like magic, there’s an ephemeral quality to new music. It’s here, then gone. But it’s a chance to go big with your best ideas, and if some of the dissonant, fragmented works don’t translate for the audience, the next new trick is coming up.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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February 22, 2011
Review: "The Threepenny Opera"
A product of the harsh economic and social restrictions of Germany’s Weimar Republic, Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill’s “The Threepenny Opera” began as agit-prop but went on to become a masterpiece of musical theater.
Arguably the first popular show to challenge the saccharine conventions of traditional light operattas — and pave the way for seriously-themed future musicals — “The Threepenny Opera” also emerged as a powerful critique of repressive society and government.
Brecht’s sardonic, biting text — based the famous “Beggar’s Opera by John Gay, from 1728 — paints an early Victorian society of con men, thieves and prostitutes — blood-thirsty capitalists run amok — in which there are no morals and the powerful, not the common man, always wins.
Weill’s brittle harmonies and jazz-infused melodies simultaneously mocked the lighter theatrical musical fare of the time and also catapulted genre to a more musically complex level.
Unfortunately, there is no darkness to the current production of “The Threepenny Opera” by the University of Texas’ theater department playing now through Sunday at the Brockett Theatre.
Directed by third-year MFA student Halena Kays, this “Threepenny” ends up feeling inappropriately light, a romp rather than the sardonic and hard-edge satire of the original material.
Though costumed lushly in period garb (Proletina Veltchev designed the costumes), this production missed the play’s grittiness. Mack the Knife (Kyle Schnack) and his band of thieves, along with the bevy of prostitutes, come off as slapstick, not menacing. And Kays overplays what should be the play’s purposely-stilted theatrics, sending the action at times to overhanging perches or to the far side of the stage’s wings — and subsequently putting the action out of the sight-lines of some audience seating.
A measure of redemption to the misguided direction and theatrical tone comes from the show’s music, directed by associate professor Lyn Koenning who leads a crack ensemble on stage. Likewise Liz Kimball as Polly Peachum, Christopher Reese as Mr. Peachum and Jennifer Adams as Mrs. Peachum had the vocal finesse to make the best of Weill’s urgent yet haunting melodies. Ditto with Amanda Morish as Jenny.
Still, the high spots of singing talent couldn’t make up for a mismanaged and ultimately mistuned production.
‘The Threepenny Opera’ continues 8 p.m. Friday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday. Brockett Theatre, Winship Building, UT campus. $15-$20. www.texasperformingarts.org
Review: "Topdog/Underdog"
When it comes to sibling rivalry, sometimes the only way to heal is to pour salt in the wounds. At least, that seems to be the remedy that brothers Lincoln and Booth keep trying in Suzan-Lori Parks “Topdog/Underdog,” playing now through March 13 at City Theatre.
A riveting and important piece of American theater, “Topdog/Underdog” is about two brothers struggling with poverty, relationships, and abandonment issues.
As teenagers, the brothers had to turn to the streets for survival when both their mother and father disappeared. Lincoln (Richard Rashad Romeo), the elder brother, the topdog, took charge.
With the smooth, hypnotizing rhythm of a skilled hustler, Lincoln slung cards and lulled tourists into parting with their money. But when the luck ran out for one of his friends, Lincoln decided it was time to give up the life of hustling before it was too late.
Now in his thirties, Lincoln is turning over a new leaf, working a day job in an arcade - one that doesn’t pay much, but a steady job with benefits, nonetheless. His little brother, Booth (McArthur Moore), however, is tired of living in Lincoln’s shadow. He’s changing his name to 3-Card and getting ready to hit the streets.
City Theatre’s production illustrates how, even between brothers, familiarity can breed contempt. In a cramped little apartment with no running water, the two brothers achieve some semblance of companionship, but anger and pride are always boiling right below the surface.
Romeo and Moore approach the roles energetically. They layer the tension well, and both build to some emotional and effective moments. But the lyrical and poetic language of the play is often stiff or forced. Neither actor seems entirely comfortable with his lines yet, though this will likely smooth out as the run continues.
“Topdog/Underdog” earned Parks a Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 2002, making her the first African-American to win the award. Ten years after the play’s premier, poverty, exploitation and intra-racial violence are still rampant problems in America.
With Tupac songs playing in between scenes and costumes from the 1990s, City Theatre’s production comes across as something of a museum piece. Yet museums make art more accessible, and City Theatre is bringing a contemporary American classic to Austin.
“Topdog/Underdog” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 5:30 p.m. Sundays through March 1 at City Theatre. www.citytheatreaustin.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
February 21, 2011
Review: Anne Akiko Meyers with the Austin Symphony Orchestra
The Austin Symphony’s season has been laced with soloists, but no other performance approached the technical and emotional caliber of violinist Anne Akiko Meyers Friday night at the Long Center.
From the opening notes of Prokofiev’s “Violin Concerto No.1 in D Major” Meyers’ tone pierced the hall like a laser beam. Her initial slide on the violin’s fingerboard was literally astonishing. It more closely resembled an electric guitar than the Molitor, her $3.6 million Stradivarius.
The Molitor sounds fierce: rich in the lower register, but liquid smooth up higher, so it stands to reason that the rest of her performance would be electrified. But the truth is that Meyers possesses a tone so pure that it emerges just a few times in a generation.
Meyers’ iridescent blue and black dress mimicked her playing: shifting instantaneously from Prokofiev’s delicate muted passages, to wildly demanding pizzicato and roughness near the instrument’s bridge.
Perhaps it’s simply the adversarial nature of the piece, but the symphony felt tentative at time, as it jostled with Meyers for the rhythmic center. Then again, it was a little hard to argue with Meyers’ audibly stomping foot, as it seemed (truthfully or not) to urge the symphony forward.
Stravinsky’s “Petrushka,” though, was the surprise of the evening. Originally scored for the ballet by the same name, the work is a reminder that Stravinsky is music’s James Joyce. Some melodies flow like honey, only to have the rug suddenly pulled out from under them with a low rumble or a circus theme.
But the symphony had this work under its thumb. Maestro Peter Bay, with perfect pacing, set the tone. The orchestra took a piece that feels a little grating on recordings, and made it gorgeous; soft and sweet, but also eliciting chills with abrasive chords when the time came.
The Haydn that began the evening (“Symphony 93 in D Major”) was light and breezy, like a pleasant aperitif. It’s not Beethoven, but the work may have benefited from a quicker pace and more dynamic contrast.
Certainly its finest concert of the season, the ASO hit the sweet spot of a thought provoking Stravinsky interpretation alongside a fiery soloist whose power and grace dominated the stage as only the most gifted artists can.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Ricardo B. Brazziell/American-Statesman.
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February 18, 2011
Review: "Black Watch" at the Bass Concert Hall
Even before the action starts, there’s plenty of dramatic falderal to National Theatre of Scotland’s riveting and emotionally-charged play “Black Watch,” now at UT’s Bass Concert Hall.
Ushers hand you earplugs. You’re warned there will be explosive noise. An announcer reminds that there are medical personnel available should you need them. Menacing spotlights scope the bleacher-like seats and stage area — the entirety of Bass’s 3,000-seats having been foresaken in order for all “Black Watch,” including an audience of 400, to be confined on the venue’s Broadway-sized stage.
But for all the histronic preamble (an affectation of too many a contemporary staging), “Black Watch” evolves as an sincerely thoughtful and originally felt docudrama that utterly transfixes, an ingenious and authentic portrayal of madness of modern warfare.
Written by Gregory Burke and directed by John Tiffany, “Black Watch” is woven from interviews with soldiers who served in Iraq with Scotland’s famed Black Watch regiment, a noble brigade with a 300-year-history
The restless, beer-drinking young men we see rough-talking at a pub at the play’s outset harass the self-serious interviewer there to collect information for the play he is writing — an obvious narrative device whose obviousness nevertheless melts away as the flashbacks unfold.
But soon, without warning, convention breaks.
In seamlessly unfolding scenes — some naturalistic, others dream-like and exquisitely choreographed — the terror, and boredom, of the men’s combat experience unveils. So does their post-combat reckoning of their role in war, as one says, that is not their war: “You’re not defending your country.”
To a one, the 10-member ensemble invests each moment with genuine spontaneity and each character with a subtle individuality. Whether watching — and wondering about — the village-decimating U.S. Army air-strikes or the testerone-fueled re-canting of their experiences in the pub, each deftly combined the addling mix of fear, camaraderie, confusion and isolation that modern warfare heaps upon those who must wage it.
And while Burke’s slang-infused dialogue is sharp, it’s the wordless moments and actions that ring loudest. Associate director Stephen Hoggett’s movement infuses every instance with physical poetry.
In blue light, soldiers silently read letters from home, each enacting an intimate sequence of hand signals — perhaps recalling the day-to-day actions back home. A moment of playful wrestling becomes martial ballet. And in utterly engaging scene, Cammy (Jack Lowden) is twirled by other cast members like a ceremonial staff as he recounts the 300-year history of the Black Watch regiment, all as he is dressed and undressed in historic uniforms.
In the final wordless scene, the men march ceremonially in formation yet stumble and right themselves together, lurching on, then falling apart again and again.
It’s a brilliantly apt — and heart-breaking — metaphor for the ugliness and bewilderment of the Iraqi War. Exquisitely crafted, fundamentally humane, “Black Watch” is essential theater.
“Black Watch” continues through Feb. 20. $38. See www.texasperformingarts.org for tickets.
Photo by Manuel Harlan.
Permalink | | Categories: Reviews, Theatre, UT Texas Performing Arts
Review: Steven Dietz's "Fiction"
Writers keep journals for lots of reasons—to observe the world, to release emotions, to complain about everyday life. We usually assume what’s written in someone’s journal is true. But how do we know it’s not made up?
That’s the question at the heart of Steven Dietz’s fast-paced and witty “Fiction,” now playing at Zach Theatre under the direction of Charles Otte. “Fiction” tells the story of Linda Waterman (Meredith McCall) and her husband Michael (Robert Gomes), both successful writers and sharp-tongued intellectuals.
From their first meeting at a Parisian cafe, where the two debate whether “reductivity” is a word and try to answer the question of what is the greatest rock vocal performance of all time, it’s clear that these two are brought together by their passion for life, literature, and the artfully turned phrase.
Their comfortable life is shaken by the news that Linda has a malignant brain tumor. Linda knows that, as a writer, her journals will be read and examined after her death, so she has one request from her husband—that he let her read his journals before she passes.
Michael nervously agrees. As Linda reads the journals, the play travels back in time to Michael’s stint at the Drake Writer’s Colony, where he meets Abby (Sydney Andrews), a self-possessed woman whom he flirts and spars with. The two then embark on an affair that, according to Michael’s journals, spans several years. But did it really happen or did he invent the story?
Without giving away some of the play’s juicy revelations, let’s just say that it continues to tease out questions about what is true, what is fictional, and what has been hidden in the pages of both Michael’s and Linda’s journals.
The ensemble is tight and focused. McCall plays Linda as bright and ironic, with vulnerable undertones. As Michael, Gomes is delightfully pompous, constantly using big words and reveling in his own ability to pass off lines from other writers as his own.
“Fiction” keeps the audience on its toes. It’s quick, wordy, and full of literary allusions and memorable one-liners. The play’s simple and minimalistic staging allows the audience to keep on questioning what is real and what is imagined.
‘Fiction’ continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through April 10 at Zach Theatre’s Whisenhunt Stage, 1510 Toomey Road. $20-$49. www.zachtheatre.org.
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
Permalink | | Categories: Claire Canavan, Reviews, Theatre, Zach Theatre
Review: Chaddick Dance Theatre
Dance is often a natural platform for exploring human relationships, as its manifestation is as emotional as it is physical. Such was certainly the case Thursday at Chaddick Dance Theater’s “Tender Voices in Flight” at the Austin Ventures Studio Theater. Though the evening’s four pieces were created by three different choreographers, it was impossible to ignore the through-line of humanity.
“Exceptional Utopias” marked veteran choreographer Kate Warren’s first piece for Chaddick Dance Theater. Four women in black dresses perform partner work to string quartet Ethel, exploring those moments — those “utopias” — that make life worth living. Repeated leg extensions evoke elegance. In one moment, a trio lines up one behind the other, posing in arabesque with their legs stretched out at different heights. These women are clearly individuals, yet their lives are inextricably linked.
In artistic director Cheryl Chaddick’s “Ask No More,” projected images of voluptuous women in pre-Raphaelite paintings are contrasted with photos of modern women — namely skinny, angular supermodels, with a few images of Barbie thrown. The six dancers fly about the stage with total freedom of movement, as though they know they can choose to be whoever they want to be.
Largely set to the music of Czech violinist and singer Iva Bittova, the piece’s vivacious choreography matches the costumes, consisting of white circle cut skirts with tops in bright colors. A costume change introduces a precious segment. Donning white togas (Greek goddesses come to mind), four women move slowly and tenderly on and around a bench. They embrace each other, accepting one another wholeheartedly through a series of tableaus. They are a living, breathing image.
Two Left Feet’s “Films Are No Longer Silent (Smile, Even Though It’s Breaking…)” explores the silent film medium. The three dancers, portraying a husband, wife and maid, exquisitely capture what it means to act in a silent film. Their exaggerated body language and freakishly comical facial expressions make the scenes of domesticity a riot, as they scurry and scamper across the stage.
“The Exchange Quotient,” another piece by Chaddick, also calls for dancers with acting skills. The powerful, driving music, combined with the number’s extensive partner work, lays the groundwork for investigating the hottest of emotions: anger. Throughout, a sensation of push and pull takes us on our own personal journey, even as we watch what’s unfolding onstage. How do we deal with our anger? Do we cover our mouths, as some of the dancers do, and hold it in, only to suffer violent outbursts? Or do we release it for the world to see? “It’s just not ladylike or pretty to be angry,” says one dancer, who is clearly repeating what her mother has taught her.
One thing was evident by the end of the night: Chaddick Dance Theater’s women are multi-talented, capable of hitting the mark across the spectrum.
“Tender Voices in Flight” continues 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday. www.chaddickdancetheater.com
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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February 16, 2011
Review: 'Heddatron'
Artists have been warning us for centuries about the dangers of technology. They’ve begged us to consider the consequences of innovation, to be careful what we wish for.
In recent decades, they’ve also begun to lament technology’s negative impact on theater. Most theaters can’t keep up with the kinds of special effects that society seems to crave.
In New York, Julie Taymor’s $65 million production of the Spider-Man musical doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. But Salvage Vanguard’s production of “Heddatron,” running now through March 5th, proves that you don’t need a Broadway budget to bring technology to the stage, and the play reminds us to be kind to our computers.
Elizabeth Meriwether’s play explores the consequences of feeling trapped in your own body — whether it’s made of flesh and bone or tin and flashing lights. It draws a comparison between toasters and housewives, presumably arguing for more humane treatment of both.
One of the central questions of “Heddatron” is whether or not a group of renegade robots really abducts a pregnant housewife, Jane (Amy Downing), and force her to perform Ibsen’s “Hedda Gabler” in a rainforest in Ecuador. Or, if this vision is all the invention of Jane’s 10-year old daughter, Nugget (Ava Johns), in an effort to explain her mother’s disappearance.
Director Dustin Wills answers that question for us. With exaggerated characters and idiosyncratic costumes, the world of this production reads clearly as the creation of a child’s imagination.
Now, the Nugget of Meriwether’s play is wise beyond her years, and her imagination vibrant. By turning the characters into projections of Nugget’s imagination, and in having a child actor perform the part, Wills dilutes much of the play’s emotional tension, turning it into a fun and funny romp with robots.
Jennymarie Jemison is utterly delightful as Else the “kitchen slut,” but the whimsical treatment overshadows the sadness of the maid’s real condition in Ibsen’s (Robert Pierson) time. There’s no weight to the characters’ interaction because they are never real for us, even if they are extremely amusing.
And yet, the talented design team creates a world in “Heddatron” that reminds us how magical theater can be. Buzz Moran’s sound design engulfs us in the music and mayhem, and Lee Webster’s projections create voluptuous textures on the floor and walls. Natalie George’s lights bring the robot forest to life, and Lisa Laretta’s set design is eclectic and fascinating as always.
‘Heddatron’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 6 p.m. Sundays through March 5 at Salvage Vanguard Theatre, 2803 Manor Road. $15 (Thursdays Pay-What-You-Can). www.salvagevanguardtheater.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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February 14, 2011
Review: Emanuel Ax, piano
During his quick lifetime, the composer Franz Schubert sought a legacy of his own.
Composing music in Vienna under the shadow of Beethoven must have felt like writing plays in London next to Shakespeare. As Michael Tusa said in his pre-concert lecture, Schubert dedicated a sonata to Beethoven, but scholars aren’t sure Schubert and his mentor ever met.
After Schubert died at 31 it took decades for the dust to settle, for his most original music to be widely published and appreciated.
Celebrated pianist Emanuel Ax’s all-Schubert concert nicely demonstrated the arc of Schubert’s career, at Bates Recital Hall Thursday night.
Schubert attempted to sell complex sonata-like pieces by renaming them “impromptus,” short works en vogue at the time.
Ax began with “Impromptus Op. 142,” four works that are thought to belong together, and showcase Schubert’s struggle between complexity and popularity. They are alternately lyrical, with hummable tunes, and brilliantly complex, with long arpeggiated runs and surprising key changes.
Ax was a strong presence, infinitely composed while stretching through all corners of the piano.
The proper sonatas came next, with “Sonata No. 13 in A Major,” which Ax began with perfect pace. But the work falters slightly midway through, feeling a little short on drama.
If the impromptus and first sonata were more gymnastic than memorable, the “Sonata in B Flat Major” makes you wish Schubert had lived a few more decades.
Replete with sudden, dramatic pauses and a handful of tunes that wind a bittersweet feeling through the work, this work is a masterpiece.
In the digital era, hearing two hours of a single composer works against our instincts. We crave variety, and ultimately programs like this are more academic than emotive. But Ax is a silently brilliant tactician who made them look easy. He played the entire concert from memory, and only once did his eyes flicker in surprise at having missed a note.
The packed house at Bates was obviously smitten and ready for an encore, when Ax, like a Zen professor, quieted the crowd and thanked them for being an outstanding audience, putting the night to an end. Ever the master.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: Ballet Austin's 'La Sylphide'
Possession. It’s what Scotsman James wants in the 19th century romantic ballet “La Sylphide” when he tries to tame a free-spirited forest fairy by binding her wings. We’re presented with the age-old question, at least in the world of ballet — can love between a mortal man and a woman in white lead to a happy ending? If you’ve seen “Giselle,” “La Bayadère” or “Swan Lake” to name a few, you can guess the answer: No.
Ballet Austin’s production of Danish ballet master August Bournonville’s “La Sylphide” at the Long Center Friday marked the first time the ballet has been performed in the city. In some ways, it’s an unconventional choice of ballet to present on Valentine’s Day weekend — because James is unable to touch the sylph until he ties her up with a magical scarf, the ballet is devoid of a single luscious pas de deux between its two leads. The realization of their love is unattainable, especially evident when the sylph dies at James’ touch.
To embody the otherworldly role of the sylph, the ballerina is required to be light on her feet, while playfully mischievous at the same time. Aara Krumpe, in flowing stark white tulle, danced the character beautifully. One moment she would move across the stage with the help of her pointe shoes on her tippy toes, the next tilt her body towards the floor with one leg as her anchor, the other gorgeously extended behind her. She always remained an enticing few inches outside of James’ grasp.
James is the polar opposite of his would-be lover. Donning a kilt with furs belted around his waist, Frank Shott illustrated the character’s connection to the earthly. His huntsman’s lodge, complete with a deer-antler-and-candle chandelier, is seen in contrast to the sylph’s realm of the forest, flooded with girls in white. Both sets as well as the costumes were on loan from Boston Ballet.
But it’s not all doom and gloom. Christopher Swaim took the role of Gurn, desperately in love with James’ betrothed Effie, and turned him, appropriately, into a galumphing doofus. Swaim’s priceless facial expressions brought forth such laughter from the audience that, by Act II, all he had to do was walk onstage to elicit giggles.
In the end, the sylph’s lifeless body floats up, up and away in a leafy vessel. It’s a poignant moment for James, who realizes once and for all the foolishness of his need for possession.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
February 9, 2011
Review: 'Eurydice'
Wedding vows tell us that only death will keep two lovers apart. Yet, when that tie is severed too soon, some will go to any lengths to be with their beloved — especially in mythology.
In Sarah Ruhl’s reimagining of the Orpheus myth, “Eurydice,” playing now through Feb. 13 at St. Edward’s University, two newlyweds are torn asunder on their wedding day by the bride’s untimely death. Wracked with grief, Orpheus (Nathan Brockett) follows Eurydice (Cassidy Schiltz) into the underworld in a desperate attempt to bring her back.
The Lord of the Underworld (David Stahl) agrees to give Orpheus his wish — on one condition. Eurydice can follow Orpheus out, provided he leaves without looking back.
“Eurydice” proves that not all love stories have happy endings, and that the underworld is not a place for love or laughter or remembering. It’s difficult to avoid looking back, to have faith, to hope. The play asks, as Eurydice’s father (Jamie Goodwin) does, “how does one remember to forget?”
Despite the weighty subject matter, however, the play offers welcome comic relief. David Stahl is delightfully diabolical (and bizarre), and David Cameron Allen, Sophia Franzella, and Kendra K. Perez (The Chorus of Stones) are exceptionally well synced and animated.
Yet for a tale of love and loss, the emotions in St. Edward’s production are surprisingly flat. Brockett has an undeniable charm about him, but his charisma hinders the believability of his grief. Schiltz successfully conveys the happy emotions (though often inappropriately giddy), but her presentation lacks range. The lovers’ relationship is ultimately less compelling than the concern of a father for his daughter.
Jamie Goodwin’s performance is crisp, nuanced and engaging. As the play progresses we follow his character’s arc with compassion.
From a production standpoint, St. Edward’s staging is scattered, full of unnecessary and distracting flourishes. The characters’ entrances and exits are illogical, and the platforms underused. Recognizable songs (and costume pieces) are jarring, and traveling spotlights call more attention to the operators than the characters.
Ruhl’s stage directions ask a lot of a designer, calling for a room of string and a raining elevator, but Chase Staggs’ scene design is too subdued to impress.
Sarah Garcia’s hair and make-up design is excellent, and Buffy Manners’ costumes for the people of the underworld are pleasingly whimsical. But the whimsy doesn’t translate to Manners’ other costumes, and the result is an inconsistent and unfocused vision.
‘Eurydice’ continues 7:30 pm Feb. 10-12, 2 p.m. Feb. 13. Mary Moody Northen Theatre, St. Edward’s University.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Image: Cassidy Schlitz as Eurydice. Photo by Bret Brookshire.
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January 31, 2011
Review: Austin Lyric Opera's "The Italian Girl in Algiers"
Rossini’s comic opera, “The Italian Girl in Algiers,” was a breezy start to the new year for the Austin Lyric Opera Saturday night at the Long Center.
The funny, lighthearted work is energized by strong leads, clever staging and a nimble score.
The orchestra, under the vibrant direction of Richard Buckley, sets the mood with a brisk, melodic opening. Then, the trouble: a biplane streaks across the stage.
Applause erupts as the set “opens,” revealing a Moorish palace court, with patterned floor and archways.
Elvira (Cara Johnston) enters, complaining that her husband, Mustafa, has fallen out of love.
Mustafa, the “bey,” (a governor, of sorts), makes it known that he’s had his fill with his wife. He’s over her preening and her extravagant demands on his time. That, and he hears stories about the women of Italy.
So, Mustafa declares his plan: He’ll ship Elvira off to Italy with his Italian slave, Lindoro (Javier Abreu), and he’ll send his men to fetch him a Lamborghini upgrade.
As luck would have it, the very woman arrives, having crashed her (stylish) plane in desert, with her new man, Taddeo (Peter Strummer).
But Isabella (Sandra Piques Eddy) is more horsepower than Mustafa expected, and she plots an escape with her fiance, Lindoro.
The leads are brilliant. Pecchioli’s Mustafa dances and moves like Michael Jackson in “Thriller.” His face is elastic, and from pompous to effeminate, he’s hilarious.
Eddy embodies Isabella perfectly, as a cross between Amelia Earhart and Sophia Loren.
The voices of both were resonant and fluid, transmitting a bouquet of emotions, from comedy to despair.
Abreu is fun to watch as the straight man, Lindoro, but his voice seemed a little thin as it crept to the lower register.
All secondary parts were outstanding, most notably Strummer as “uncle” Taddeo, a classic comedy “big man.” Strummer’s perfect timing was matched by an ample voice, which made his little shrieks and movements even funnier.
The score is just as much fun, even when the orchestra outpaced the singers in some brisk verbal passages.
The orchestra’s dynamics were especially tight, and a horn solo early in the first half was especially sonorous and beautiful. The whole work felt fresh.
“The Italian Girl in Algiers” continues 7:30 p.m. Feb. 2 and Feb. 4, 3 p.m. Feb. 6 at the Long Center. www.austinlyricopera.org
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: "Flying"/New Russian Festival
As the pounding beat of techno music fills the theater, six 20-somethings swagger purposefully onto the stage, donning outrageously trendy outfits. Over the course of two acts, Russian playwright Olga Mukhina’s “Flying” depicts a wasteland of sex, drugs and unrequited love, and philosophical ponderings about the aforementioned. These Russian youths may just be the hippest people you’ll ever meet, but at the end of the day, we’re glad we’re not one of them.
In the English language premiere of “Flying,” presented as part of Breaking String Theater’s New Russian Drama Festival at the Off Center, there simply are no weak links. Mukhina’s punchy writing is brought to life via acting of the highest caliber, thoughtful staging by Graham Schmidt, ridiculously cool costumes by Jamie Urban and realistic lighting by Steven Shirey, especially in the racy club scenes.
The play is riddled with one-liners delivered flawlessly by the 10-person cast that, again and again (and again), elicit laughter from the audience. As a quick-thinking television promoter, Jesse Bertron is hilarious. His facial expressions and comedic timing match his character’s name — Maniac. Adriene Mishler, who plays insecure on-screen star Snowflake, is also a delight to watch. At times melancholic (especially when she’s on tranquilizers), and at other times sharply observational, Snowflake is as real as it gets, thanks to Mishler.
Schmidt’s staging and Mishler’s movement direction visually reads like an expertly choreographed dance. While there is literal dancing in the club scenes, in between these moments the flow of bodies onstage never ceases. These hipsters are on the edge, both physically and mentally; they’re in each other’s faces; they’re intimate. We realize they’re going to keep up their fast-paced lifestyles until they crack or, as in the case of designer Orangina (played by bouncy Michelle Keffer), they find religion.
“Flying” is funny and poetic; the fact that Mukhina has accomplished both at the same time speaks to her creative genius. “Love is destiny putting you to the test,” says one boy. Do you laugh or weep at this statement? It’s your choice.
“Flying” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Mondays through Feb. 14, 8 p.m. Feb. 17-19 at the Off Center, 2211 Hidalgo. www.breakingstring.com
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Review: "Red Hot Patriot: The Kick-Ass Wit of Molly Ivins'
Like star-crossed lovers, or peanut butter and jelly, Austin and the new play “Red Hot Patriot: The Kick-Ass Wit of Molly Ivins” were made for each other.
Written by journalists (and twin sisters) Margaret and Allison Engel and directed by David Esbjornson, “Red Hot Patriot” is a sharp, fast-paced, hilarious, and ultimately moving tribute to Molly Ivins, the Texas journalist whose folksy yet razor sharp wit famously skewered those in power.
The show opened in March last year at the Philadelphia Theatre Company with Kathleen Turner in the title role, but it’s hard to imagine the show having a more receptive audience than at its Texas premiere at Zach Theatre, with local actress Barbara Chisholm playing Ivins.
Ivins, who passed away four years ago at the age of 62 after battling breast cancer, was a master of the one-liner, and “Red Hot Patriot” is full of her pithy and incisive political commentary.
The one-woman show starts with Ivins attempting to write a column about her conservative father, with whom she disagreed on almost everything. As old photographs of Ivins and the people she worked with and wrote about (Bob Bullock, George W. Bush, whom she famously nicknamed “Shrub”) flash onto a screen, Ivins regales the audience with colorful stories as only she can.
We follow her from her days as one of the only women at the Houston Chronicle in the early 1960s to her stint at the New York Times, where she claimed fussy editors watered down her prose (turning “beer gut” into “protuberant abdomen”).
And then there were her days at the Texas Observer, where Ivins excelled at taking on the ridiculousness of Texas legislators. As she marveled about that time, “Can you believe God gave me all of this material for free?” Throughout, the audience has the pleasure of feeling that Ivins is talking directly to us.
Barbara Chisholm inhabits the part with equal parts respect and fieistiness. She truly shines as Ivins, playing the tender moments equally as well as the bawdy jokes and sassy one-liners. Her unflagging energy drives the show forward and she is able to find the real humanity in an often larger-than-life character.
Among the many lines that popped, one seemed to capture the essence of why Ivins’ brand of humor was so important. “Jokes are very important to me, a fact you may have gleaned by now,” she said.
“But they are a means to an end. When people laugh, they open up their ears and hear you.”
‘Red Hot Patriot’ continues through 8 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through March 13. Zach’s Kleberg Stage, 1510 Toomey Rd. $20-$57 ($15 student tickets one hour prior to curtain). www.zachtheatre.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Laura Skelding/American-Statesman
January 28, 2011
Review: Bang on A Can All-Stars with Glenn Kotche
Bang On a Can have been banging on pianos, drum kits and strings since they formed in 1987 to fill in the gap between avant garde classical and experimental pop.
Their All-Star descendants played a compelling show at UT’s Bass Concert Hall on Wednesday, with special guest, percussionist Glenn Kotche.
Kotche is the drummer for beloved alt-American band Wilco, but he’s also released three solo record. This concert gave evidence that he writes absorbing, original music outside the rock sphere.
Uniting with percussionist Ian Ding, Kotche starred in the second half, with a dazzling expansion of Steven Reich’s “Clapping.”
Reich’s piece was a spare work for four hands — an academic response to African rhythms. Kotche’s variations are for four hands and four feet, challenging the ears to anchor onto an individual rhythm before it morphs to another.
Ding and Kotche then swap drum kits for the floor, covered in resonant metal plates, and pick up a new rhythm. You almost pine for Reich’s simple handclaps.
The next two works were equally engaging, and a generous transition from the first half, which pushed the boundaries of how long an audience can withstand a single musical motif.
The All-Stars began with the first movement of Brian Eno’s seminal ambient work “Music for Airports.” It’s astounding that such a modern piece was written in 1978.
The problem with a long ambient work is that its purpose is to be stimulating background music. It served that purpose phenomenally well, but after the initial theme began to loop for the fourth or fifth time, with only microscopic adjustments, it became apparent that the piece just doesn’t work on stage. It lacks a visual stimulus, of say, travelers and aircraft landings.
A similar issue occurred with a frenetic, devil’s-workshop interpretation of Workers Union by Louis Andriessen. The piece allows the musicians to choose their own notes, but not rhythms or dynamics.
Pieces like this are why Bang On a Can exist, and it was thrilling to watch them play it, at first.
But after ten minutes it was like listening to a thousand third graders eat lunch — in synchronized, polyphonic rhythm.
Thank goodness for Michael Gordon’s beautiful and brilliant “For Madeline.” An elegy to his mother, it’s melancholic, with little dark melodies, glissandos angling up and down against the background of pulsing marimba.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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January 26, 2011
Review: "A Writer's Vision(s)"
At a live performance, there’s a current in the air that can’t be captured on film. It can’t be replicated, duplicated, or transmitted beyond the four walls of the theater. And when a cast is really excited about a performance, the audience can feel it in their bones.
“A Writer’s Vision(s),” written and directed by John Boulanger as part of this year’s FronteraFest, is one of those rare pieces of theater in which the energy is infectious. Every member of this twelve-person cast brings something delightful and dynamic to the performance.
Constructed from three one-act plays that Boulanger wrote early in his graduate program, the piece centers on a writer named Jerome (Michael Amendola), who is visited by a series of visions — or hallucinations, or nightmares depending on how you feel about muses, mimes and mother figures.
Obviously a combination of disparate parts, the piece is glued together by a Dr. Suess-style narrator (Ian Scott) who speaks in verse and takes us back to childhood — only with more life experience and a lot more cursing. The cursing gets a bit egregious, and the verse is a bit strained in places, but their whimsicality keeps us along for the ride, as do Jillian Hanel’s vibrant and enchanting costumes.
In the first act, Jerome is visited by his blind muse, Zing (Breanna Stogner), a mime (Travis Emery), and his alcoholic and promiscuous mother (Babs George). Stogner is a hilarious combination of awkward and lascivious, and Emery’s mime is exceptionally expressive. As the wealthy and inattentive mother-figure, George’s performance is priceless.
The second act opens with a return to childhood — both through flashback and with the reappearance of Jerome’s inner child (Martin Burke). His inner child has arrived to help Jerome remember how to play — whether he likes it or not.
Burke is hilariously manic in this scene, with impressive vivacity and enthusiasm. Jill Blackwood gracefully steps into the mother role, glove wearing and well-coiffed. Justin Scalise performs the writer’s younger self, throwing a fantastic anti-broccoli tantrum.
The third piece is a bit more convoluted, and here the disconnection between the acts becomes more pronounced. Jerome is struggling to distinguish between fiction and reality, and can’t make up his mind which of his three psychologists is real (Quinn Walton, Lauren Lane, and Helen Allen), and which is his repressed sexuality (Scott Swanson).
“A Writer’s Vision(s)” is a unique and energetic piece of theater that might not work outside a fringe festival, but which is certainly a highlight of this year’s FronteraFest.
“A Writer’s Vision(s)” continues at 10:15 p.m. Jan. 28 and 5:15 p.m. Sunday at Salvage Vanguard, 2803 Manor Road. Suggested Donation $10.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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January 24, 2011
Review: Conspirare & Robert Kyr
The church was dark. Tall wooden platforms holding rows of candles were being carefully lit, when a single, angelic voice reverberated from outside the hall.
A small chorus of voices joined in, slowly coming closer and louder, until they entered St. Martin’s Lutheran Church, where all the candles were now lit, casting an alluring glow from the altar. The voices swirled around the pews and the singers of Conspirare stepped in to begin a concert of work by Renaissance master Josquin des Prez.
Friday night’s concert — the first in a series of four for the Grammy-nominated Austin choir ‘Renaissance and Response’ festival featuring new compositions by composer Robert Kyr — was directed by Conspirare artistic director Craig Hella Johnson with effortless ease.
(Kyr’s challenge, a commission from Conspirare, was to compose a 21st-century responses to music of Josquin, Orlandus Lassus, Tomas Luis de Victoria and J.S. Bach.)
De Profundis began, appropriately, from the depths, with bass David Farwig and tenor Tracy Jacob Shirk’s stark duo. They established the beautiful straight-tone that would echo throughout the evening: the entire choir eschewing vibrato, which illuminated flawless tone, pitch and harmony.
The concert was a display of the flat-out power of these voices, without adornment. Only the string parts felt occasionally flat.
Josquin’s music was a revelation. Its sparse beauty contrasts with the bubbling of voices that whirl about each other. “Gaude Virgo Mater Christi” split into gusts of windy melodies, until the piece ended in unison, with a long, powerful reverberation.
Kyr’s response to Josquin was an expansive cap to the evening. Its haunting Latin blended with gorgeous English phrases as the choir again encircled the pews, leaving only Abigail Lennox‘s voice to fly around the bricks and domed ceiling, slowly bringing the circle to a close.
Certainly, the Josquin was Conspirare’s best program of the season, perhaps one of its best to date. It was a resounding success: solemn, serious, and gorgeous.
On Sunday, three concerts later on the four-concert program, the ensemble joined a last time to sing Bach and reconsidered all of the Renaissance composers in Kyr’s four responses.
In the daylight of St. Martin’s, Bach felt a little diminished next to the stark beauty of the Renaissance composers.
Bach’s influence looms so large that his style of bright polyphony and counterpoint is still emulated today. So there was an inevitable comedown after the alien beauty of Josquin.
Even on their last, exhausting concert, Conspirare sounded strong. Kyr’s cantata alternated his Renaissance responses with a duo that took its lyrics from “Dark Night of the Soul,” by St. John of the Cross. They told the entire story, reaching a poignant climax, though certain sections felt a touch drawn out.
Kyr’s responses to Lassus and Victoria loomed large, especially “From the Abyss,” which told the story of Jonah and the Whale through the music of Lassus. Conspirare’s singers captured this babbling brook of music, swelling like the sea with its dark, haunting chords.
Kyr’s works were impeccably envisioned. They reinvigorated the concerts as a palate cleanser while expanding on each composer’s musical and lyrical ideas.
Spiritual, contemplative music, with the dazzling arrangements and work of Kyr and Johnson, Austin has much to anticipate from the future of this partnership.
‘Renaissance and Response’ was performed at St. Martin’s Lutheran Church Jan. 21-23 by Conspirare. See Conspirare brings new vigor to Renaissance music.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'Spirits to Enforce'
Bruce Wayne was lucky enough to be independently wealthy, but as Peter Parker and Clark Kent can tell you, being a superhero doesn’t generally mean you can quit your day job.
Capital T Theatre’s production of “Spirits to Enforce,” playing now through Feb. 12. at the Blue Theatre, shows us what happens when a group of twelve quirky superheroes take to telemarketing. But this band of spirits isn’t cold-calling people just to pay the bills, they’re fundraising for a production of Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” — in which they’ll all be performing, and are all (apparently) trying to direct.
The show opens with energy and bustling activity — surprising given that the characters are all seated and speaking into telephones. As they plead with people to donate money for their upcoming production (which admittedly sounds pretty awful), we get a clear sense of the dismay that comes with hopeless fundraising efforts.
For their New Directions program, Capital T offers their FronteraFest show to a young director with no professional credit. Yale graduate Gary Jaffe directs this difficult and static play effectively on the whole.
At times, however, the conventions of the world of the play seem to shift, resulting in some confusion. While “Spirits” seems to be commenting on disconnection by having characters speak to each other through phone lines, it’s unclear at times whether or not they can see each other or are in the same room. Or, rather, the same submarine.
They’re calling people from their secret hideout, and sound designer Brett Hamann skillfully crafts the world of a decrepit and creaky underwater lair.
Listening to one half of a phone conversation can be exasperating in real life, and in a play that is entirely constructed of one-sided dialogue, it does get old at times. But the dialogue moves in waves — often overlapping, rising to a cacophony, and receding into quietude — and the top-notch cast manages to keep it engaging.
As “The Bad Map” and “Fragrance Fellow,” La Tasha Stevens and Stephen Mercantel are delightfully expressive, though, admittedly, this occasionally lapses into scene stealing.
As “The Page” and “Ariel,” Jenny Gravenstein and Jay Fraley eloquently steer the play with grace and Shakespeare.
“Spirits to Enforce” is a fun adventure in meta-theater, a commentary on the problem of too many cooks in a kitchen (or too many heroes in a play), illustrating the tensions of fundraising, disparate artistic visions, and trying to please everyone at once — including a hostile audience (of super-villains).
“Spirits to Enforce” continues 9 p.m. Jan. 28, 1 p.m. Jan. 30. and 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturday at Feb. 1-12 at the Blue Theatre, 916 Springdale Road. $15. www.fronterafest.org.
Cate Blouke is an American—Statesman freelance arts critic.
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January 18, 2011
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra plays Dvorak's "The New World."
“America is full of Indians and wild animals,” says the voice of Antonin Dvorak. It’s 1891 and the composer is mulling over an opportunity to write a symphony.
Dvorak is reluctant, but accepts, and he embarks with his family to New York.
The swirling black and white footage of a sea voyage was a stunning beginning to the live, before-your-eyes film that played onstage above the live narrators and the Austin Symphony Orchestra with conductor Peter Bay, the film’s soundtrack.
The concert’s confusing title (Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s “Beyond the Score”) led to a slightly comical online disclaimer that read “NOTE: Chicago Symphony is not performing.” There was some confusion as to what the program entailed.
With the lush narration talents of Dianne Donovan, Rick Rowley and Tom Byrne (as Dvorak), the period film footage told the story of the construction of Dvorak’s ninth symphony, “The New World.”
The sea rocks and swells with Dvorak’s music pulsing, then the brick and iron of the city vibrates with the crush of people in Lower East Side markets. There’s footage of Niagara Falls and Native Americans in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.
Throughout, the narrators embody different characters. The composer is concerned that expectations of him are too great. He senses that he’s being asked “to create for them a national music.”
Dvorak is moved by the story of Hiawatha (actually a Scandinavian myth, we’re told), but here the film lulls, hitting the musical cues while abandoning the narrative.
For the second half, the ASO performed the symphony in its entirety.
It opened with good energy, building to the major theme, but the second movement began a little roughly, with imprecise entries from the brass. The winds and oboe, in particular, made up for it, carrying the solo melody.
The strings’ dynamics had, at times, some wonderful movement.
The third movement, though, felt a little sluggish, and would have welcomed a little more pace.
Although balance seemed fine, this listener’s ear formed a direct, and unfortunate, link to the bell of a trombone for most of the night, again suffering from the hyper-fragility of the Long Center’s acoustics.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'Going With Jenny'
Whether it’s disentangling staples from locks of hair or a botched first kiss in front of the entire drama class, dating is difficult, especially in high school. But Penfold Theatre’s production of “Going with Jenny” by Thomas and Sherry Jo Ward, playing now through January 30th at the Round Rock Public Library, illustrates that the struggles don’t stop after the wedding vows.
A series of intertwined monologues between a Husband (Nathan Jerkins) and Wife (Molly Fonseca), “Going With Jenny” follows an evening in the couple’s increasingly distressing routine. Married quite young, Wife explains that she was prepared for adversity, but she hadn’t planned on the impending boredom that they’re struggling with now.
The couple’s monologues start in the same place (their grade-school significant others), but the two narratives don’t follow the same trajectory. Instead, both stories orbit around the husband - he’s definitely the center of this solar system, which explains the imbalance in both the relationship and the play.
Husband spent a lot of his youth not talking to girls and falling in love with them anyway. An awkward and shy kid, he’s grown into an inept and complacent adult, reminiscing about the good times he could have had and living vicariously through the college kids across the street. Jerkins brings a nice comedic timing to his performance, but his Husband is a character instead of a person. As Wife, on the other hand, Molly Fonseca delivers sincerity and spunk that make her character both likeable and more real.
Having dated a series of women all named Jenny, Husband admits that he frightened each of them away by prematurely (and almost immediately) declaring his love. Yet the looming question that remains unanswered is how his marriage is different from his former fiascos.
“Going With Jenny” is a surprising mix of family and Christian values centered on an unhappy marriage. The play definitely supports a heteronormative world-view, despite the couple’s problems and the awkward and forced anonymity of characters named “Husband” and “Wife.” But the relationship seems more like a case of fools rush in than an endorsement of true love.
Despite some unflattering costume choices, the production is well staged. Aaron Bell’s set and lighting design deal skillfully with an unconventional space, and the attention to detail is refreshing.
Though the sparkle of the couple’s relationship has worn off, the play offers moments of sincerity and humor that a marriage can’t go without.
“Going With Jenny” continues 8 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays through Jan. 29. Round Rock Public Library 216 E. Main Street. $20. 850-4849 www.penfoldtheatre.org
January 7, 2011
Review: Tango Buenos Aires
Onstage, a man and a woman become one. The music — rich, deep, melancholic — magnetizes them, until they’ve lost all sense of self-identity. They are living for each other.
Those at the Long Center Thursday evening for Tango Buenos Aires’ production of “Fire and Passion of Tango” were fortunate to be able to witness what tango is all about. The 10-dancer company exemplified subtlety, coordination, union and passion to the music of a live five-piece ensemble, eliciting ooohs and aaahs from the audience.
To hear tango music live is to feel something shift at the very core of your being. Tango Buenos Aires’ combination of the deep notes of the upright bass and bandoneón (an accordion-like instrument) with the sweet melodies of the violin, guitar and piano, is orchestrated by the company’s musical director Emilio Kauderer, perhaps best known in the U.S. for co-composing the score for 2010’s Oscar-winning foreign film “The Secret in Their Eyes.”
Love is at the heart of the storyline the dancers enact via 24 vignettes, choreographed by Susana Rojo. In the opening number, all five couples build momentum together by dancing fabulously in unison.
In a brief but odd detour to the world of classical ballet — splits and all — the company’s lead dancer removes her tango shoes to don slippers; fortunately, her stiletto heels make a quick return, and the rest of the evening is pure tango.
The most breathtaking partnering comes in the first half of the production. A woman in a lavender chiffon dress and her partner effortlessly dance a series of electrifyingly different moves: He lifts her, and she pedals her feet, as though running on air; they begin a lightening-quick series of legwork, their lower limbs weaving in and out of each other, and one almost expects an intricate tapestry to appear out of nowhere as a result.
The next couple is also skilled at legwork, moving so concisely it appears as though their legs are unattached to their torsos. Another optical illusion is created when the lead dancer dons a dress half red, half fuchsia. Her partner, in flipping her from side to side, shows off a woman split down the middle, torn between two men. In another vignette, two couples meld to become a quartet, arms sideways on each other’s shoulders.
Perhaps that’s what is most beautiful of all about tango — becoming one with another soul. But even though Tango Buenos Aires’ dancers were wrapped up in each other, they still drew us into their intensely satisfying experience.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 20, 2010
Review: The Rockettes' 'Radio City Christmas Spectacular'
They’ve got legs, and they know how to use them.
The Rockettes, the iconic precision dance troupe hailing from New York, are currently on tour as part of the ‘Radio City Christmas Spectacular.’ And judging from the applause that rang out in Bass Concert Hall each time the Rockettes formed their signature kick line, Austin audiences are happy to see them.
The ‘Radio City Christmas Spectacular,’ as you might guess from the title, is loaded with Christmas cliches and over-the-top stagecraft, much of it geared toward entertaining children and families. Santa Claus (William Thomas Evans) plays a prominent role, and at the risk of getting a lump of coal in my stocking this year, let’s just say that he is appropriately rotund and jolly.
The Rockettes are a lot of fun and the highlight of the show. Their sharp, strong routines combine the smiling faces and sequined costumes of a beauty pageant, the precision of a military drill team, and the fancy unison footwork of groups like Riverdance. Every time the dancers kick their famous legs and move in harmony, the effect is impressive.
Two numbers stand out. In ‘The Parade of the Wooden Soldiers,’ which has been part of the annual holiday show since 1933, The Rockettes are awesomely controlled as they play wooden soldiers come to life. And in ‘Christmas Dreams,’ they smoothly play shimmering snowflakes dancing in a winter wonderland.
‘Radio City Christmas Spectacular’ makes a dramatic shift at the end, when it brings the nativity story to life. Actors perform in a sumptuous staging of the Biblical tale, complete with live camels and sheep, which elicited gasps from the audience. This living nativity, which has also been part of the show since the 1930s, may be the most theatrical, visually stunning Christmas pageant ever.
Despite attempts to make the show current with jokes about Santa’s cell phone and website, the ‘Radio City Christmas Spectacular’ has a decidedly nostalgic feel. It hearkens back to the lavish stage revues of the early twentieth century, shows like the Ziegfeld Follies, whose lines of dancing girls were the inspiration for The Rockettes. It’s a unique experience to watch a performance that holds traces of history in every high kick.
‘Radio City Christmas Spectacular’ continues through Dec. 26, Tues-Wed at 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m., Thursday at 2 p.m., 5 p.m., and 8 p.m., Friday at 1 p.m., and Sunday at 11 a.m., 2 p.m., 5 p.m., and 8 p.m. Bass Concert Hall, 2350 Robert Dedman Drive. Tickets $25.50-$69.50.’(512) 477- 6060 www.texasperformingarts.org.
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 14, 2010
Review: 'Steel Magnolias'
As any hairdresser can tell you, highlighting is about creating contrast. The bright pieces stand out against the darker background, but each piece flows together, creating a smooth and supple whole.
“Steel Magnolias,” the play by Robert Harling, highlights women’s strength in adversity without resorting to man-bashing. The women are contrasted against each other, and in City Theatre’s production of “Steel Magnolias” playing through this weekend, every one of the women possesses a unique kind of courage, illustrating the power of female love and support.
The action all takes place in Truvy’s (Virginia Pratt) hair salon in Chinquapin, Louisiana, following the lives of six women over a two and a half year period. It opens on the morning before the wedding of the prettiest girl in town, Shelby (Akasha Banks Villalobos), and Truvy has just hired Annelle (Jessica Loyd), a young woman whose husband has deserted her. Shelby’s mother, M’Lynn (Annie Dragoo) and the two town biddies (Ellen Massey and Melita McAtee) round out the scene.
Shelby is a loving and determined young woman, who wants a family more than anything, and neither doctor’s advice nor her diabetic condition will stop her. The show follows Shelby’s marriage, motherhood, and ill health, as it all plays out in the hair salon.
Director Barry Pineo’s handling of the salon atmosphere is convivial, and it’s fun to watch the actresses styling each others’ hair. Pineo’s addition of an opening role call and a character-introduced intermission, however, are unnecessary and distracting. The blocking is similarly awkward and unfortunate. The stage pictures are often crowded with characters all clumped together, or, more distressingly, the actors have their backs to the audience during emotional moments.
The sound design is ineffective and implausible, making it difficult for the actors to build tension around the gunshots and barking dog. Meredith Payne’s lighting is overly dim in the second scene and casts unflattering shadows on the manicure table.
While the actors are working hard to maintain Louisiana accents, this often results in problems with comedic timing, and the emphasis can end up on the wrong word.
As Clairee and Ouiser, however, Ellen Massey and Melita McAtee handle their parts with aplomb, and bring energy and humor to their scenes.
Despite the production’s flaws, “Steel Magnolias” is a touching and sad story that highlights the strength of female solidarity and affection.
‘Steel Magnolias’ continues at 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday and 5:30 p.m. $15-$20. City Theatre, 3823 Airport Blvd. www.citytheatreaustin.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 13, 2010
Review: Texas Early Music Project
Packed tightly under the wood beams of the First English Lutheran Church, the crowd settled in Saturday nigh for the city’s most moving and intriguing holiday commemoration.
Utterly removed from the commercial trappings of modern Christmas, the Texas Early Music Project transports you to a church in ancient Europe, when songs were a more integral part of the season, and caroling with friends more vital than a letter to Santa.
This concert highlighted the traditions of northern Europe, drawing from as far back as the 15th century.
A series of French Noels were an auspicious way to begin. “Noel Nouvelet,” was sublime, with harmonies from Jenifer Thyssen and Meredith Ruduski that had the audience holding its breath in silence.
The Irish traditionals showed just how far back folk songs go, and gave us a chance to brush up on our Irish Gaelic.
The Wexford traditional, “Ye Sons of Men With me Rejoice,” featured the rousing male voices singing a lively carol with excellent unison.
When Scott Horton’s five-foot-tall lute (a theorbo) let out a troubling crack just prior to intermission, the crowd let out a gasp. But the show went on, and later, when Horton was asked to say something about his instrument, he allowed that it was a “Pain in the butt,” to great laughter.
This is part of the appeal of the TEMP. Everything feels handpicked: a select cadre of outstanding singers, visiting soloists who specialize in period instruments and concert notes with lyrics that gently guide you through each song.
The TEMP’s supporters patronize its work because it consistently proves that this “otherworldly” music is also staggeringly beautiful. That reverence for the music and the group’s unpretentiousness quickly envelopes newcomers too.
After intermission, the German carols took over, most notably with the wondrously complex “In Dulci Jubilo,” which united several different versions in a single tune. Beginning with a canon of little imitating verses that swirled amongst each other, the piece then shifted to the whole chorus, tying the tune together.
By the time the crowd was sent off with a plea for God to “send us a merry new yeare,” everyone seemed grateful to have this pleasant interruption from a hectic season.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: Ballet Austin's 'The Nutcracker'
It hit us the day after Thanksgiving — wham! Christmas is here. We see it in storefront windows; we hear it in Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker” score, played on loop since shops opened in the wee hours of the morning Black Friday.
Bunheads know Christmas is here when “The Nutcracker” cast list is posted and rehearsals begin, demanding every spare second of their time. The 118-year-old ballet, with its many character roles, is a natural opportunity for dedicated young dancers to perform in a full-length, professional production. Ballet Austin’s 48th annual “The Nutcracker” at the Long Center is no exception to this rule.
Children from the Ballet Austin Academy fill the supporting roles of Act I’s party scene kids, fight as soldiers against the three-headed Rat King, serve as sweet angels, and dash out from under a 25-foot-tall Mother Ginger’s skirt. Blake Cooper and Caroline Ward, both Academy students, share the coveted role of Clara.
Ballet Austin’s “Nutcracker” is as traditional as can be, minus the fact that the classical choreography is actually Artistic Director Stephen Mills’ work. The music is enjoyed as it should be — live, played by the Austin Symphony Orchestra. Tony Tucci’s lighting makes everything a little more magical. When Clara shrinks to doll size, the Christmas tree growing ever larger behind her, the lighting blinks every color imaginable, and it is as though we are looking at the twinkling bulbs on the tree from much too close.
Tommy Bourgeois’ elegant costume designs are perhaps best exemplified by the first act’s matching boy-girl dolls. In Friday’s performance, Beth Terwilleger, donning red pointe shoes, white face makeup and an emerald-green dress, was wonderfully mechanical. Ian J. Bethany sharply executed a series of jumps and beats with the legs as the doll, then pulled out all the stops as the lead in Act II’s Russian variation.
En route to the Sugar Plum Fairy’s domain, Clara and her Nutcracker Prince are caught in a snow flurry. Mills’ choreography, which calls for concise movement and perfectly placed lines by the snow corps de ballet, mimics the crispness of a snowflake landing on one’s nose. As Snow Queen, Anne Marie Melendez was stiff, a performance that translated to her role as the lead in the Waltz of the Flowers, which calls for a more sumptuous interpretation.
The bouncy Brittany Strickland and Matthew Cotter were a delightful pair in the Spanish variation, while the combination of Mills’ choreography and Kirby Wallis’ supple back in the Arabian number lent a dreamy air to the theater. As Sugar Plum, Aara Krumpe demonstrated her technical prowess, particularly in the solo variation as she stretched the movement like one pulls taffy candy.
We all have our holiday traditions, but those in ballet world — professional and amateur alike — can count the thrill of performance among them.
Ballet Austin’s ‘The Nutcracker’ continues through Dec. 23 at the Long Center. See www.balletaustin.org for ticket information.
Claire Christine Spera is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Tony Spielberg
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December 8, 2010
Review: 'Crumble (Lay Me Down Justin Timberlake)'
When the world around you is crumbling, how do you cope? Do you ignore it, pretend it isn’t happening, look the other way? Do you fantasize about a better world and a better life? Or, do you pick yourself up and try to fix things even when you don’t know how?
In “Crumble (Lay Me Down Justin Timberlake)” by Sheila Callaghan, playing now through Dec. 18 at the Blue Theater, the characters falteringly attempt to come to terms with the detritus of their shattered lives.
One year after the death of the family patriarch last Christmas, nobody is coping very well, and though this family’s holiday may not be jolly, it’s certainly comical (for the audience). At least, in that laugh while you’re cringing sort of way.
Poison Apple Initiative’s production of this poetic and bittersweet black comedy highlights the disconnection between its characters. Taylor Finey’s set design is sparse yet inventive, bringing out the barrenness of the family’s world without laughter.
The design is particularly interesting given that the apartment is also a character in the play. Neglected and literally crumbling, the apartment is fed up with his residents’ indifference and plans to take matters into his own hands.
Though clearly a talented actor, Michael Slefinger (The Apartment) does not manage to infuse his performance with enough tension. We don’t hear sufficient desperation, longing, or menace in his reminiscences and threats.
While the actors tend to shine in their soliloquies (Karen Alvarado handles Callaghan’s poetic language with a lovely range of emotion), they seem to have a hard time connecting as a cast, both vocally and physically. The stage movement is often either wandering or overly static.
For the moments of connection between isolated and lonely characters to have an impact, their relationships and their desperation for contact need to be clearer.
Micah Goodding performs well as Dad, Justin Timberlake, and Harrison Ford, but it doesn’t come across to the audience that the three men are one and the same. Janice and her mother both fantasize about celebrities that are really manifestations of father and husband.
As Janice, the undeniably weird adolescent at the center of the play, Elizabeth Bigger captures the spirit of an isolated little girl with beautiful intensity. She’s also hilariously bizarre while playing with her dolls and building a bomb. When Bigger bids farewell to her room in a final soliloquy, the heartbreaking world of the play finally comes together, and the following explosion doesn’t manage to tear it apart.
“Crumble” continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, through Dec. 18. Blue Theatre, 916 Springdale Road. Tickets $15, Wednesdays actor’s benefit night, Thursdays pay-what-you-can. poisonappleinitiative.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: Conspirare's 'Christmas at the Carillon'
Framed between two Christmas trees, Craig Hella Johnson and Conspirare brought their diverse sensibilities to their holiday concert on the Long Center’s main stage.
For all the decking of the hall — including colorful shawls for the women and a flock of poinsettias — the program was not festive in the strictly traditional sense. Integrating modern pop music with standards and traditionals, this year Conspirare’s choices trended toward the bittersweet.
Joining the chorus on stage were Patrice Pike, the Austin singer/songwriter, and percussionist Thomas Burritt. Pike, in a red pea coat, was the evening’s standout. She has instinctive stage presence and voice that effortlessly projects emotion.
At times the arrangements felt a little light on counterpoint, but backing up Pike, the choir’s effect was moving. Burritt’s marimba was a soft touch, but had moments that were mesmerizing.
The Christmas season isn’t all reindeer and bows, and this year’s concert made room to consider the melancholy that sometimes arrives with the year’s end. Both lyrically and in a host of quiet, spare arrangements, Conspirare and company were in a reflective mood.
A number of the selections in the collage, like Annie Lennox’s “Why,” and Coldplay’s “The Scientist,” effectively reflected on regret and the end of a relationship. Many delicate tunes featured just a solo or a small group of voices accompanying the piano.
On occasion, then, it was a relief to have the contemplative mood broken with the chorus at its full volume and energy.
The choir was joyous in its “Jubilate Deo,” and shined in more formal works, like “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” and an extended and beautiful “Kyrie.”
The Old Crow Medicine Show’s country tune “Take ‘em Away,” brought a lightness and laughter from the crowd.
The delivery and lyrics (“Every year I just keep getting deeper in debt”) struck a chord, and reminded us that even calamity can be cathartic at Christmas.
Although some tunes felt overly sincere— as when the entire company turned to the audience to sing “True Colors” — these were in the minority. Pike’s original songs and her moving take on pop tunes helped steer mostly clear of treacle.
Even away from the church acoustics, the crowd was rewarded with powerful singing and a breathless, moving reverence for secular and spiritual songs.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 7, 2010
Review: "So Much To Go Crazy (The Show Might Go On)"
By definition, an experiment means that you don’t necessarily know the outcome of an action or event. In theater, it usually means you’re trying something new with your audiences. Given that they don’t actually know how their play ends, Sibyl Kempson and Mike Iveson, Jr. took this to a whole new level in their delightfully quirky theatrical experiment, “So Much To Go Crazy (The Show Might Go On).” But they proved to Austin audiences at the Off Center last weekend that sometimes it’s great to be the guinea pig.
Invited to Austin as part of the Fusebox Festival’s Pre-Wire series, the New York-based artists were delighted at the invitation but didn’t have a new work to bring. So, Kempson explained in a radio interview with Ron Berry (artisitc director of Fusebox), they put together a performance of disconnected side projects - some Brahms leider (German songs about love and death), videos of Iveson and Kempson touching things like magazines and shopping carts, and Kempson’s translation of Norwegian novelist Knut Hamsun’s play, “At The Kingdom’s Gate, Prelude.”
If pressed to pin down what the resulting mishmash was about, I’d have to say “foreignness.” The songs were sung in German, the videos (reminiscent of the film “American Beauty”) made the objects seem foreign, and the play, well, it wasn’t your run-of-the mill translation.
Kempson discovered the turn-of-the-century Norwegian play while she was in graduate school, but couldn’t find an English translation. So like any true theater devotee, she went ahead and took a class in Norwegian… only to discover three months into it that the play is actually written in Danish. But that didn’t stop her.
For about six years, Kempson has been translating the play one word at a time using a Danish to English dictionary whenever she has time - “kind of like knitting a sweater,” as she put it. So far, she’s covered about 150 pages of the 300-page play, and we got to see roughly 40 pages performed in “So Much To Go Crazy.”
What made this particularly fascinating, disconcerting and experimental is that Kempson has retained the original syntax. Explain myself let me. With most translations, the foreignness disappears. Colloquialisms and figures of speech are changed to match our (American) meanings.
In this performance, Danish is transformed into English instead of just translated. Difficult to memorize, and at times difficult to follow, the performance makes you think about the way language is put together and the gaps in translation. And delightful absolutely is it.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 6, 2010
Review: 'Here.Me.Now.'
What is the power of human touch and connection? What does it mean to be an individual?
These huge questions are explored both seriously and playfully through the twists and turns of modern dance in “Here.Me.Now.” a new production from the Kathy Dunn Hamrick Dance Company currently running at Salvage Vanguard Theater.
Set and lighting designer Stephen Pruitt has transformed the intimate space into a blank canvas — literally. The theater is filled with rectangular and square frames overlay with neutral burlap, a visually pleasing but enigmatic backdrop.
The elegantly expressive Erica Santiago dances into this space with ease and comfort, making eye contact with the audience as if to invite us in. Other dancers enter, dressed identically in pairs of blue-green pants and maroon tops, and a series of movement vignettes play out, with dancers connecting and disconnecting from each other in different combinations. An evocative soundtrack by Austin-based instrumental group Balmorhea underscores the show.
“Here.Me.Now.” features choreography by Hamrick and the powerful dancers in the ensemble. The dynamic shifts frequently (and satisfyingly) between sustained, elegant motion and bursts of energy and lightness. Many of the performances are infused with underlying emotions, as the dancers alternate between longing, confusion, and joy.
In the show’s most engaging section, dancers connect in weight-sharing duets. The physical touch seems to energize and lift them, their faces lighting up. A brief but dynamic duet between the two male dancers, Dane Burch and Ryan Parent, reveals their agility and strength.
“Here.Me.Now” loses momentum a bit toward the end, as it builds toward moments that seem like endings but aren’t. Still, in the second half a loose (but open to interpretation) storyline has emerged.
The dancers trade in their identical tops for new ones in a range of bold colors, marking them as individuals rather than the group they were before. At the same time, they take visible pleasure in embraces and small physical gestures of support, seeming to suggest the importance of creating connections between individual, and constantly in motion, lives.
“Here.Me.Now.” continues 8 p.m. Dec. 9-11 at Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. Tickets $12-15. 512-934-1082. www.kdhdance.com
Claire Cananvan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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December 3, 2010
UT Symphony Orchestra review
The University of Texas Symphony Orchestra put two influential teachers on stage Wednesday night, as it welcomed Carl St. Clair as guest conductor and Brian Lewis on violin.
St. Clair, originally from Hochheim, Texas, is a gracious and energetic UT graduate who later became a direct disciple of Leonard Bernstein. He has led the Pacific Symphony, in California, for the past two decades, and recently left a Berlin opera company known for experimental productions, after artistic differences.
The hometown crowd was receptive. St. Clair took the stage with Lewis, UT Professor of Violin, who greeted Concertmaster Soo-Jin Nam with a friendly elbow bump before tackling Max Bruch’s demanding “Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor.”
Bruch, the program reminded us, was an “acerbic” composer whose principal contribution was this stunning piece, his first attempt at a violin concerto.
With a large vibrato, Lewis’ tone sang beautifully through the work, projecting nicely above the orchestra. The left-handed contortions that Bruch called for were entirely under Lewis’ control, with high trills and, on occasion, violent, crunchy chords.
Lewis’ onstage movements are slightly squared, as if he’s playing in an invisible box, but it gave a sense of efficiency, not constraint. Indeed, the renowned educator sang through the work’s complexities.
The Sergei Prokofiev “Symphony No. 5, Op. 100” is a captivating work with a wintry feel. Cold and snow too often come to mind around Russian composers, perhaps, but as haunting and isolated tunes crash against big marching themes, the impression of Moscow’s snow and storms remains.
The brass sounded clear, and the tutti entrance in the first movement was strong and nicely unified. The tempo in the Allegro Marcato was quick enough to keep the frenetic tune engaged.
St. Clair was active on stage, his silvery hair bouncing along with him. Under his direction the orchestra had outstanding energy and a warm sound. The frantic finale especially had a thunderous ending that felt potent.
Afterward, St. Clair was presented with a distinguished alumnus plaque and spoke gratefully of his time at the university. “The last thing I did here was 36 years ago,” he said. Let us hope next visit comes much sooner.
Permalink | | Categories: Luke Quinton, Music, Reviews
December 1, 2010
Review: 'The Trip to Bountiful'
There’s a lot to be said for putting down roots — stability, growth, a sense of community. And in Texas farm country, where a family’s history is tied to the land, uprooting can be nigh impossible.
Horton Foote was a Texas playwright who understood people’s attachment to the place they call home. And while home may be where the heart is, Austin Playhouse’s current production of “The Trip to Bountiful” showing now through Dec. 1, demonstrates that the heart doesn’t always travel well.
“Bountiful” revolves around Carrie “Mother” Watts (Mary Agen Cox), an aging pensioner living with her son and daughter-in-law in a small apartment in 1950s Houston. The close quarters are driving everyone crazy, and Carrie’s heart is cause for concern.
Carrie knows the end is near, and she desperately wants to get back to her home-town of Bountiful, Texas, before she dies. But her well-meaning son, Ludie (Brian Coughlin), and his shrewish wife, Jessie Mae (Amy Kay Raymond), think they know what’s best - and that involves staying put.
Though written well before Lifetime movies became popular, “Trip to Bountiful” is propelled more by emotions than actions. Mary Agen Cox carries the show, guilelessly inducing our compassion. Her touching performance is likely to leave even the coldest heart at least a little ferklempt.
Henpecked and struggling with defeat, Brian Coughlin gives a solid performance as Ludie — struggling to stifle his emotions with true 1950s machismo. However, director Don Toner made an odd casting choice here since Coughlin’s burly frame belies the debilitating illness Ludie suffers prior to the opening of the play.
Even the small details (like the wrong build for one character or too much blush on another) can have a significant impact on a play. Costume designer Buffy Manners’ choices were largely appropriate, but Amy Kay Raymond’s over-sized and anachronistic shoes stick out like a sore thumb — both distracting from and impeding Raymond’s performance as she clunks around for half the play.
Raymond’s portrayal of Ludie’s wife, Jessie Mae, makes it crystal clear why Carrie needs to get out of the house. The performance is flat, making the barren housewife into a callous and self-absorbed harridan. Jessie Mae treats her mother-in-law like the child she doesn’t have, and the script offers more opportunity for sympathy than Raymond manages to garner.
But we do care about Carrie, and so “The Trip to Bountiful” is ultimately a tender play with a bittersweet ending that will touch your heart without warming it.
8 p.m. Thursdays - Saturdays at 8pm, 5 p.m. Sundays through December 18. Austin Playhouse, Penn Field, 3601 S. Congress Ave. $26-$28. www.austinplayhouse.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
November 22, 2010
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra and Francisco Ladron de Guevara-Finck
It’s sad that Aaron Copland is probably the best known composer of Mexican orchestral music. “El Salon Mexico,” written in the 1930s, combined folk rhythms with a wickedly catchy melody, but it persists after 80 years.
So, it was a revelation to hear the Austin Symphony Orchestra and conductor Peter Bay tackle the darker and more daring depths of Mexican symphonic work.
Galindo’s “Sones de Mariachi,” is a single movement that whirls through mariachi tunes, with an off-beat so prominent it practically becomes the beat. It’s fun music to watch, because it breaks some instruments out of their shell: take the cellos, who become guitarrons, strumming along without bows.
But none of these folk tunes lack precision. On the contrary, Galindo, who studied under Copland, was equally enamored with difficult and mercurial time signatures. And for Manuel Ponce’s “Violin Concerto,” the complexity increased.
Dressed all in black, with a flowing dress shirt and chin-length hair, soloist Francisco Ladron de Guevara-Finck cast a moody and modest presence. This lifted as soon as his bow touched the strings — he has a sweet tone that’s almost bird-like.
The Ponce concerto seemed a tough sell on the audience though, and that’s understandable. The orchestra and soloist have beautiful melodies, yet they never seem to intersect. The entire work was written at an interval that’s almost grating to the ear.
Luckily, long and gorgeous cadenzas and triumphant endings of movements got the crowd excited.
After intermission, the spirit picked up again with the cinematic “Suite from ‘Redes,’ ” by Silvestre Revueltas, a Mexican composer with an Austin connection: he attended St. Ed’s from 1916-18.
And we ought to claim him as one of our own. The two movements are miniature epics, recalling Hollywood’s golden age and foreshadowing the ghostly scores of westerns to come.
“Redes” was a lot of work for the brass, who did good work setting the mood with shrill themes. Still, it was welcome to return to hummable and danceable themes with Marquez’s “Danzon No. 2.” and “Huapango” by Moncayo.
The percussion was kept busy all night, with precise work on bass drum and timpani, as well as a variety of blocks and shakers.
The concert was perhaps a touch more challenging than expected; less folky, more abrasive. But bravo to the ASO for keeping the crowd on its heels. With an amazing variety of motifs and unusual orchestrations, there were enough moments of brilliance to keep everyone entertained.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 19, 2010
Review: The Miro Quartet
The Miro Quartet is always worth watching. On Thursday night at Bates Recital Hall a healthy audience fought the chaos of parking, but were rewarded with the chaos and serenity of Beethoven.
This is Miro’s second concert in a series that will stretch over the next six years as they tackle all of Beethoven’s 18 string quartets.
A concert featuring a single composer can be draining. The tendency is for the listener to take sides, comparing one piece to the other, and there’s rarely an effective musical palate cleanser. This wasn’t quite the case, until the finale of “Op. 130,” which became a little long.
This was a long work by Beethoven, with five movements already. So when he wrote “Grosse Fuge,” a 20 minute work, as its sixth section, his publishers chopped it, and he wrote a shorter end piece.
At the end of a long concert, it seemed they had a point. Length aside, “Grosse Fuge” is an ungainly dance, and though entertaining, it was a harsh blow after “Cavatina,” the delicate fifth movement. Daniel Ching’s violin gorgeously rendered the theme, with sul tasto bowing (near the fingerboard) whose tone was impossibly beautiful and served as the evening’s highlight.
Indeed, set between dark, but sublime chords one one side, and a long rock opera on the other, Ching’s embodiment of serenity was a powerful reminder of Beethoven’s capacity for beauty and discordance. It can be a sort of bitter medicine, but Miro’s selections had effectively pulled us between light and dark all night.
In the opening piece, “Op. 14, No.1,” the fun and bright work often felt danceable, even as the winding violin parts land at a dozen false endings. This must have been high humor back in the day, and the conceit works still.
The “Op. 95” (or “Serioso,”) brought out a mania that recalls Napoleon’s rise to power, which Beethoven viewed as betrayal. It veers from much of his work, balancing bursts of passion with dissonant asides.
And “Serioso” especially brought the Miro’s strengths to light: gentle, pitch-perfect harmonies, enviable tone and brilliant balance, especially from Ching, whose violin seems always to be at the right volume.
Josh Gindele’s cello often felt like the quartet’s nimble fulcrum, which allowed for wonderful interplay between the instruments.
The encore was a graceful version of the Lento Assai from “Op. 135,” leaving an audience satisfied enough to overcome the frustration of any exorbitant parking tickets.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 17, 2010
Review: 'Baal'
Bertolt Brecht’s theater is designed to alienate, to de-familiarize, to distance. He doesn’t want you to care deeply for his characters, or to forget that you’re watching a play. So, even though “Baal,” Brecht’s first play, was written well before his philosophy of theater fully developed, you still won’t do either.
In the 23 scenes of “Baal,” showing now through Nov. 28 at Salvage Vanguard Theater, you’ll remember that you’re in a theater. With costume racks and light fixtures prominently displayed, you get to see the inner workings of the stage, and everything about the production is lovely to look at.
The second production of this burgeoning company, Paper Chair’s “Baal” is unquestionably gorgeous. Benjamin Taylor Ridgway’s eclectic costumes are delightfully playful and visually exciting. Lisa Laratta’s evocative scenic design is brilliantly paired with Natalie George’s lights. Director Dustin Wills brings together a top-notch design team, combines it with some of Austin’s finest actors, and the result is a truly stunning spectacle.
And yet, pardon my mixing of aphorisms, but in the eye of the beholder, beauty is only skin deep. It doesn’t matter what the surface looks like if something’s rotten underneath.
“Baal” is an ugly play. It consists of an erratic plot line, an incredibly unsympathetic main character, and three hours of overly philosophical script.
Essentially, Baal, a sort of demented Don Juan who doesn’t even take pleasure in his spoils, seduces woman after woman, tossing them aside like empty candy wrappers as soon as he’s finished. Then he kills his best friend, is chased by the police, and eventually gets around to dying alone in the woods. Much to our relief.
While I know that women are supposed to fall over backwards for poets, Gabriel Luna’s valiant efforts as Baal couldn’t convince me that the character was worth all the swooning. Though his steamy scene in the second half with co-star Joey Hood (as Ekart) did come close, the feeling evaporated quickly.
Most of the time anti-heroes have at least one redeeming quality, even if it’s just being witty. Baal, however, isn’t funny and is only occasionally profound. Mostly, he’s emotionally manipulative, exploits or betrays every friend he ever has, abuses pregnant women, and never displays even a glimmer of guilt or remorse.
I shudder to think what this play would have looked like outside the capable hands of Dustin Wills. While the unquestionably talented director clearly enjoys a challenge, it remains to be seen whether audiences will too.
“Baal’ continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Sundays through Nov. 28 at Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. $15 general seating, $30.00 table seating (with complimentary bottle of gin). www.paperchairs.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 15, 2010
Review: 'Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?'
Be it a credit card bill or an old tee shirt, ripping things to shreds is just plain satisfying. It feels good to tear things apart, and although in the twenty-first century we might prefer to watch people hacked to pieces with words instead of weapons, the spectacle has kept us entertained since ancient Rome.
In Edward Albee’s masterpiece, “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf,” the characters dive headfirst into confrontation, pulling no punches and sparing no feelings. They claw into each other, often going straight for the jugular.
A play of juxtapositions and paradoxes, “Who’s Afraid” is a battleground for the clash between ambition and disillusionment, innocence and experience. And in the production playing at St. Edward’s University through Nov. 21, the contrasts continue across the stage — two students play against seasoned stage veterans.
As George and Martha, the charismatic and vitriolic couple at the center of the play, Ev Lunning Jr. and Babs George deliver powerful performances.
Babs George’s Martha has the savage tenderness of a lioness, lashing out with love and hate at once. Lunning’s George is petulant and defeated early on, evolving into a resigned and sorrowful triumph.
The couple’s combat is filled with peaks and valleys, exploding erratically instead of building to a final meltdown. By the third act (there are two intermissions in this three-hour saga), the energy wanes, and the finale is less climactic than the set-up of the second act.
As Nick, St. Edward’s senior Kel Sanders manages to be smarmy without being snide, which leaves the ambitious young professor insufficiently angry, arrogant, or alpha. Without the clarity of these motives, we spend the play wondering why he remains through all the abuse. The tension dissolves, and instead of struggling, Nick simply sinks into his role as houseboy.
Meredith Montgomery has some lovely moments as Honey, with all the bright-eyed bewilderment the role demands. Yet Honey isn’t as vapid as everyone assumes, and Montgomery doesn’t give the character enough credit.
In such an intimate play, setting students against Equity actors has its drawbacks. It calls attention to the disparity in experience, overshadowing nascent talents. But in this play, it almost makes sense. The young couple is no match for the experienced sparring partners.
The production is solid, however, and worth seeing. Jen J. Madison’s costumes and Leilah Stewart’s set are beautifully complementary, effectively capturing the world of these stifled 1960s characters. The use of the space is excellent, and the spectacle of verbal violence will leave you wondering what it really means to love and be loved. ‘Who’s Afraid of Virigina Woolf?’ continues 7:30 p.m. Nov. 17-20, 2 p.m. Nov. 21.Mary Moody Northen Theatre, St. Edward’s University, 3001 S. Congress Ave. $12-$18. 448-8484.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'Fight'
It’s not every day that people who love theatre and people who love boxing would jump at the chance to attend the same event.
But “Fight,” a world premiere play by University of Texas graduate student Kimber Lee, should be able to draw both crowds by combining a classic story of a young woman trying to find her place in the world with a live three-round boxing match that has plenty of actual punches.
“Fight,” directed by Lee and Charles Otte and produced by UT’s Department of Theatre and Dance, is at heart the story of an underdog.
Dani (Christen Perez) is adrift. Abandoned by her mother, she is taken in by her fast-talking, exuberant aunt, Tia (a lively Jaclyn Benavidez), and her estranged father (Chris Rangel) who used to be a boxer.
She wanders into her father’s old boxing gym and meets a no-nonsense coach named Papi (an excellent and convincing Aaron Alexander) and a fellow fighter James (Matrex Kilgore). Dani isn’t entirely sure why she’s there and her attempts at training are half-hearted. You don’t mess around in Papi’s gym, though, and soon he gets the normally reserved Dani to explode with her real reason for wanting to fight.
The boxer-in-training storyline is familiar territory (especially in the cinema), and some of “Fight’s” best moments are when it embraces the fact that, unlike in a movie, the performers are live, and so is all the action.
When a group of young boxers trains at the gym, we can hear their fists slamming into their targets and see the sweat beads forming on their foreheads. When Dani steps into the ring for her first match with rival boxer Alicia (Megan McQuaid), the unpredictability and sense of danger in the live fight is exciting.
Like any new play, “Fight” still has some kinks to work out. But underneath all the old boxing clichss, “Fight” has a contemporary energy, a sense of theatrical freshness.
It’s not the expected story about a female boxer trying to make it in a male-dominated sport, but instead the story of a woman trying to overcome the hurts of her past by finding something in her life that’s worth fighting for.
“Fight” continues 8 p.m. Nov. 17-19 at 8:00 p.m., 2 p.m. Nov. 21, Brockett Theatre, Winship Building, 300 E. 23rd Street. $15-$20. www.texasperformingarts.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman arts freelancer.
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November 10, 2010
Review: Austin Lyric Opera's 'La Traviata'
Austin Lyric Opera went for lush and classic to mark the opening its 24th season Saturday night at the Long Center with its production of ‘La Traviata.’
Opulent sets and costumes, a passionately conducted score and solid performances from the singers marked the robust performance.
Tenor Chad Shelton pleased last season as the Duke of Manua in ALO’s ‘Rigoletto.’ Now, as Alfredo, he brought a rich, resonant tone that was nevertheless nicely uncomplicated. Likewise he infused a good deal of realistic energy into the role of the besotted lover, a nice counterbalance to Verdi’s melodrama.
As the doomed courtesan Violetta, soprano Pamela Armstrong delivered plenty of heart-tugging pathos especially on her arias ‘Ah! for’ lui” and ‘Addio del passato,’ her voice creamy and lyric, yet very well articulated.
Germont, Baritone Grant Youngblood, as Angelo’s misguided father, gave both an expressive and authoritative portrayal.
Desmond Heeley’s sumptuous Victorian interiors and costumes, from Lyric Opera of Chicago, lent an elegance while Christine Binder’s dramatic lighting seemed to emphasize the emotional tone of each scene, again a nice counterpoint to the sentimentality of this favorite tragic chestnut of an opera.
Stage director Garnett Bruce centered the dramatic attention on the principals, which left the chorus adrift though the polished singing made up for it.
In the end, what made this a compelling ‘Traviata’ was the conducting of music director Richard Buckley. Buckley excluded the usual sentimentality of most Traviata interpretations and instead, offered a more delicate, nuanced sound that was therefore more emotionally urgent and credible.
‘La Traviata’ continues 7:30 p.m. Nov. 10, 12 and 3 p.m. Nov. 14. www.austinlyricopera.org.
Photo by Mark Matson for ALO.
November 9, 2010
Review: Bill Frisell at One World Theater
Bill Frisell plays guitar like a professor giving a lecture. Backed on Sunday by Eyvind Kang on viola and Rudy Royston on drum kit, Frisell dispersed little truths with each sentence, showcasing a staggering range of knowledge from the stage of One World Theater.
A few sparse, scattered notes fell around the audience at first, echoing in reverb from Kang’s viola, as if the group was gingerly feeling its way into a cold pool. Things quickly heated up with a ten minute jam that cycled through samples of near-every musical touchstone Frisell cares about: southern rock, bluegrass, blues, hip-hop, reggae, Americana, and a paint-peeling rock solo drenching in distortion.
By the time the trio dissolved back into abstraction, we’d heard a survey of what makes Frisell so vital.
This iteration of Frisell’s band, the Beautiful Dreamers, was a small package of compact oddities. Royston’s drums were tight and sharp, but quickly brought raucous hard rock pounding, as required. Even more entertaining were the little adventures of Kang’s viola.
Using octave pedals to compensate for a lack of bass, Kang and Frisell shared a psychic instinct to play tight, creeping themes in unison. Kang also favored small glissandos that brought a vaguely Asian theme, bouncing them off pretty solos.
Kang’s position as de facto bassist worked better than might be expected, with his instinct for intriguing little background beats and drone. But his two-fingered plucking, a cross between a fast bass line and a trill, inspired awe.
Then there’s the masterful right hand of Frisell. His clean guitar sound may be his calling card — with discordant harmonies that have won over his cult of fans — but what you see live is the delicate finger-picking and strumming that happens simultaneously, a thumb to play the bass line or melody and a ring finger to play harmony.
What really strikes you is how effortless it all seems. But, come to think about it, Frisell (and his band) are at ease with something incredibly hard: never-ending experiments in treating Americana with both reverence and a sense of humor.
You needn’t recognize the bars of the Doors’ “Light my Fire,” to enjoy the band’s deconstruction of its chords and melodies, but it’s fun to catch it.
The sheer breadth of his musical ideas is what stays with you. From favorites like the quiet, funky “Winslow Homer,” to his hummable take on “Goin’ out of my Head,” the professor still has much to investigate, and much to teach.
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Review: Austin Chamber Ensemble
It was nice to see Jessica Mathaes, the Austin Symphony’s Concertmaster, get to own the spotlight for the opening show of the Austin Chamber Ensemble’s 30th season.
Playing alongside Colette Valentine, the stunning and unflappable Austin pianist, Mathaes ventured through music of great virtuosity, as well as a difficult new work by Los Angeles composer Paul Reale.
On Friday at Westlake United Methodist Church, with its handsome space of thick wooden beamed ceilings, the pews were only sparsely occupied. This was a shame, because the duo chose works from among the most challenging in violin repertoire.
Giuseppe Tartini’s “Devil’s Trill” is a showpiece the artist wrote to try and replicate a tune the devil played in his dream. It starts with difficult chords and double stops, a swaying lullaby, until exploding with quick, challenging passages, loaded with, well, trills.
Mathaes, in a black A-line dress with bright pink roses, handled the work well. After a tentative start, her chords carried nicely, and her tone sang.
Paul Reale’s “Seven Deadly Sins,” was a more acquired taste. Seven short movements of two or three minutes apiece, Reale’s work tries to give each sin a distinct character, with both light and dark sides.
“Anger” contrasted moments of uneasy calm with pretty bursts, while “Gluttony” used glissandos up and down the violin that resemble swirling wine or food in the belly. The most interesting of these was “Envy,” with pizzicato that had a beautiful but serious air of mocking.
Ultimately, pieces of each section were interesting, but the work as a whole was draining. There was simply too much counterpoint — a glut of independent playing that rarely aligned.
Saint-Saens’ “Sonata No. 1 in D minor,” however, was reason enough to be in attendance. Valentine’s piano shined with little waves that recalled Debussy, and Mathaes’ tuning in the upper register was immaculate.
The Saint-Saens is a moody, beautiful work. With fast, detailed passages that are challenging for its players, and rewarding for its listeners.
The duo returned for an encore of a Henri Vieuxtemps’ variations on “Yankee Doodle,” the teasing, playful, and entirely more demanding, riff on the traditional. Mathaes played dazzling harmonics and a left-handed pizzicato that put the cap on a evening of playing that was engaging and exacting.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 8, 2010
Review: 'At Home at the Zoo'
While one plus one equals two in arithmetic, this isn’t the case for people. Our eternal existential conundrum is that we can never get outside our own heads. We can’t ever know what those around us are thinking, feeling, seeking.
Palindrome Theatre’s production of “At Home at the Zoo” by Edward Albee, playing now through November 21st at the Off Center, is a stunning illustration of loneliness and isolation, of the yearning for contact with another being regardless of whether it brings pleasure or pain.
The show is a combination of Albee’s foundational “Zoo Story” (his first play, written in 1958) and a companion prequel, “Homelife,” written in 2004. “Homelife” explores the dysfunctional relationship of humdrum publishing executive, Peter (Jude Hickey), and his wife, Ann (Robin Grace Thompson), prior to Peter’s harrowing encounter with Jerry (Nigel O’Hearn), the down and out drifter of “Zoo Story.”
The script of “Homelife” demands extreme subtlety, asking the actors to do a double performance — the facade they show their spouse layered over the inner life of the character — and the audience needs to see the cracks to understand the relationship. Thompson’s smiling and Hickey’s indifference don’t effectively convey what’s going on inside. Though they keep our attention and ultimately earn our sympathy, for most of the piece we’re kept in suspense. Like the characters themselves, we wait for something to happen, to be explained.
In “Zoo Story,” however, Nigel O’Hearn’s gorgeously nuanced performance is imbued with the infinite sadness of the misunderstood, simultaneously terrifying and tragic. Utterly captivating, O’Hearn proves the lasting power of this bona fide piece of theater history. We just have to wait for the second half to see it.
Albee forbids solitary productions of “Zoo Story,” and it’s too bad, since the glaring gap between when the two pieces were written does a disservice to both. Shocking language is only effective if it fits its time period, and the “queer” of 1958 is flimsy compared to the F-bombs of 2004 - especially since director Austin Sheffeild doesn’t seem to have made up his mind about when this production is set.
The third production for this up and coming company, “At Home at the Zoo” delivers precisely what Palindrome Theatre promises - an intimate, human, and fallible performance of a canonical piece of modernist theater. Beyond all else, it shows us our desperate need to feel connected, to touch and be touched - by a person or, in this case, by a play.
‘At Home at the Zoo,’ continues 8 p.m. Thursday-Sunday at The Off Center, 2211 Hidalgo St. Community nights 8 p.m. Nov. 15-16. www.palindrometheatre.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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November 4, 2010
Review: 'Shrek the Musical.'
These days it’s pretty common for us to see things moving across media - movies become miniseries, and books become blockbusters. But this week, Broadway Across America is here to prove that James Cameron isn’t the only one bringing big colorful creatures to life.
It’s not often you get to see a play that looks more like a cartoon than real life, and “Shrek: The Musical” is one of those spectacular theatrical events that you have to see to believe. With performances at the Bass Concert Hall through Nov. 7 this is serious Broadway theater: big budget and plenty of pizzazz.
The costumes have an uncanny cartoon quality. Pinocchio (Blakely Slaybaugh) looks like a living puppet, the Duloc dancers look plastic, and Shrek (Eric Petersen) is as ogre-ish as it gets.
The fabulously flashy Lord Farquad (David F.M. Vaughn), though, takes the cake and the kingdom when it comes to costumes and character. Vaughn is delightfully diabolical, and the creative choreography in Duloc is guaranteed to entertain audiences of all ages.
Despite some added back-story of parental abandonment, the show stays close to the original DreamWorks plot. Like the movie, the show has moments of more adult humor, but nothing excessive. It’s a rare instance of entertainment that will charm you just as much as your children.
The costumes alone are worth the cost of tickets, so the sensational set design and stage business are just added bonuses. Manned by four performers dressed in black, the Dragon comes alive in unanticipated glory, and there’s a sequence involving tap-dancing rats that will utterly delight.
Perhaps the most stunning moment, however, is Princess Fiona’s (Haven Burton) transformation from princess to ogre at the end of the show. This particular piece of theatrical magic will seriously take your breath away.
While most musicals are driven more by the songs than the plot, “Shrek: The Musical” relies on our love of the great green ogre. The singing in the show is strong, but it’s the story, not the songs, at the heart of this performance.
“Shrek” is a love story about sharing things in common instead of looking for Prince Charming or Prince Handsome. It teaches us that it’s okay to be different, and that anyone can find love, even in the unlikeliest of places.
‘Shrek the Musical’ continues through Nov. 7.Bass Concert Hall, UT campus, 2350 Robert Dedman Drive. $23-$64. Note: Every person entering the theater must purchase a ticket including young children and infants. www.texasperformingarts.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
See a video of the backstage make-up process for ‘Shrek the Musical.’
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November 2, 2010
Review: "The Other Side of Sleep"
From Austin to Las Vegas, waffle houses to alligator farms, Owen Egerton covers a lot of ground in his delightful one-man show, “The Other Side Of Sleep,” playing now through Nov. 6 on Zach Theater’s Whisenhunt Stage.
Written and performed by Egerton, the show is a free-spirited frolic through the irrational anxieties, overwhelming emotions, and hilarious high jinks of the sleep-deprived. Through a series of scenes and monologues interwoven with video footage, Egerton single-handedly takes on dozens of roles and his exuberance bubbles out into the audience.
The vignettes cover a broad range of topics and deal with some serious subjects in spite of the lighthearted and occasionally ludicrous settings. As a closeted youth group leader, Egerton admonishes teenagers for exploiting their bodies, pointing out that “Jesus wouldn’t have used Axe body spray.”
As a Bulgarian truck driver, he tells us that, “everything in America is trying too hard,” and at times, Egerton is guilty of this himself. The show loses momentum in places, first inside a waffle house and then inside a tent. However, the performer’s talent carries the show and moments of lassitude are counterbalanced by hilarity: a rough and tumble fight between two teenage Star Wars fans, and an improvised lounge act that is guaranteed to make you giggle.
Egerton’s semi-autobiographical show invites us to have sympathy for the lonely and the misunderstood. While some of these characters are more silly than others (the lounge singer and fearful fiance especially), the show traces a nice range of sensitivity and compassion.
In “Love, Beauty, and Alligators” Egerton paints a poignant picture from the inside of a cult, and while it may seem odd, this was the most touching moment in the play.
“The Other Side of Sleep” gives us a glimpse of the other side of people, insight into the thoughts of those we would otherwise overlook. It shows us the difference between simply not sleeping and actually staying awake to the world around us.
“The Other Side of Sleep” continues at 8 p.m. Thursday - Saturday at Whisenhunt Stage, Zach Theatre. $24. www.zachtheatre.org/show/other-side-of-sleep
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 25, 2010
Review: Academy of St. Martin's in the Field with Jonathan Biss
It’s common to play Mozart’s music like the work of a child-savant, treating his long runs like whimsical math puzzles. But Friday at UT’s Bass Concert Hall, pianist Jonathan Biss took a different direction, toying with Mozart’s most mature, most un-romantic musical ideas. The results were spectacular.
Most in attendance had probably come to see their CD collection come to life, drawn by the chamber orchestra from London’s Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. So it was perhaps a surprise that pianist Jonathan Biss left a greater impression.
Just 30 years old, Biss appeared sans tuxedo tails, in the understated suit and tie of a jazz man. And he followed with a like-minded approach: humble but urbane, and very astute.
“Jeunehomme” (“Piano Concerto No. 9”) showed an intellectual, stylish Mozart, as Biss toyed with the composer’s musical ideas, and with the piano’s conversation with the orchestra.
Near the end of one cadenza, he played what sounded like a blues bass riff. It happened, and then it was gone, on to explore Mozart’s next thought.
His interpretations were full of little teases and pauses. Compared with most interpretations, Biss’ rising and falling notes felt more sustained and less flighty; more muscular and less whimsical.
It was like we were watching the pianist work in his study late at night, a feeling enhanced by the period positioning of the pianist, with his back to the audience.
Biss seemed slightly awkward, “conducting” from the piano, especially for a group that more or less directs itself.
But St. Martin’s are entertaining and spirited, with lively interpretations and an jovial sense of humor.
If they’re not always very delicate, they certainly make up for it with persuasive dynamics and movement. Besides, it’s fun to watch a violinist conduct from his chair, using raised eyebrows, nods and movements of his head.
At times during “Symphony No. 29,” the bass and cellos were hard to hear, and during the opener, the second violins suffered the same fate.
But the orchestra often does outstanding work, as with its shimmering scales in the finale’s fourth movement.
And the crowd was quite pleased, goading St. Martin’s into a brief encore, though a brief word from St. Martin’s would not have gone astray, considering it was the opening night of this small tour.
An all-Mozart concert is not usually the most enthralling program. Too many interpreters make everything Mozart ever composed resemble a frolic through the fields. But Biss’ playing may well do for Mozart what Glenn Gould did for Bach, and watching that was a thrill.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'Hamlet'
Performing Shakespeare out of doors brings the text to life - even when it starts with the appearance of a ghost in a local graveyard.
Black Swan Event’s production of “Hamlet,” running now through Nov. 6., is set under an ancient, moss-encrusted oak tree in the Boggy Creek Cemetery. The spooky surroundings invigorate this remount of the production they staged in the Scottish Rite Theater last month.
Torchlight, moonbeams, and encroaching darkness add an eerie intimacy to the play that a theater just can’t accommodate. It also makes the opening a lot more believable since the watch really can’t see one another.
The surroundings aren’t the only thing that’s changed, however. With a new Gertrude and Claudius (Ashley Edwards and director Andrew Matthews), the updates make for a very different family dynamic.
Matthews’ Claudius is youthful and vigorous, and a smaller age gap between the conniving king and the disconsolate prince (Justin Scalise) adds some interesting layers to the familial discomfort. Matthews’ portrayal is nuanced and effective, though he humanizes Claudius so much that we almost want to see him win.
This is only a problem if Hamlet fails to retain our sympathy. Scalise’s Hamlet is a delight to watch even when he isn’t speaking, and his facial expressivity shines in the quieter scenes.
As Ophelia, Julia Lorenz-Olsen brings an energy that infects the actors around her. Lorenz-Olsen’s first scene with Laertes (Patrick Kaufmann) bubbles with sibling affection, and her final scene with Hamlet brims with a beautiful sadness.
The entire cast should be commended for their active listening - an odd compliment, I know, but an important one in this play. When the actors are fully engaged, so are we. During the players’ performance for the king, the audience on stage is more fascinating than the “play” itself (as it should be).
Unless its been hacked to pieces, any “Hamlet” is a test of audience endurance. This three-hour production would have benefited from a bit more judicious cutting — in particular, the watch scene and the player’s speech (despite Robert Deike’s excellent rendition).
Though the aesthetic works well on the whole, some of the costume choices are ridiculous and unfortunate (both Hamlet and Ophelia’s “madness” outfits especially). And the sound design that worked well in the theater stumbled outdoors.
Overall, however, the canopies above (both celestial and arboreal) make the performance magical. The cemetery setting gives the funeral scene an added poignancy, and I loved the gesture of the gravedigger (also Dieke) giving up Ophelia’s ghost.
‘Hamlet’ continues 7:30 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through Nov. 6. Boggy Creek Cemetery, 7600 Circle S Road. See www.austix.com.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 24, 2010
Review: 'Hunter Gatherers'
Imagine your ideal dinner party. Good food, old friends, a little too much wine. Got the picture?
Now throw that idea out the window and get ready for a completely different kind of dinner party, one that begins with an animal sacrifice and ends with blood (and other bodily fluids) all over the floor. This nightmarish scenario is at the heart of Capital T Theatre’s production of “Hunter Gatherers,” written by up-and-coming San Francisco-based playwright Peter Sinn Nachtrieb and directed by Mark Pickell.
When Pam (Rebecca Robinson), a nervous and quirky thirty-something comes home one evening, she finds her husband Richard (Kenneth Wayne Bradley) hovering over a bleating lamb. The butcher, he explains, didn’t have enough fresh lamb for the swanky dinner party they are hosting with their best friends from high school, Wendy and Tom, so Richard thought he’d try slaughtering a lamb himself.
The moment when Pam and Richard decide to kill their own food sets off a chain of events that have these sophisticated city-dwellers devolving into their most primal, outrageous selves. Wendy (Liz Fisher) is aggravated by her nerdy husband Tom (Brad Price) and is drawn instead to the alpha-male masculinity of Richard.
As the evening wears on, Wendy becomes obsessed with the idea of having a baby with Richard, while Richard becomes increasingly like a cave man. Pam and Tom come up with a plan to get revenge on their cheating spouses, a plan that goes quickly, horribly, wrong.
Oh, did I mention that “Hunter Gatherers” is a comedy? Like many of Capital T’s productions, it’s a dark comedy, and there are plenty of seriously cringe-inducing moments here. Trust me, “Hunter Gatherers” is not for the faint of heart.
Though none of the characters are particularly likeable, the actors play their roles to the hilt, delighting in the opportunity to get progressively wilder as the night goes on. While all of them have an excellent sense of comedic timing, Brad Price stands out as the neurotic and understated Tom.
Capital T’s production of “Hunter Gatherers” is fast-paced, aggressive, and yes, often very funny. It seems to suggest that our basest, most ugly selves are lurking not very far under the surface of our civilized veneers. But it might make you think twice before serving lamb at your next dinner party.
“Hunter Gatherers” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through Nov. 6 at Hyde Park Theatre, 511 W. 43rd Street. Tickets $15-$25. www.capitalT.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 21, 2010
Review: 'Three Viewings'
Unless you’re British, witty, and in a movie, funerals generally aren’t all that funny. Funeral homes, on the other hand, well that’s a whole other bag of worms.
Directed by Ben Wolfe and playing now through Oct. 30th in the Austin Playhouse Larry L. King Theater, “Three Viewings” by Jeffrey Hatcher is a series of tragic-comic monologues set in the same funeral parlor in a small Midwestern town.
The show opens on Emil (Hans Venable), the director of the funeral home. Emil has a crush (or perhaps obsession might be a more appropriate word) on a real estate agent who frequents the viewings. The piece, “Tell Tale,” initially appears to be a sort of romantic comedy about death, but it takes a more ominous turn toward the end.
Venable brings an appropriate awkwardness to his role as undertaker, but his bubbly enthusiasm seems out of place. Perhaps funeral directors need to remain emotionally detached, but adding a lot more feeling and a bit more “creep” would have given the piece dramatic tension.
As Virginia, Cyndi Williams’ vivacious discussion of death builds to a sweet and sentimental finish in “Thirteen Things About Ed Carpolotti,” but the script is rather long-winded and predictable. Her story revolves around the death of her husband, Ed, “a real wheeler-dealer” who has left her with a huge pile of debt that rapidly snowballs out of control.
Both Williams and Venable bring an over-exaggerated comedic style to roles that demand more subtle performances. While the script, admittedly, isn’t great, it isn’t a farce either.
Jenny Granstein infuses her role as Mac, a down and out debutante, with a touching range of emotion. In “The Thief of Tears,” Gravenstein is dynamic and demurely immoral as the granddaughter of a cantankerous old heiress who has just died and left her fortune… not to her family. Though the unidentifiable accent Gravenstein starts out with disappears by the end, her performance is the only one with an emotional and dramatic arch.
Monologues are tough to sell to an audience, especially when they aren’t terribly well written. The cast of “Three Viewings” gives a valiant effort that results in a few nice moments of sentimentality, and a production that’s pleasant, but which ultimately lacks depth.
‘Three Viewings’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 5 p.m. Sundays at Austin Playhouse. $20. www.austinplayhouse.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
October 19, 2010
Review: 'The Biography of Physical Sensation'
If your mother ever told you not to leave the house without putting on a clean pair of underwear, she was right - especially if you’re heading to “Biography of Physical Sensation,” Rubber Repertory’s most recent venture into the world of interactive theater.
“Biography,” running now through Oct. 30 at Salvage Vanguard Theater, explores the life of a woman without telling her story. At least, not using words. Instead, Jamie Damon’s life is boiled down to a series of physical sensations, which are, in turn, performed on the audience. That’s right, the audience is the performance, and like all Rubber Rep shows, this is no holds barred theater.
But don’t worry, showing your skivvies is entirely a matter of choice. Though you may not know you’re making it at the time.
Each of the 40 audience members is given a choice before entering the theater — the three available chair sizes designate the degree of sensation experienced, and life doesn’t always happen fully clothed. Only a few brave souls end up in a state of undress, however. And frankly, with five “technicians” facilitating different sensations all at once, there’s so much going on that undergarments are not the highlight.
More like a visual poem than a play, “Biography of Physical Sensation” is certainly not like anything you’ve seen before or anything you’ll see again — since it will be different every night. The show turns its audience into co-creators, and there’s no telling how people will react.
From childhood triumphs, to adolescent growing pains, to adult ecstasies, this show runs the gamut. Every seat gets a different set of experiences all to themselves, though a few rely on group participation. You’ll make friends with your neighbors by choice or by force, but chances are you’ll have a great time.
Venturing into the unknown is what makes the show so enjoyable — which is why I’m being deliberately vague. It asks you to take life on life’s terms: often enjoyable, occasionally painful and rarely fully explained.
If your curiosity is insatiable, however, perhaps a glimpse of the prop list will suffice. The show includes, in no particular order: popcorn and peanut butter, blindfolds and bubble bath, bowling balls and bodily fluids, horseshoes (but no hand-grenades), and, of course, a certain amount of sexual paraphernalia. (The show is for adults only.)
Starting with a series of smells and a lot of suspense, “Biography” makes you appreciate the small things: the tastes, the sounds, the feelings. You’ll leave with a lot of questions and not many answers, but isn’t that a lot like life?
‘The Biography of Physical Sensation’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays through Sundays, through Oct. 30. $15-$25. www.salvagevanguard.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 18, 2010
Review: Aeolus Quartet
Aeolus Quartet is a powerful and thoughtful group of young musicians who, halfway through their time as UT Butler School of Music’s graduate quartet-in-residence, are charting an ascending course.
On Sunday night at Bates Recital Hall they played a concert of Beethoven’s first published string quartet, William Bolcom’s modern “Three Rags for String Quartet” and Felix Mendelssohn’s “String Quartet No.2 in A Minor.”
Beethoven’s “String Quartet in F Major, Op. 18” begins with a long allegro, in which Aeolus sounded very at ease, confident in their interpretation. They created weighted pauses — sustained silence, that made for some dramatic space between the music.
The second movement, which is inspired by the death scene from “Romeo and Juliet,” brought out a lovely cello tone and unified, manic dynamics that moved quickly from warm and calm, to furious bursts.
Aeolus are developing and expanding their style, and in the same movement a pause extended perhaps a touch too long, stretching drama into melodrama.
Bolcom’s three rags are super entertaining works that dance with Americana, classical and modern touches. Aeolus have a nice bead on how to play this music. ‘Graceful Ghost,’ an elegy for Bolcom’s father, is especially tender and nostalgic. This piece should be better known and the quartet embodied it beautifully.
The Mendelssohn gave Aeolus another chance to display a unity of technique and purpose, the violins and viola executing precise, exposed notes flawlessly. The work offers a few moments of whimsy that bring out the quartet’s evident sense of humor. After ending the first movement with a slightly uneven tone, they polished the work with sublime harmony, again showing a delicate, emotive touch.
Aeolus’ players are working towards graduate degrees or diplomas while studying with the Miro Quartet. In the meantime, this vibrant group shows great promise.
Before these musicians continue on their travels around the United States and the world, Austinites would do well to catch them at any of their — almost weekly — appearances. This performance was free and open to the public and attended mostly by music students.
To make local connection even easier, Aeolus have a nicely-curated blog and Facebook page that give a very human (and often funny) insight into their demanding performance and rehearsal schedule. One can read them cleverly respond to online spam or see a picture of their evening at Itzhak Perlmans’ home, where “Mr. P” took them on a voyage through the classical offerings of YouTube.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'The Fantasticks'
The longest running musical in Off-Broadway history has a little something for everyone.
Lyrical melodies about the promise of young love share the stage with serious themes like the disappointment of growing up. Toss in some meddling parents, swashbuckling swordfights, and a staged abduction scene, and you?ve got a quirky show that has been attracting audiences for fifty years.
To celebrate this milestone anniversary of ‘The Fantasticks,’ written and composed by University of Texas alumni Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones, UT’s Department of Theatre and Dance is staging a new production (directed by Rod Caspers).
In ‘The Fantasticks,’ two fathers (played with zany panache by Joey lePage and Zach Ullah) conspire to get their teenage children to fall in love by building a wall between their yards and pretending to be in a feud. To end the feud, they hire a bandit named El Gallo (Dan Sullivan) to stage the abduction of the girl, Luisa, so that the boy, Matt, can heroically save her.
The first act wraps up with happy endings all around, but in the second act, things start to get really interesting, albeit a little dark and surreal.
As Luisa, Haley Hussey has infectious energy as she belts out surprising sentiments such as ‘please don’t let me be normal!’ As Matt, Bryan Ballew is dorky yet endearing. He woos Luisa with absurd lines, as when comparing her to the microscopic insides of a leaf. In fact, the musical’s lyrics are one of the show’s delights. Listen closely and you’ll find out why the fathers think vegetables are better than children.
Though UT’s production is mostly satisfying, the decades old show includes some dated gender and cultural stereotypes that create a few moments of discomfort. And while ‘The Fantasticks’ played in a tiny theater for most of its New York run, here it takes place in a huge space that sometimes seems to dwarf the show’s simplicity.
Still, if you’ve seen ‘The Fantasticks’ before, you’ll likely be pleased by this fiftieth anniversary version. And chances are high that you?ll be humming the tune of the show?s most famous song, ‘Try to Remember’ for hours, perhaps days, after leaving the theatre.
‘The Fantasticks’ continues 8 p.m. October 20-22 and 2 p.m. October 24, B. Iden Payne Theatre, 300 E. 23rd Street. Tickets $15-$20. www.texasperformingarts.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo: Lauren Tarbel
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October 12, 2010
Review: 'Cowboy Noises'
Before the internet, before the novel, before writing even existed, communication began with a sound. Those sounds evolved into words, and we’ve been talking to each other ever since. Storytelling, the repetition and revision of oral histories, has been a vital facet of human tradition for thousands of years.
In Jaston Williams’ “Cowboy Noises,” playing now through Oct 17 at the Long Center for Performing Arts, Williams narrates autobiographical moments from small-town Texas, exploring the primal and inarticulate sounds that define and connect the men of the south.
A cross between stand-up comedy, mime show, and monologue, the Garrison Keillor-esque show is a soothing trip down memory lane. It’s also a bit of a history lesson for those of us who watched the sitcoms Williams’ references on “Nick at Night” instead of prime time. As such, some of the humor flies right over our heads. But for those in the audience who remember Connie Francis and “I Love Lucy” in the original, the jokes seemed to delight.
Laughter is a common theme in the show, and Williams offers various insights into the connective possibilities that laughter ignites. According to “Cowboy Noises,” laughter can be a way to camouflage fear, to heal the wounded soul, and, most importantly, to connect people across cultural and linguistic divides - it is a sound that anyone can recognize. Williams explains in the second half that laughter is the primal noise that unites him with his adopted son. As he puts it, laughter is the “sound that engendered our kinship.”
The show is filled with eloquent gems of wisdom and beautifully poetic language, and it settles into some very nice moments of quietude. Often where Williams begins isn’t where he ends up, but his narrative peregrinations are enjoyable on the whole. The long preamble of the first half builds to a slow and sweet payoff.
The poster for the performance, however, belies an energy that the show lacks. Williams’ gorgeous writing and fondness for alliteration might be more pleasing on the pages of a novel read by the fireside with a cup of hot cocoa than they were in the theater.
Though “Cowboy Noises” relies to some extent on past experiences with the performer (co-creator and co-star of the “Greater Tuna” plays), this is not a “Tuna” show. The humor is soft and slow burning, the pace is measured, and the performance somewhat subdued.
‘Cowboy Noises’ continues through Oct. 17 at the Rollins Studio Theater, Long Center. $31-$39. www.thelongcenter.org.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 11, 2010
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra and Judith Ingolfsson
The Austin Symphony Orchestra’s second concert this season lacked calling-card masterworks but surprised with moving melodies, an offbeat Berlioz symphony and a virtually unheard Schumann violin concerto featuring Iceland’s Judith Ingolfsson, conducted by Peter Bay.
On Friday night at the Long Center, two harps opened “Vysehrad,” the lyrical first movement from Bedrich Smetana’s anthem to his homeland, “Ma Vlast.” The strings showed beautiful balance, especially as the theme traveled back and forth.
At one point the violas played a remarkably breathless tremolo, a moment that stood in contrast to trumpet lines that felt exposed, struggling to blend. The cymbals, too sounded a little dry.
Leaving patriotic homages far, far behind, Ingolfsson graced the stage in an elegant gown, whose rose, peach and gold stripes popped against the orchestra’s black. Her violin sang with technical runs, chords and spot-on arpeggios, staying ever so slightly in front of the orchestra.
Schumann’s only violin concerto is one of music’s ugly ducklings. Composed just before the composer’s suicide attempt, it forever held that association and was hidden for nearly a century. The piece holds quite a melancholic spirit, and in the latter movements falls somewhat listless.
Nevertheless, the audience was grateful for hearing it, and stood for Ingolfsson’s playing, which compelled an encore that seemed perhaps a touch hasty.
Ingolfsson’s Bach sarabande was welcome, however. It was equally contemplative, without great flair, but with a raw, haunting quality.
Berlioz’s “Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14” straddled the Classical and Romantic periods, with a wildly bombastic final movement.
With moments almost stereotypically Classical, the long work has a tendency to dull your interest, until a timpani clangs you out of any stupor.
Unlike much of the acoustic music played in Dell Hall, which is often so quiet as to give the impression the orchestra is playing in a separate room, Berlioz’s loudest sections almost rattled you out of your chair.
The familiar third movement was forcefully played, with the trumpets leading the march. The bassoons and oboes offered confident and lyrical lines, including a fine staccato.
Later, a few french horn entries fished for pitch, but this sat as the only issue in the finely played symphony.
The final movement, a truly bizarre sonic romp, uses every section of the orchestra to paint a scene the composer called “Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath.”
Its triumphant horn melodies are broken by jarring percussion, teetering strings, and finally anchored by clanging bells, which were played through the stage’s back entrance, as if to let the dreamer know the real world is far away.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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October 4, 2010
Review: Conspirare's 'Sing Freedom: African American Spirituals
Conspirare may have met its match, at last.
On Friday evening at St. Martin’s Lutheran Church, Austin’s venerated choral ensemble embarked on a what may be its most challenging material to date —a concert of African American spirituals that offered moments of brilliance but ultimately felt stiff and overly academic.
The opening piece “O Black and Unknown Birds” was slightly askance, as the lower voices lacked precise unity in their entries.
These wrinkles soon smoothed out, and the choir found its pacing, launching into “I’ve Been in de Storm so Long” with an innovative and forceful arrangement by Craig Hella Johnson.
The bass voices sang the title words that rocked the work along, countering the three stunning soloists’ sustained harmonies. It added rhythm to a concert that could have used much more.
There were many flashes of brilliance. “Trouble so Hard/I’ve been ‘Buked,” despite a stiff delivery, offered stunning balance, tight harmony and a soaring climax that reverberated through the pews.
Later, composer Robert Kyr, in attendance, had the evening’s most cathartic moment with his powerful, haunting piece “Freedom Song.”
A lone chorister hammered a stick on the floor, with two soloists wailing a repeated mantra, until the beat sped up and wails swept through the entire chorus.
By intermission however, the evening felt poorly structured, with a long first half, and a lack of discernible themes.
And ultimately the context was the primary obstacle. Johnson spoke early in the evening about the importance of the African American spirituals in our collective history.
“These are songs we should all know because they belong to all of us,” he said.
But the truth is, they don’t. These are not “our” songs; they are the songs of the powerless, the enslaved, the stolen.
When choristers sang about freedom it was difficult to imagine what experiences privileged Americans bring to bear on such a distant concept as slavery.
Like a method actor, one can attempt to interpret and express these emotions. Indeed, Conspirare’s moving interpretations were often stunningly beautiful and effective.
But the audience must feel the actors are embodying the characters.
For the folk vernacular of these spirituals, the King’s English enunciation of Austin’s most accomplished choir simply seemed an awkward tool for the job.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
September 28, 2010
Review: Ballet Austin's 'Carmina Burana' and 'Kai'
Ballet Austin opened its new season this past weekend with three sold-out performances at the Long Center — with 6,920 attendees, a record-breaker for the company, more than any other season opening program its presented.
Likely it was the reprise of one of Ballet Austin’s most popular creations — Stephen Mills’ dance interpretation of Carl Orfff’s super-popular choral piece ‘Carmina Burana,’ sung by Grammy-nominated Austin choir Conspirare with the Austin Symphony Orchestra that was first presented in 2005.
Musically, this ‘Carmina Burana’ was spectacular with Conspirare director Craig Hella Johnson and the choir magnificently handling Orff’s challenging rhythm-based score and ever-changing tempo with aplomb and style. Baritone David Small, tenor Tracy Jacob Shirk and soprano Suzanne Ramo skillfully sung the challenging solo arias with Ramo bringing impressive warmth and clarity to her solos. In the pit, conductor Peter Bay and the Austin Symphony Orchestra clearly reveled in Orff’s musical histrionics.
Mills’ choreography finds an ultimately celebratory and revolutionary mood in Orff’s colorful interpretation of medieval songs of fate and fortune. Never mind the ominous and distracting metalwork contraption that loomed above the dancers clad in short colorful unitards. Was that contraption an abstract Wheel of Fortune? It was impossible to tell.
Groups of dancers romped and even tumbled at times during the 60-minute piece, sometimes evoking contemporary balletic spin on folkdance or maypole celebrations. But the corps — particularly the male dancers — lacked basic unison and synchronicity made all the more noticeable given the percussive, rhythm-driven nature of Orff’s raucous music and Mills vaguely abstracted choreography. As the polished sounds of Conspiare’s voice surged forward at Saturday night’s presentation, the dancers seemed pressed to keep up.
The program opened with ‘Kai,’ another reprise of a work by Mills and wholly opposite in mood to the sturm-und-drang of ‘Carmina Burana.’ Set to the music of John Cage, ‘Kai’ employed Mills’s signature angular geometries of ballet movement.
As the lead duo, Jaime Lynn Watts and Frank Shott proved again why they are always a rewarding pair to watch. But again, an inattention to unison of movement by the ensemble weakened any sophistication to this performance of ‘Kai.’
Review: Blue Lapis Light's 'One'
Blue Lapis Light, under the artistic direction of Sally Jacques, has been animating the spaces of downtown Austin for years, staging site-specific aerial dance in places like a nondescript federal building or the abandoned Seaholm Power Plant. Often their performances transform drab or forgotten spaces by bringing them back to life through dance.
The company’s newest performance, “One,” is staged at the City Terrace of the Long Center, and in this case the setting is the real star of the show.
The audience sits in the middle of the outdoor terrace while Austin’s ever-expanding skyline pulses with light and sound in front of them. When dancers emerge from darkness and fill the space atop the concrete ring encircling the patio, the audience takes a collective deep breath.
The fantastic backdrop of the city allows the company to play with scale in striking ways. When Theresa Hardy, a lone human form, dances her heart out on ground level, she is dwarfed by the cityscape behind her, a visual metaphor for the way the larger world can swallow up an individual. Indeed, “One” seems to loosely tell a story of human loneliness abated by connection with others and with larger forces.
The choreography stays in the realm of the company’s previous work. Dancers twist and twirl as they climb into the air on pale blue silks, and they appear to fly around the terrace’s pillars, suspended from harnesses.
For most of the hour-long performance, “One” sustained a slow-to-medium pace, and some of the evening’s best moments were when unexpected movement jolted the viewer out of the slow reverie. As the primary soloist, Theresa Hardy is eye-catching. Her movement is graceful, articulate, and tinged with emotion.
To complement the dancers, lighting designer Jason Amato creates dramatic visual effects. The music (by various artists) is often meditative, at times soaring, always actively giving the performance a sense of event and otherworldliness.
As “One” began, a few people taking their dogs for a late night romp at Auditorium Shores collected along the street, transfixed (and maybe a little confused) by the sight of dancers dangling in the air. But that’s part of the joy of site-specific art — it takes performance out of the theatrical black box and creates images of beauty in unexpected places.
“One” continues at 8:30 p.m. through Oct. 3, City Terrace, Long Center, 701 W. Riverside Dr. $22-$52. www.thelongcenter.org.
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
September 27, 2010
Review: Texas Early Music Project's 'Convivencia'
Convivencia is the name of an idealized era in Spanish history when Jews,Christians and Muslims lived peacefully alongside one another, inalternating positions of equality, for centuries. The word in Spanish means “co-existence,” an apt title for an age that prospered because it was tolerant, then floundered when its tolerance ran out.
The Texas Early Music Project framed this period Friday night in a concert titled ‘Convivencia’ at the University Presbyterian Church, playing a stirring concert of Renaissance music from all three cultures, accentuating the most spiritual elements.
Two dozen players in black formed a chorus and an ensemble of beautiful period instruments with elaborate carvings and designs.
There were lullabies, drinking songs and plenty of unrequited love; things each culture held in common. The variety was cleverly planned to evoke moods that rose and fell.
There was dancing and hand clapping in the Sephardic children’s song “Rahelica Baila” that would not be out of place on an Austin playground, contrasting with the more serious “Hal Tusta’adu,” which featured Gitanjali Mathur’s moving solo, backed by bells, drums, and the full chorus.
Harmonies had a richness and depth all evening, and the instrumentalists showed brilliant control, dynamics and sensitivity. Very rarely did a bass note drop out, or a rhythm sound out of place; the ensemble seemed confident and relaxed, which made it a pleasure to watch.
Playing the Santjur (a wooden box resembling a pedal steel guitar that is hit with slim mallets), Kamram Hooshmand gave a virtuostic performance that literally echoed out into the pews.
And Tom Zajac, a guest performer, seemed everywhere at once, playing wooden flutes and recorders, often while beating drums in his left hand.
The evening began with a sung prayer that drew from each of the three holy books, and it finished the same way, bookending a thoughtful and moving evening that showed a great deal of variety and had a transportative effect on a humid Friday evening.
For some, it may take some adjustment to attune the ear to the strange and beautiful half-note tuning in many of the solos. It endows the music with a foreign tinge that gives the willing listener a rush of empathy, especially in a world myopically in fear of mosques, Muslim dress and the music of its call to prayer.
This period of musical, architectural and cultural exchange ended with the expulsion of the Moors and of the Jews who refused to convert. Its inherent inequality may not be a model for the modern age, but it’s impressive that some of the earliest known music has made itself so relevant once again.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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September 23, 2010
Review: 'Rent' at Zach Theatre
Traveling always involves baggage, even if your flight is only one of the imagination. Whether seeing it for the first or fiftieth time, you bring something with you to any show, especially if it’s an iconic musical.
It’s generally a good idea to travel light, but it will do you service at Zach Theatre’s current production of “Rent,” running now through Nov. 28. Die-hard “Rent” fanatics might be a bit disappointed with the production, but for the rest of us the show is a heart-breaking reminder that the problems America faced in the late 80s (when the play is set) are still with us 20 years later.
“Rent” took America by storm in the late 1990s — no small feat given the state of musical theater these days. But the combination of gorgeous music and pressing social issues translated into a smash hit that still resonates today. More than anything, “Rent” asks us to stay open-minded and compassionate for our fellow human beings.
The show pivots around a series of relationships — interpersonal, interracial and every kind of sexual. Down-and-out in New York City, the characters struggle to keep their home when they don’t have the money to pay the rent. Even squatters have baggage, and many of the characters in “Rent” are weighed-down with the burden of terminal disease.
Joshua Denning and Roderick Sanford absolutely shine as Angel and Collins. As the dying drag queen, Denning animates the show with his unstoppable goodwill and impressive acrobatics. Sanford’s voice pulls us in and won’t let go, and his sincerity hits home. The two actors bring energy, devotion, and sensitivity to the roles, and their performances will bring you to tears (in the good way).
Andrew Cannata gives an excellent performance as the lonely documentarian, Mark. Cannata has a great sense of comedic timing, energy and emotion.
While the entire ensemble pulls together to keep the show going, Scott Swanson deserves particular praise for his heart-rending opening of “Will I?” in the first half.
Mimi and Roger (Karma Stewart and John Pointer) are the second most-compelling love story in the show, though the race isn’t very close. They absolutely nail their “Without You” duet in the second half and rally towards the end, but both actors struggle to keep us involved. And if you’re coming to the show to hear “Out Tonight,” Stewart’s rendition will leave you sadly disappointed.
But overall, the show is well worth it. If you leave your luggage at the door, you’ll be amazed, entertained, and utterly empathetic.
‘Rent’ continues 8 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through Nov. 28. Zach Theatre, W. Riverside Dr. and S. Lamar Blvd. $20-$62. www.zachtheatre.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
September 21, 2010
Review: Trouble Puppet's 'Frankenstein'
Despite being penned by a woman, Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” never struck me as a particularly feminist text. Yet Trouble Puppet Theatre Company’s current production of “Frankenstein,” running now through Oct. 3 at Salvage Vanguard Theater, takes a surprisingly affirmative stance on feminine influence in the saga.
In Connor Hopkins’ version of the classic tale, Victor Frankenstein’s wife, Elizabeth, is decidedly the brains of the operation. She’s not the least bit squeamish, nor is she interested in reproduction. Practical and pragmatic, Elizabeth struggles to keep Victor and his mentor, Doctor Pretorious, on task and out of trouble — to no avail.
It wouldn’t be “Frankenstein” if the monster didn’t come to life and leave the doctor behind, but how we get there and where we go are a departure from the usual fare. This time, aside from his own creation, Victor has mentor, wife, and sidekicks to manage. And once the monster escapes, the carriage chase takes us to Revolutionary France instead of the Arctic glaciers.
The Trouble Puppet troupe of puppeteers brings the story to life with skill and serious teamwork. Even though each puppet requires two or more people to make it move, it’s easy to forget they’re there. The puppets come alive before our eyes, focusing our attention on the beauty of body language.
Hopkins’ narrative enthusiasm is evident, and his imaginative flights of fancy re-invigorate a familiar story. His henchmen are a wonderful new take on the hackneyed hunchback we’re used to, though they still provide comic relief - demonstrating that puppets are capable of unexpectedly physical comedy.
Like every version of Shelley’s story, this one takes a lot of liberties - with both delightful and slightly disappointing results.
The scenes are split by slide projections, which keep us informed of our progress and fill the narrative gaps. At times the slides are extremely amusing, at others a little confusing and lengthy.
Elizabeth and the other new characters capture our attention and hearts, but at the cost of sufficient sympathy for the monster. With so much energy packed into the first half — the lovely shadow-puppet back-story of Doctor Pretorious and his gypsy — there’s not enough space to humanize the story’s central figure, which somewhat misses the point.
Overall, Trouble Puppet’s endeavors are exciting and innovative, and “Frankenstein” is a fun way to usher in the Halloween season.
‘Frankenstein: The Trouble Puppet Show’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through Oct. 3 at Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. $10-$15. www.troublepuppet.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman’s freelance arts critic.
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September 19, 2010
Review: 'Happy Birthday Mr. Cage' concert
John Cage’s music can be hard to love, but the master of art-music experimentation has devout followers in Austin.
Thursday night at First Unitarian Church, Line Upon Line percussion ensemble and the Austin Chamber Music Center interpreted some of Cage’s most challenging work for “Happy Birthday Mr. Cage,” ACMC’s annual celebration of the composer.
Percussionist Matt Teodori gave a brief, and helpful, outline of what we could expect: circular breathing into conch shells, burning pine cones, crumpling (and uncrumpling) paper and replacing phonograph needles with unusual materials.
Then the three percussionists centered on stage for “Three2.” They tapped metallic and wooden objects between long silences, adding the sound and light of a lit match struck on beat and extinguished in a water cup from Chipotle.
It was a spare, but intriguing, place to start; the pacing recalled the chiming of bells in meditation.
In the interlude Michelle Schumann played “Suite For Toy Piano,” numbers one through five, accompanied by a reading of Cage’s text piece “Art Is Either A Complaint Or Do Something Else.”
Unfortunately the live reading and toy piano did not make a friendly pair, as they each fought to be heard, and the monotone spoken word became just an annoyance. Not that this was completely undesirable, in context, of course.
“Inlets” called for conch shells of different sizes, to be filled with water and jostled into microphones. The stunning result is a babbling brook, like water lapping to shore.
The natural theme continued when an assistant stepped outside to light the metal box of pine cones on fire. The sound of burning pine cones and leaves, a few pops with a dim hiss, came in, along with a shifting orange glow that rose and fell behind the trio in the glassed courtyard.
This work did expose a problem with sight lines: it was impossible to see the trio as they moved in front of the courtyard, and again, as they sat on the stairs for the “4’33”.” A secondary concern, of course, but still, they deserve to be seen.
The night’s most fulfilling piece was the last, “Credo In Us,” a modern classic. Schumann played a wonderful hand-deadened piano (whose sound uncannily echoes modern syntheisized sounds), as two players galloped perfectly in time across metal cans.
Cullen Faulk, playing the radio, happened upon a gloriously out-of-place country ballad whose singer cried “I won’t let my guard down … I’m not lovin’ anymore.” The audience chuckled, as if to say, this is what Cage is all about.
Just as much fun as the show was the after-show invitation to swarm the stage and pick through the instruments and tools.
Adam Bedell’s scrapyard finds included a shiny steel oil reservoir and what
looked like the plate off a brake rotor. We tapped the steel tin and rotor, and two clangs of metal, both very different, reverberated. This, too, is what Cage is all about. Looking forward to your next birthday, Mr. Cage.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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September 15, 2010
Review: 'MilkMilkLemonade'
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Well, you would too, if you had a poisonous spider, a sadistic bully, and a cancerous chicken farmer chasing after you.
Though “MilkMilkLemonade” by Joshua Conkel, playing now through Sept. 26 at the Vortex, isn’t written by an Austinite, the show gleefully contributes to the tradition of keeping Austin (theater) weird. Under the direction of Jason Hays, Shrewd Productions’ enchanting show demonstrates of the kind of magic that happens when a cast commits itself completely to a script that walks the tightrope of ridiculousness.
Despite any initial reservations about the story of a boy and his chicken, “MilkMilkLemonade” is a touching and charismatic romp through childhood dreams and disillusions, albeit with ominous and adult overtones.
Emory (Xaq Webb) is a fifth-grader who isn’t like other boys and not just because his best friend in the world is Linda, a chicken a la drag queen (Joe Hartman). Raised by his chain-smoking, chicken-farming grandmother (Chris Humphrey), Emory has a penchant for Barbie dolls and dance numbers.
The play centers on the story of little boys with big dreams, exploring the difficulties of adolescence and gender roles in small-town America. While Emory seems content to be himself regardless of what other people say, his bullying friend Elliot (Jericho Thorpe) lives in constant internal struggle — in part due to the parasitic evil twin living in his thigh (Shannon Grounds). I told you the play was weird, just bear with me.
Shannon Grounds, as the Lady in the Leotard (and evil twin, chicken translator, and spider), sets the stage with a spirit-fingered invitation to use our imaginations. The Lady in the Leotard narrates the show, and Grounds infuses her roles with an enthusiasm and sincerity that pull us in and keep us along for the ride.
Nicholas Renaud’s set takes us back to childhood without being childish, and its cartoonish qualities keep us happily grounded in our willing suspension of disbelief.
The make-up in the show is outstanding, and makeup designer Amelia Turner deserves her own round of applause. Turner transforms Chris Humphrey into a horrifyingly haggard old pragmatist and she turns Joe Hartman into the most glamorous piece of poultry you’ll ever set eyes on.
“MilkMilkLemonade” shows us how much courage it takes to be yourself, especially if that self is a six-foot chicken in drag. Hartman and the rest of the cast deliver performances that make us reconsider our assumptions and leave us wanting more.
“MilkMilkLemonade” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays through Sept. 26 at the Vortex Theatre. $15-$25. www.vortexrep.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: Artisan String Quartet
The public at large is rarely invited to a masterclass, and that’s a shame. Concerts in such small quarters, with a brief demonstration or talk, provide a rich experience for students, and would give any audience more reason to come see a show.
Sunday night in San Marcos, the Artisan String Quartet put on a powerful performance of Mozart and Tchaikovsky on the campus of Texas State University. It wasn’t a masterclass so much as a chance to see top-tier musicians in an intimate recital hall.
They played Mozart and Tchaikovsky, demanding and beautiful pieces of the chamber repertoire, with the technical precision and artistic flourish you would expect from some of Central Texas’ most esteemed classical players.
The Mozart “Quintet in C Major” pulled in Ames Asbell of the Tosca String Quartet to complete the set, adding maximum viola power to the middle register. It was a treat to hear Asbell working alongside Bruce Williams to play Mozart’s winding harmonies. Both are such expressive players that seeing them together is enough to make viola converts of us all.
The quintet is brimming with themes that rise, fall and intersect with a pulsating background, until they’re traded, unexpectedly, with another player. Artisan’s performance was assured, with astonishing communication between the voices.
Despite this musicality, the small room did allow the first violin’s higher pitches to overwhelm passages meant to highlight the violas; even with two instruments the alto voices were unable to compete.
After a brief intermission, the quartet took on Tchaikovsky’s most famous quartet, “String Quartet in D Major, op. 11,” the evening’s highlight.
The work feels like a full symphony that has been boxed inside four players. Its opening chords felt fresh, as they brought out a solemn country melody, and a gentle, thoughtful tone from the quartet.
Douglas Harvey’s cello playing was delicate, yet sustained, working in tune with Williams, whose viola sang passionately and confidently throughout the piece.
And the eerie second movement gave goosebumps as the quartet brought its sensitivity and lyrical form to the melody’s amused melancholy. Tchaikovsky’s winding runs were played with dynamics in full unison, moving beautifully through the piece — even the silences seemed musical.
Despite the small crowd, which consisted strictly of students (including one who talked, seemingly to himself, at increments throughout) the group brought a full professional weight. The room, despite being a few degrees colder than ideal, plays very warmly, and considering the pittance charged for such shows, they’re well worth the drive.
Hopefully Central Texans will take notice of the outstanding work being done both by the Artisan String Quartet, and other performers on the university’s schedule this semester.
The Artisan String Quartet repeats the program Saturday night at 8 p.m. as part of the St. Cecilia Music Series at First Presbyterian Church. stceciliamusicseries.org
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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September 13, 2010
Review: 'Vigil' at Hyde Park Theatre
When it comes down to life’s two inevitabilities, only one stands out as fodder for hilarity. Taxes are one of life’s depressing realities that it’s hard to laugh about, even in a theater.
Morris Panych’s play, “Vigil,” showing now through Oct. 9 at Hyde Park Theater, is a darkly comic look at the slow and steady march toward death. It’s a portrait of two people, lonely and misanthropic, who eventually prove that misery does love company.
After receiving a letter from his long-estranged auntie, Grace (Lana Dieterich), Kemp (Ken Webster) has quit his job and come cross-country to be by her side. Grace is knocking on death’s door, and Kemp arrives, suitcase in hand, to ease her journey through the threshold.
Only death doesn’t seem to be answering, and Kemp is more concerned with his inheritance than his aunt’s emotional wellbeing.
Yet the production leaves a hanging question as to what’s actually there to inherit. Set designer Paul Davis’ attention to detail in the decrepitude of Grace’s bedroom is nothing short of impressive. The stained walls and three-layers of peeling wallpaper, however, do little to convince us that Kemp would stick around as long as he does if inheritance is his only motivation.
But this is not just a play about greed. “Vigil” explores the humor and sadness in lost opportunities, long-standing resentments and interminable loneliness.
Though Dieterich remains scornfully silent for most of the play, she skillfully shows us that an actor doesn’t have to be speaking to make her point. Her expressiveness is a delight to watch, and her silences are never empty.
Kemp fills the time and silence with cynical reflections on childhood memories, and the laughs are built around moments of pseudo-shock. We don’t know whether he’s in earnest or aiming to get a reaction, but it’s hard not to laugh at some of his most bitter diatribes.
Whether it’s the script itself or Webster’s deadpan delivery, this is a show of one-liners. The pace is somewhat erratic, partly due to the number of blackouts between short scenes, but it picks up in the second half.
“Vigil” explores the consequences of a lifetime of unfulfilled hopes and dreams, ultimately encouraging us to make the best of the time we have — if only to avoid a depressing end.
‘Vigil’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturday through Oct. 19 at Hyde Park Theatre. $17-$19 ((Thursdays pay-what-you-can). www.hydeparktheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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September 12, 2010
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra, Andre Watts, piano
Though the centennial of Austin Symphony Orchesta’s founding isn’t until April 2011, ASO is starting the celebrations early with a certain fanfare. And in terms of mood, that fanfare was felt at the Long Center Friday night, the opening concert of the orchestra’s new season.
Music director Peter Bay began the program with William Schuman’s New England Triptych. Based on the hymns of early American Revolution-era composer William Billings, the Triptych a kind full-strength twentieth-century Americana — a Main Street parade of musical quotations that flashes by in impressionistic bursts though Schuman lets Billings’ hymns standout. While the orchestra’s general attack and force had an energy to it, there was some noticeable muddiness in the more vigorous stretches where more alacrity seemed needed.
Pianist André Watts, the evening’s guest artist, delivered a polished if a tad perfunctory performance of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4. Thankfully, Watts held back on easily over-dramatized flourishes, letting Beethoven’s lyricism be the focus, especially in the beautiful second movement. And though he was with the orchestra, Watts seemed to sonically avoided joining it altogether.
After what’s become the obligatory standing ovation for orchestra guest artists, Watts left the stage. No encore for Austin, it seems.
Schumann’s Symphony No. 2 finished the evening’s program after intermission. Again if the orchrestra’s basic attack was there, details and finesse were not. The woodwinds cracked at their few important focused moments. More vigorous passages sometimes seemed a scramble for the orchestra. In the end, the orchestra’s essential competency dominated but what was wanting was élan, intensity and inspiration.
Review: Austin Shakespeare's 'The Tempest'
A group of people survive a terrible accident and land on a remote island inhabited by a plotting sorcerer and a host of supernatural beings. Though this may sound like the plot of television’s ‘Lost,’ it’s actually the premise behind William Shakespeare’s ‘The Tempest.’
In Austin Shakespeare’s current production, directed by Ann Ciccolella, the title storm that opens the show is a big, rollicking one, made especially thrilling by the way lighting designer Jason Amato’s lightning bolts cut through an unbelievably dense fog.
When the chaos ends, a complicated story begins to unravel. Prospero (a dignified Steve Shearer) is a magician and the exiled Duke of Milan, who has been living on a mysterious island for 12 years with his daughter, Miranda (Lindsley Howard).
He conjured the storm to wreck a ship carrying his deceitful brother, Antonio (David J. Boss) and the current King of Naples (Tom Stephan), in order to seek some kind of redemption for the events of the past. The shipwreck sets in motion all kinds of elaborate subplots, involving enchantments, attempted murder, romance, and way, way too much alcohol.
Most of the performers are quite good at bringing Shakespeare’s language to life. The comedic trio of Stephano, a drunken butler (Nathan Jerkins), Trinculo, a jester (Michael Dalmon) and Caliban, a ‘monster’ enslaved by Prospero (Michael Amendola) are all highly animated and skilled at physical comedy. As Miranda’s love interest, Ferdinand, Travis Emery is sweetly genuine.
Despite the cast’s efforts, the staging is often static, and with such an expository script, a little more physical action would help focus the audience’s attention. The production design hits an odd note as well — it doesn’t create a fantastical island atmosphere as much as it creates a surreal, stark landscape reminiscent of the far out island inhabited by Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow in ‘Pirates of the
Caribbean 3.’
Still, Austin Shakespeare’s production is timely. The 400th anniversary of ‘The Tempest,’ is approaching, and a new film adaptation starring Helen Mirren as a gender-swapped Prospera (directed by Julie Taymor) will be released soon. This might be just the time to catch a theatrical production of the show before the film
leaves indelible images.
‘The Tempest’ continues 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays through Sept. 26 Rollins Studio Theatre Long Center. $23-$29 ($15 for students) www.thelongcenter.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
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September 6, 2010
Review: 'Intergalactic Nemesis'
If you’ve ever wished you could see a comic really come to life, Jason Neulander has the show for you. Despite the recent rash of Marvel-funded feature films, movie theaters aren’t the only place where comic-book credits roll across the screen.
Making it premier at the Long Center for Performing Arts last weekend, the most recent manifestation of “The Intergalactic Nemesis,” written and directed by Neulander, is an illustrated journey across both time and space.
Originally envisioned as a live-performance radio drama inspired by Star Wars, Indiana Jones and pulp detective thrillers, “Nemesis” harkens back to an earlier time in American entertainment while simultaneously venturing into a potential future of inter-planetary warfare.
Touted as a live-action graphic novel, “The Intergalactic Nemesis” combines the efforts of three actors, one Foley artist, one composer, a comic-book artist and a few dozen microphones to create “a period-action-sci-fi-horror-space-opera-adventure” that will entertain comic fans of all ages.
While images from the comic book series (inspired by the script of the early versions of the show) were projected onto the Long Center’s enormous 42 foot by 24 foot screen, we watched and listened as performers brought the pictures to life.
Displaying a vocal versatility to be reckoned with, Chris Gibson gave voice to hero, villain, and henchman, at times all in the same breath. But the delight didn’t end with his audible emissions. Gibson enlivened his roles with surprising dynamism considering the performers are largely stationary throughout the show.
Surrounded by a mountain of miscellaneous objects and microphones, Buzz Moran, the show’s sole Foley artist, was equally enchanting to watch at work.
Given its reliance on comic and pulp fiction conventions, the overall story line is a bit predictable, but “Nemesis” manages to make the impossible plot twists entertaining by being self-aware about its own cheesiness.
The characters employ adorable colloquialisms to make them identifiable. The unlikely librarian-hero, Ben Wilcott (Chris Gibson), is particularly endearing with his “by the archive’s” and good old-fashioned right hooks.
The giant projections did some disservice to the art of the comic book, and the performers were much more engaging to watch up close. I can’t speak for those unfortunates in the balcony seats, but the Long Center’s Dell Hall may have been too large for such an intimate and interesting concept.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelancer critic.
September 1, 2010
Review: 'Muses IV: Memories of a House'
From the first to the last, every homeowner adds a little bit of themselves to a house — putting up a wall, taking one down, changing the light fixtures, re-tiling the bathroom.
Every house has a story, and the Vestige Group has undertaken the task of bringing those stories to life. The project began several years ago, when they invited Austin playwrights to write scenes inspired by and to be performed in a local home.
This year, in “Muses IV: Memories of a House,” running now through Sept. 12, the group added a family to the mix. Instead of telling ten separate stories, they asked playwrights to invent ten moments in the same family’s life - no small feat despite the size of the house.
The family begins with Winston, the venture capitalist father with handy-man aspirations, and his wife Denise, an alcoholic psychiatrist who receives patients in her home. Their children are Shawn and Nora, teenagers with understandable angst. Each character is played by a different actor in almost every scene, and the scenes span nearly three decades of familial evolution.
Three separate groups of audience members are simultaneously led through the stories, so we experience these narratives in a different order. Since the playwrights presumably couldn’t have known in which order we would see their scene, the exposition is understandably choppy and forced at times.
Though the intimate scenes between family members work better on the whole than the monologues and soliloquies, Kacy Todd gives a delightful performance as Nora in “Goodnight God,” a monologue written by Aimee Gonzales in which the Bible-thumping teen asks God for guidance.
Playing Shawn in two of the scenes, Gregory Orsack Ramirez is a convincingly apprehensive teenager. And though her scene comes a bit out of nowhere, Karina Dominguez is an amusingly unabashed sex-addict in “Pleasure to Meet You.”
Combining the efforts of eight playwrights, 16 actors, and five directors, “Muses” is a smorgasbord of Austin creativity. However, like any sampling - wine or cheese or what have you - it’s easy to get overwhelmed, over-inundated, or lost if the pairings are unstructured.
The sight-specific performance is an enjoyable departure from typical theater, and the artistic aims are commendable. But ten scenes might be a few too many, and asking eight playwrights to write about the same people may have been a bit ambitious.
‘Muses IV: Memories of a House’ continues 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays through Sept. 12. $15-$25, address given upon reservation thevestigegroup@gmail.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
Photo: Austin Candids
August 30, 2010
Review: 'I Witness'
Postmodern is one of those lovely ambiguous labels that tends to get bandied about by critics and academics when we don’t exactly know what to say. It often seems to mean whatever its speaker wants it to mean. So in this instance, I’ll be sure to clarify.
“I Witness,” Tutto Theatre Company’s current production, running now through Sept. 4 at the Blue Theatre, is definitely postmodern. What makes it postmodern? The intentional juxtaposition of “high” and “low” culture, and a disorienting use of fragments, pastiche, montage — to me, these are fundamental aspects of postmodern art. While a collage sort of performance can make it difficult to focus on any given thing, it also allows you options about where to look or listen, which can be nice.
Billed as “an evening of dance (and spoken-word) with choreography by Amanda Oakley, Shawn Nasralla, and Jennifer Micallef,” the show is neither a play, nor a poetry reading, nor a dance recital… it’s all three — sort of.
It’s a play only in the sense that there does seem to be some sort of narrative through line that deals with love, identity and physics. There are performers who speak lines to an audience. And it happens in a theater.
The lines are a mish-mash of poetry, literary excerpts, quotations and explanations of physics by Albert Einstein and Niels Bohr, verging dangerously on the edge of pretentious. These “spoken-words” can be difficult to follow despite the actors efforts. Lizzi Biggers infuses her lines with captivating ardor, but Alex Cogburn would have done well to find some emotions to put behind his.
The dancing is certainly not traditional though classical elements appear, and it occasionally reminded me more of pilates than of pirouettes — which actually made it much more enjoyable than that might sound. Seeing legs in the air and not on the ground was disorienting in a delightful way and at times produced a whimsical sort of beauty that can be lacking in more stoic forms of dancing.
The play of shadows orchestrated by Natalie George’s breathtaking light design is worth the trip in itself, but the talented array of dancers really make the magic happen. Unlike a traditional chorus line, each woman stands out with her own shape, size, and costume.
You may have to pick a favorite to focus on with so much happening at once, but it’s not like that’s a new dilemma for anyone living in the age of the world wide web.
8 p.m. Thursday - Saturday. $15 (Thursdays pay-what-you-can). www.tuttotheatre.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: ‘B-Boy Bluez'
There’s an undeniable energy to hip-hop music, a kinetic force, a driving beat that just won’t stop.
Writer and performer Zell Miller III channels this energy into “B-Boy Bluez,” a lively theatrical love letter to hip-hop culture running through Sept. 4 at the Vortex theater, in co-production with UpRise! Productions.
One of the few performers in Austin whose work fits into the genre of hip-hop theatere, Miller skillfully combines hip-hop elements (graffiti art, rap/spoken word, dj-ing beats) with autobiographical stories and character-driven monologues. The fourth element of hip-hop, breakdancing (or b-boying) is brought to life by dancers from local dance crew Outta Kontrol (with choreography by Ananda Mayi Moss and Tony Phillips), who glide through space effortlessly and are a sheer joy to watch.
Miller is a fast-paced and spirited performer who excels at connecting with the audience through telling personal stories that are funny, touching, and full of pop culture references (“Charlie’s Angels,” “Hawaii Five-0”) that will make old-enough audience members flash back to their own pasts nostalgically. In other memorable scenes, Miller plays a “professor” of hip-hop, who schools the audience in hip-hop history.
Like all true hip-hop artists, Miller threads his rhymes with incisive social commentary. In “B-Boy Bluez” he tackles the gentrification of East Austin and the way hip-hop has been commercialized and turned into a commodity for the masses. He also calls out current hip-hop artists for continuing to spread misogyny and homophobia through their music.
Mostly, though, the show centers on the positive effect hip-hop culture had on Miller’s life as a young boy growing up in Austin. As Miller talks about the artists who have influenced him— KRS-One, Public Enemy, Digable Planets — his passion and respect shine through. The show is definitely about race, class, and history, but it’s also about the power of language, art, and music to inspire lives and reshape worlds.
The program note rather mysteriously states that Miller is planning to “walk away” from being a featured performer to focus more time on producing and writing in the future. If this is true, one should definitely see “B-Boy Bluez” before he does.
‘B-Boy Bluez’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays through Sept. 4 at The Vortex, 2307 Manor Road. Tickets $10-$30. Sundays 2-for-1 admission with donation of two non-perishable food items for SafePlace. www.vortexrep.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
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August 24, 2010
Review: 'Jersey Boys'
Variously named the Variatones, the Village Voices, the Four Lovers, and the Topics, the group went through more than a dozen names before finally landing on the one we all know and love, the Four Seasons.
“Jersey Boys,” the first installment of this season’s Broadway Across America tour playing at the Bass Concert Hall now through Sept. 5, traces the humble (and only slightly criminal) beginnings of the Four Seasons all the way through their tumultuous years of success and eventual dissolution.
It all begins with Tommy DeVito (Matt Bailey), the two-bit hustler with a gambling problem who wants to make it big. DeVito discovers the teenage Francis Stephen Castelluccio working as a busboy in a nightclub and hears in his voice a ticket to the top. Tommy takes Castelluccio under his wing, and Frankie Valli (Joseph Leo Bwarie) is born.
The group, however, takes a while to gain momentum, partly due to Tommy DeVito’s and Nick Massi’s (Steve Gouveia) merry-go-round of incarceration. But when they finally stumble upon the young singer and songwriter, Bob Guadio (Ryan Jesse), the Four Seasons start their ascent in earnest.
As we would expect, the staging is spectacular in the Broadway sense of the term. Neon signs, LCD screens and backlit scenery flash across the stage in impressive numbers. On the whole the eye-catching lighting is enjoyable, save a blindingly bright moment just before the end of the first half.
Though the base set design is fairly industrial and sparing, it’s appropriate for the group’s New Jersey background and seems to suggest that the men are trapped in their pasts.
More like a narrated concert than a play, the show allows each member of the group to tell his story. The narrator-based plot structure doesn’t leave much room for character development, but the show has some really fun meta-theatrical moments.
When the group plays their first hit single, “Sherry,” the auditorium erupts into applause and the actors get to enjoy it as if they’re hearing it for the first time.
The musical showcases both the group’s and Valli’s lengthy list of hits. While we may not identify much with the men themselves, the songs are unavoidably delightful. It can either be a trip down memory lane, or a history lesson imbued with a bit of pizzazz, but either way, if you love the music then you’re in for a good time.
8 p.m. Tuesdays-Fridays, 2 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2 and 7:30 p.m. Sundays through Sept. 5. Bass Concert Hall, 2350 Robert Dedman Drive. www.broadwayacrossamerica.com.
Permalink | | Categories: Cate Blouke, Reviews, Theatre
August 23, 2010
Review: 'Dead White Males'
If you can read this, then chances are you’ve had a teacher at least once in your life, and that’s the only prerequisite for enjoying Sustainable Theater’s production of “Dead White Males” by William Missouri Downs, playing now through September 11 at The Hideout Theater.
Subtitled “A Year in the Trenches of Teaching,” the satiric play tackles the obstacle course of politically corrected, color-coded bureaucracy that contemporary educators must face, proving that even education is subject to corruption and conflicts of interest.
The opening roll call paints a picture of the problems ahead. First, there’s Janet (Molly Fonseca), the enthusiastic ingenue certified to teach art, assigned to teach history instead. Then there’s Doris (Suzanne Balling), the jaded science teacher certified to teach history. Ms. Woods (Beth Burroughs) is the art teacher certified in science, and the three administrators are in charge for no certifiable reason.
The show starts with a hilarious illustration of counterintuitive administrative intervention. The teachers at Thomas Paine elementary are under review, and as the bureaucrats sit in the corner shouting suggestions and asking Janet to pretend they aren’t there, she valiantly tries to control her classroom and preserve her sanity.
Fonesca embodies the enthusiasm of the uninitiated, and Balling’s blase attitude masks a sincerity that shows us the crippling weight of continual compromise.
As Master Teacher Burns, Kaite Brock comes off as America’s answer to Dolores Umbridge — her officious interruptions are exasperatingly impossible for the teachers to ignore, and equally impossible to gratify.
The school’s principal Petlogg (Dennis Kelleher Bailey), is an administrative stooge with a big fat secret. Bailey’s bumbling self-importance is consistently amusing, making his moments of solemnity all the more unsettling.
Dr. Ozzy Mandius (Robert Deike) rounds out the superintending trio as the Amway-peddling authoritarian and Christian fundamentalist in charge of everything. Though Deike’s portrayal might seem farcical at times (the misspelled overhead projections are a bit much), the character is disturbingly similar to the man behind the Texas Board of Education’s recent amendments to the social science curriculum.
Director Derek Kolluri provides a frame of reference with his pre-show entertainment — inspirational education commercials of bygone days juxtaposed with recent news footage regarding Texas’ conservative educational shift.
The play rings depressingly true in the current educational climate and the comedic cast masterfully instills the serious moments with chilling gravity. It’s a truly funny look into some of life’s unfortunate realities and the often overlooked tenacity of the teachers that care.
‘Dead White Males’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturday through Sept. 11 at the Hideout Theatre, 617 Congress Ave. On Sept. 10, playwright William Missouri Downs will join Sustainable Theatre Project for a talk-back following the performance. www.sustainabletheatreproject.org
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
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August 17, 2010
Review: 'Incidents at the 22 Hotel'
The disquieting beauty of the distorted human form was an essential element of Wura-Natasha Ogunji’s most recent work, “Incidents at the 22 Hotel,” performed last weekend at the Off Center.
“Incidents” centered on the existential crisis of the figure of an “Unexplained Presence” (Ghislaine Jean-Mahone), but as the figure’s name might indicate, it was not a typical sort of identity crisis.
Combining elements of Butoh and Afro-futurism, “Incidents at the 22 Hotel” was a fusion of science-fiction and performance art that focused our attention intensely on the bodies of the performers.
Annelize Machado and Nicole Vlado steadily ran circles around the space while we watched “Unexplained Presence” struggling convulsively with the effort of imagining her own existence.
The intense physicality produced visceral reactions in the audience in ways that were surprising at quite lovely at times. As the four performers swayed rhythmically in the silence of the wind, it felt as if we swayed with them. As the runners gasped for breath, our heart rates increased as if we were running as well. And it was a distinctly unique experience to sit amongst a sea of masked audience members watching each other watch the performers.
Ogunji’s work explored the significance of history and memory in a world where all the land masses have gone under. In the first act, Jean-Mahone embodied an African artifact - found by the two runners/Ife Heads (Machado and Vlado) and offered to the sea and the private collectors played by the audience. In the second act, “Unexplained Presence” willed herself into human existence, replete with gold spandex body suit.
Just as “Unexplained Presence” discovered, in the world of spirits and ancestors if you don’t speak the “shadow language” you’re likely to get a bit lost. Billed as a play, the performance was much more accessible when considered retrospectively in terms of its primary influence, Japanese Butoh dance.
Striving to express bodily forms the way we actually are (not perfectly fit and lithe dancers), Butoh explores how some part of life is grotesque. The movements are at times achingly slow, at others almost convulsive, and are not beautiful in the traditional sense.
Despite some truly poignant moments, “Incidents” felt more like an
installation piece than a play, and without the context of the program, the loose narrative and abstract ideas would have been impossible to follow. While the performance raised questions about the importance of history and memory, it mostly left me questioning the role of theater that requires explanation and research.
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
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August 16, 2010
Review: 'Metamorphoses'
In “Metamorphoses,” a modern adaptation of classical Greek myths, the spark that creates the universe is a cigarette lit by Zeus.
This mixture of ancient tales and anachronistic, irreverent accents (Katy Perry’s summer anthem “California Gurls” makes an appearance, and Pandora’s box is represented by an Apple laptop) is a hallmark of Zach Theatre’s production, directed by Dave Steakley.
“Metamorphoses” is a collage of familiar and lesser-known myths adapted from Ovid’s poem of the same name and originally directed by Mary Zimmerman.
One of the strongest vignettes is that of Orpheus and Eurydice, whose story is told twice. In Ovid’s version, Eurydice (Rachel Wiese) is bitten by a snake on her wedding day and taken to the underworld. Hades (Aaron Alexander) agrees to let her return with Orpheus (Frederic Winkler) if he agrees not to look back at her, but he can’t help himself and is forced to replay her loss over and over.
The staging of the second version, from a 1908 poem by Rainer Maria Rilke, stands out because of its sheer poetic simplicity and its surprising perspective twist. Here, Eurydice is enthralled with death and cannot even remember who her husband Orpheus is.
Another delightful scene is when a whiny and over-privileged Phaeton (David Christopher) tells his therapist (a pitch perfect Stephanie Dunnam) about his attempt to impress his distant father (Apollo, the God of the Sun) by driving the sun across the sky. You can guess how that one ends.
A twelve-foot wide swimming pool is the centerpiece of the action, and yes, there is a splash zone. Steakley has staged some lovely moments with the pool (assisted by Jason Amato’s skillful lighting), as when three men slowly paddle a boat carrying the doomed Ceyx to sea. And dropping dry ice into the water created a gloriously creepy effect. Some of the pool use, though fun, seemed a bit gratuitous.
Nicole Whiteside’s aerial choreography is eye-catching. Will Zinser performs an especially wild, reckless solo as a fury let out of Pandora’s box. The aerial acrobatics, along with the far out costumes (designed by Blair Hurry), tilt Zach Theatre’s version of “Metamorphoses” in a decidedly more surreal and circus-esque direction than Zimmerman’s original.
Despite a few too many bells and whistles, the timeless stories—with all their heartbreak, pride, desire, and folly—still shine through.
‘Metamorphoses’ continues 8 p.m Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through September 26. Zach Theatre’s Whisenhunt Stage, 1510 Toomey Road. Tickets $20-$44. www.zachtheatre.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
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August 11, 2010
Review: Shakespeare in Round Rock
If brevity is the soul of wit, then spontaneity is the heart of humor.
In Penfold Theatre’s production of “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged),” playing now through Aug. 22 at the Round Rock Amphitheater, moments of improvised hilarity abound, wonderfully complementing the scripted shenanigans of the play itself.
Though familiarity with the Shakespeare canon will add to your enjoyment of the show, it’s certainly not necessary. The 90-minute, three-man romp across all the plays is intended to be accessible to audiences that both love and/or hate the Bard.
The largest portions of the play are devoted to “Romeo and Juliet” and “Hamlet,” and even the most passing knowledge of these stories will suffice. Judd Farris acts as scholastic tour guide to Shakespeare, filling in the narrative and structural gaps with the cement of academic erudition — i.e. he’ll explain away all the bits that don’t make sense, and it’ll most likely be funny.
All three men bring rollicking energy and enthusiasm to a physically demanding piece. Performing as themselves, the actors’ improv backgrounds aid them immensely in a show that relies on audience interaction and off-the-cuff comedy.
Judd Farris dealt swiftly and hilariously with a recalcitrant audience volunteer on Friday, and the performers seem more comfortable ad-libbing humor than milking the jokes built into the script.
Nathan Jerkins keeps the performance on track, entertaining the audience and managing his fellow performers with the skill of a seasoned cat-herder.
Ryan Crowder stands out for his infectious vivacity, and you can’t help laughing at his hijinks. Yet Crowder demonstrates his acting virtuosity through the surprisingly solemn “what a piece of work is man” speech in the second half.
While those familiar with “Complete Works” might be disappointed by director Beth Burns’ changes to the “Othello” section, she more than compensates in the way she deals with the setbacks of the space itself.
Outdoor performances always risk natural intrusions, and in the relatively new (2007) amphitheater, auditory interruptions are inevitable. The players deal with this particular drawback with an ingenious bit of structured improvisation. Overall, the space is lovely despite the lack of amenities — that’s right, the bathrooms are in boxes — and it’s well worth the trip north to sit under the stars and watch some “Shakespeare.”
Admission is free, donations appreciated. Thursdays - Saturdays at 8 p.m. Encore performance Sunday, Aug. 22 at 6 p.m. Pre-show performances by a variety of local guest artists, see website for details. www.penfoldtheatre.org
Permalink | | Categories: Cate Blouke, Reviews, Theatre
August 9, 2010
Review: 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof'
Envy, avarice, and the inescapable mendacity of dysfunctional families — it’s hard to go wrong with Tennessee Williams. His Pulitzer Prize-winning plays inevitably capture the softer and sadder sides of human frailty, showing us the destructive potential of our uglier impulses.
Playing through Aug. 15 at City Theater and directed by Jeff Hinkle, “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” begins, like so many of Williams plays, with a family in crisis. Ostensibly there to celebrate the 65th birthday of “Big Daddy” Pollitt (Garry Peters), everyone has gathered on the family plantation in Mississippi. But Big Daddy has cancer, and everyone knows it but him, and the heirs are out for blood.
The show centers on the dysfunctional relationship between Brick (Tim Brown), the favorite son, and his wife Maggie (Rachel Mcginnis), the “cat.” Born poor, Maggie has clawed her way to the top by marrying into money, and she intends to stay there despite her husband’s alcoholic indifference to his father’s fortune.
Rachel McGinnis dominates the first half as the seductive and ever-glamorous Maggie. Her smooth dynamism captures our attention and keeps it, compensating for many of the show’s inconsistencies.
Some of the costume pieces are downright distracting (Big Mama’s ludicrous necklaces), as are some of the supporting characters — the screechy sister-in-law Mae and bizarrely sycophantic Reverend Tooker.
The play is distinctly Southern and colloquial, so the use of accents was probably unavoidable. Though the cast gives a valiant effort, their attempted accents generally prove forced and cumbersome, inhibiting what might have otherwise been more exceptional performances.
Garry Peters gives a convincing and sympathetic performance of the cantankerous patriarch, but Hinkle would have done well to encourage his actors to explore more nuances of anger in the second half. The confrontational scene between Brick and Big Daddy explodes into action, and keeps on exploding again and again and again. Instead of building intensity, the shouting merely serves to draw attention to the moments of calm.
Despite its drawbacks, the production does justice to the classic. The cast comes together to illustrate the repression and resentment spurred by family fortunes. Maybe no one is innocent, but even the guilty earn our compassion.
Showing Thursday - Saturday 8 p.m. Sunday 5:30 p.m. Tickets $15-20, $12 for students, Thursday all seats $10.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: Cate Blouke, Reviews, Theatre
August 7, 2010
New Work: Faith Gay and Raymond Uhlir
With a shared penchant for vivid color, Faith Gay and Raymond Uhlir make for a comely pair to be exhibiting new work side by side at D. Berman Gallery through Aug. 21.
But color is about all these two have in common.
Gay employs her signature sense of whimsy and delight, but this time instead of the found and vintage objects she’s used in the past, the Austin artist uses simple art and office supplies. Clear packing tape (miles of it), neon-hued labels, colored paper, cardboard and even a little glitter find their way into Gay’s latest creations. And from all these very unnatural materials, Gay fashions organic and nature-referencing objects.
It’s consumer culture masquerading as nature — cheap stuff deployed in our age of economic limitations to make lovely emblems to the natural world. Rainbows, lightening bolts and clouds are cartoonishly rendered in chunky shapes then assembled in layered compositions. Or else, Gay crafts alluring orbs of various sizes and shapes, stacking them in different arrangements on the gallery floor. In one such arrangement, “Zasterous,” more than 100 brightly colored orbs make an mound in one corner of the gallery.
And everything — the layered rainbows, the orbs — is wrapped again and again with clear packing tape. Gay’s ersatz natural objects may be joyful but they are hermetically sealed. For our protection or for the objects?
Uhlir, in his first showing at D.Berman, is a storyteller. Only in his series of paintings — called “Relatively Epic” — the complete story is kept elusively out of reach.
Uhlir’s meticulously stylized gouches and oils — with scrupiously pristine surfaces — mirror the look of 1980s television cartoons. Of varying sizes and shapes, Uhlir’s canvases spill out in a chronological order of sorts, provided you look for the thread of the storyline Uhlir presents. The tale is something about twins — one representing rationality, the other creativity — separated at birth in a mythological world who reunite.
But lacking any kind of detailed explanation from Uhlir — except for his crazy titles such as “Abandoned at Brith, the Daughter Will Grow Up Without Her Brother (Twins Aren’t for Everyone” — the tale leaves plenty of room for viewers to fill in with their own imagination.
And that’s just fine. After all, isn’t everyone’s reality a mythology of their own making?
“New Work: Faith Gay and Raymond Uhlir” continues through Aug. 21 at D. Berman Gallery. www.dbermangallery.com
Images: “Zasterous,” Faith Gay (top). “You Play Beautifully (But You Muse Work Harder. No Cowards. Quit that Moody Brooding,” Raymond Uhlir (botttom). Courtesy D. Berman Gallery.
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August 4, 2010
Review: "Early Girl" at Paladin
An all-female cast is a pretty rare find in theater. Even plays titled after female leads tend to be dominated by male-heavy cast lists — see “Mary Stewart,” “Hedda Gabler,” and any number of plays written by dead white men.
But the Paladin Theater Company, under the direction of Charles P. Sites, unearthed a play from the early ’80s in order to showcase the untapped resources of Austin’s female artists.
“Early Girl,” written by Caroline Kava and showing through Aug. 22 at Salvage Vanguard, accomplishes many of the young theater company’s purported goals. The show is charming, accessible, and keeps itself classy while dealing with potentially hazardous material.
Following the lives of six women working in a Midwestern brothel, the play, surprisingly, isn’t really about sex. It touches on themes of female exploitation and empowerment without delving into the seedier side of the world’s oldest profession.
Lana, the madam of the house (Wendy Zavaleta), claims strict adherence to rules as the only way to keep her “girls” safe and her business running efficiently. With strained enthusiasm, Zavaleta carefully explains the “cardinal rules” to naïve new girl, Lily (Keylee Paige Koop). Since health is one’s most valuable asset, no booze, no drugs, no dope, and every girl gets a weekly check-up for diseases. Oh, and no phone calls.
The tone is light and full of laughs as we watch the impact of Lily’s arrival. Bright-eyed, innocent and remarkably attractive, Lily plans to stay only one month — hoping to make $20,000 and get out.
Yet, inevitably, the lifestyle begins to take over, and her escape becomes less certain. Despite a motherly facade, Lana proves to be a cutthroat businesswoman at heart, willing to compromise herself and her girls for a little extra cash.
Kava’s play pits the women against each other, hinging on negative stereotypes and clichés of female jealousy, vanity and competition.
Lindsley Howard gives a lovely performance as Jean, the one woman in the house who knows the score and proves willing to take a stand, but the other women largely come off as caricatures.
Given the play is written by a TV actress, perhaps it’s unsurprising that the show seems more like a sitcom than an expose. But by playing up the comedy, the production misses out on opportunities for insight and depth.
The resolution is satisfying when one ignores the reality of those left behind, and ultimately the play is cute, though not particularly challenging. — Cate Blouke, special to the American-Statesman
“Early Girl” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 5:30 p.m. Sundays through Aug. 22, Salvage Vanguard Theater. 2803 Manor Road. $20 Fridays-Sundays, $15 Thursdays.
Permalink | | Categories: Cate Blouke, Reviews, Theatre
July 19, 2010
Review: 'Melancholy Play'
Bizarre things tend to happen in Sarah Ruhl’s plays.
Long lost twins separated at birth are reunited. People drink vials of tears. A hairdresser turns into an almond. (Yes, you read that right.)
Ruhl, who recently won a prestigious MacArthur Fellowship, is known for creating vibrant, surprising worlds that have their own unique brand of logic.
Palindrome Theatre brings the whimsical world of Ruhl’s “Melancholy Play” to life in a charming production directed by Kate Eminger.
In “Melancholy Play,” Tilly (a sweetly offbeat Helyn Rain Messenger) is a bank teller who is always sad. The sound of the rain makes her sad, as does trimmed hair lying on the floor of a salon. When she goes to talk with her therapist Lorenzo (a very funny Jude Hickey), who speaks in an unidentifiable European accent, he falls in love with her sexy sadness.
And so does everyone else in the play—a tailor named Frank (Nathan Brockett), a hairdresser named Frances (Corley Pillsbury), and Frances’s partner Joan (Bernadette Nason). Everyone falls for Tilly because she reminds them of their own unfelt emotions. Or as Joan puts it, “She gives me a sexy, sad feeling, like I’m in a European city before the war.”
Eventually, surrounded by all of this love and affection, Tilly becomes happy. This dramatic change does not please her suitors, who fell in love with her particular brand of romantic melancholy. From here on, the play takes some seriously surreal turns.
Palindrome Theatre’s production feels intimate and fresh, and the cast brings good comic timing and bright energy to the increasingly absurd comedy. Evocative original music by Matt Hines underscores the action.
As funny as it is, “Melancholy Play” seems to be arguing that Americans have lost touch with a certain kind of contemplative sadness. People practice positive thinking and plaster on smiles as they attempt to cover up underlying melancholy.
Perhaps, Ruhl seems to suggest, there is beauty in spending an afternoon gazing out the window at the pouring rain, feeling sad. On the other hand, the play’s eventual embrace of joy suggests that it’s OK to give in to happiness, too.
‘Melancholy Play’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 5 p.m. Sundays through Aug. 8. Austin Playhouse, Penn Field, 3601 S. Congress. $20 general admission, $15 students, seniors.
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
Review: Cavani String Quartet & The Bad Plus
When Dave King, the drummer for the modern jazz trio The Bad Plus, pulled out two E.T. toys, to play beeps and static, it became clear that the Austin Chamber Music Festival is a fearlessly expanding our definition of chamber music.
The Cavani String Quartet and The Bad Plus each played to a Bates Recital Hall near capacity, drawing deserved standing ovations.
The Bad Plus write original works that show a fondness for complex rhythms, discordant harmonies, frenzied energy and surprise. The trio exudes the complete confidence of three musicians at the peak of their powers. It was enthralling to watch.
King, on percussion, flares his arms on, around and (literally) under his drum kit, looking like the Muppet’s’ Swedish chef, playing with an contagious grin that defined the entire set. His repertoire of clanging bells and other musical objects d’art made it difficult to look elsewhere; you can’t be sure what’s coming.
A small complaint was that Reed Anderson’s bass was often drowned out. He’d be striking the strings furiously, but was nearly inaudible.
The encore brought some covers; “Film,” by Aphex twin, and Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Both were well received, but, were no better than their originals; the lyrical “Knows The Difference,” or percussion-centered “Thriftstore Jewelry.” If you’ve missed the Bad Plus live, don’t let it happen again.
The Cavani Quartet, formerly artists in residence at UT, began Beethoven’s Opus 18, No. 2 with light and precise playing as the audience held deathly still.
Their entries were uniformly perfect, though the piece relies disproportionately on the first violinist, and Annie Fullard warbled through a few challenging trills; the evening’s only technical issues.
Next, a Szymanowski quartet worked as a palate cleanser: a dense, dissonant work, that used pizzicato like percussion, along with a few wild glissandos that drew giggles from the audience.
The music was cinematic, eerie in minor chords, starting with the snapshot of an idea, only to scrap it and move on. A challenging work, wonderfully played.
The Brahms Quintet in F Minor was, for many, the big draw. Michelle Schuman, the festival’s director, featured on piano, and introduced it, saying “If this is what classical music is, I want to bathe in it every day of my life.”
She was right. Cavani played a wonderful, complex Brahms; lush harmonies that storm dramatically and pull out just about as much sound as possible from five musicians.
The Austin Chamber Music Festival continues through July 31. See www.austinchambermusic.org.
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'The Virgin with 10,000 Arrows'
Though we may think we’ve heard the story a thousand times before, “The Virgin with 10,000 Arrows,” written by University of Texas graduate Jason Tremblay and now showing at Austin Playhouse produced by Debutantes & Vagabonds, gives a gorgeous and invigorating new take on the tale of an artist who sells his soul for fame and money.
Asking, “Is there a worse crime than faking it?” the young painter, Andres Marca Relli (Travis Emery) opts out of the cycle of consumption by repossessing his paintings and jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. Combining visual art, live music and beautiful physical theater, the play answers Andres’ question — everything here is alive and real, even inspiration (eerily personified by Carole Metellus) — except the main character.
Spanning the four seconds between Andres’ leap from the railing and the moment he hits the water, the two-hour play is a series of flashbacks narrated by an amicable and sympathetic security guard (Don Stewart). “Virgin” illustrates issues of collaboration and copyright, ownership and integrity, as the cast paints a giant canvas that the audience is invited to take at the end of every show.
Predictably, even those close to Andres let him down, but Kim Adams brings a lovely subtlety and range of expression to her role as Jaina, Andres’ assistant and love interest.
Pea (Noel Gaulin) plies the artist with a pharmaceutical cornucopia of temptation, and Gaulin’s beat-boxing entrances punctuate his scenes like the ticking of a time bomb.
Emily Everidge as the avaricious gallery owner, and Eric Porter as the unscrupulous art critic, dutifully fulfill their roles as one-dimensional villains.
Under the direction of Francisco Rodriguez, the creative team produces a stunning tableau and lighting designer Ray Oppenheimer’s chimerical play of shadows effectively situates us in the dream world of Andres’ death.
Though clearly a master of stage business, Rodriguez would have done well to focus more energy on the dialogue. Often, moments of mute intensity are undermined by the exaggerated or forced articulations that follow.
Travis Emery enlivens his role with heartrending physicality, particularly in the seconds before Andres jumps and various striking moments when he wields his paints, but at times, Emery’s speeches fall flat. The intermission came as a surprise to the audience and Emery struggles to project the oral sincerity for which he strives.
Ultimately, however, the play is gorgeous, innovative and engaging. The musical accompaniment, composed and performed by Joey Reyes, sets the tone — simultaneously soothing and supernatural, and absolutely worth witnessing.
“The Virgin with 10,000 Arrows” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays, 2 p.m. Sundays through Aug. 1, Larry L. King Theater, Austin Playhouse. www.bohemianblitz.com
Cate Blouke is an American-Statesman freelance critic.
July 13, 2010
Review: 'Who is T. Henry Baudecliffe?'
The idea behind “Who is T. Henry Baudecliffe?,” a new improv show at the Hideout Theater, is original, if not instantly appealing. The story is this: In late 2009, Thomas Henry Baudecliffe, a resident of so-called St. Mark’s Community Home in North Austin, passed away, leaving a trove of uniquely strange, whimsical and paranoid marker drawings.
The discovery of a new outsider artist has sparked the imagination of the improvisers who have come together to act out the scenarios that might have led to Baudecliffe’s bizarre drawings. The sketches address a number of themes, either invented or “biographical”: Nazis and robots (occasionally Nazi robots), the dangers of big cities, illness, the idealizing of rural life and predatory eagles.
Things start promisingly, with a Gothic band of buskers playing a dirge on ukulele and percussion. The child-like lyrics (“Why do cars go ‘beep beep beep’?”) are a highlight. From then, we’re led to a series of short documentary interviews of Austinites who’ve been inspired by Baudecliffe’s art.
The story begins in earnest with Curtis Luciani in the role of History Channel-styled narrator-cum-cultural anthropologist, who has the evening’s most challenging job: to guide the audience through a Baudecliffe story, and, more importantly, to set the scene and shape of the entire show.
Going in, it’s nearly impossible to know what to expect. The drawings and some documentary videos can be previewed online —www.whoisthenrybaudecliffe.com— but they offer no clues about how an improv show might form around them. So, to begin each night the narrator has a member of the audience pick one of the Baudecliffe fragments, (ours was caterpillar and a cave full of angels), and the cast and narrator piece together a an improvised tale.
The story that resulted featured the Jones family and their son, Tommy, as he is cast out of his cold rural home for coming into contact with an eskimo girl. He’s forced to flee to industrial Chicago with nothing but a bag of oil on his back, as he meets the evil John D. Rockefeller and discovers the city’s hidden Eskimo labor force. (It made enough sense at the time.)
Roy Janik, as Tommy, was the show’s principal joy, playing the straight man against the absurd scenarios forming around him. His Tommy Jones was a naive child along the lines of Beaver Cleaver, though his best moments come when he nearly pops out of character to question the logic of the story’s absurdities.
Matching Janik’s wit is co-director Kaci Beeler, who provided early laughs as an Eskimo with a peculiar speaking pattern; like a more mystical Yoda, but with long, hilarious delays.
It’s unfortunate that after a strong and funny opening, the plot’s progress lulled as the characters moved to the more dramatic city scene. This section bounced between unfulfilled half-ideas that never quite found a rhythm. In this, what became the main sequence, the improvisers occasionally strained to find the cohesion and communication needed to steer the plot where they wanted it.
It is tough to complain about a show that dares to start with such weirdness, because this is a show with a high degree of difficulty. But with a format that depends so much on the lone narrator, sometimes spontaneous results get cut off, or less fruitful ideas are allowed to play for too long.
The production values are quite high. The soundtrack was brilliantly in step with the action, helping to set the mood, and even — as in the final triumphant sequence — evoking even more emotion.
Much of the movement is outstanding. Whether they’re making up John D. Rockefeller’s sleigh (pulled by polar bears) or forming young Tommy’s vision of human-sized caterpillars, the cast synchronizes beautifully.
Ultimately, the conceit of Baudecliffe and his many fragmentary stories create confusion, instead of opening opportunities for improv. It was surely a fascinating starting point, but they could have chosen almost any person, fictional or otherwise, and landed on a more favorable path.
“Who is T. Henry Baudecliffe?” plays 8 p.m. Saturdays through Aug. 18 at the Hideout Theater through Aug. 28. www.hideouttheatre.com
Luke Quinton is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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July 12, 2010
Review: 'Circle Mirror Transformation'
At the beginning of Hyde Park Theatre’s engaging and hilarious production of “Circle Mirror Transformation,” by up-and-coming playwright Annie Baker, the actors lie on the floor, trying to count to ten as a group without two people speaking at the same time.
Is it a silly game, or is it a metaphor for being in the moment and learning to be aware of the people around you?
Well, it’s both. As your drama teacher probably told you, the way people play games tells you a lot about who they are, and who they want to be.
“Circle Mirror Transformation” takes place in an adult creative drama class led by Marty (Katherine Catmull), an overly positive teacher who speaks in a soothing voice and tries to rally participants to self-understanding.
Her students are a quirky bunch. Schultz (Kenneth Wayne Bradley) is a down-to-earth guy who was recently divorced but still wears his wedding ring. Lauren (Xochitl Romero) is an out-of-place teenager who shuffles through class and wants to know when they are going to do some “real acting.” Rounding out the crew are Theresa (Rebecca Robinson), a super-enthusiastic and flirtatious actress, and James (Ken
Webster), Marty’s deadpan husband, who is clearly in the class as a favor to his wife.
Over several weeks, the characters play out their own serious interpersonal drama through exercises that range from simple (introduce a partner to the class) to more complex (have other classmates pose as a bed, a tree, and a baseball glove as they try to re-create a childhood memory). By the time Marty urges the class to “write down a secret you’ve never told anyone,” you just know things are about to implode.
This southwest premiere of “Circle Mirror Transformation,” directed by Ken Webster, is fast-paced, funny and ultimately quite moving. The ensemble is uniformly excellent, smoothly playing many layers of subtext beneath all the silliness.
Theater insiders (or anyone who’s ever taken an acting class) will absolutely love this play. Others may not get all the jokes, but are bound to still be riveted by the way the characters reveal themselves, slowly, through the process of learning to connect.
‘Circle Mirror Transformation’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through August 7 at Hyde Park Theatre, 511 W. 43rd St. Tickets $19 on Friday and Saturday; Thursdays are pay-what-you-can. www.hydeparktheatre.org
Claire Canavan in an American-Statesman arts freelancer.
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June 28, 2010
Review: 'The Drowsy Chaperone'
The musical “The Drowsy Chaperone” begins in the dark. A small, male voice explains the prayer he offers every time the theater lights dim. Among his humorous pleas, he hopes every performance will be “just fun”—a story with a few good songs.
The opening bit is amusing, like much of the musical, which opened at Zach Theatre Saturday and runs through August 29.
But the musical, a Broadway hit with music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison and book by Bob Martin and Don McKellar, pretends that its jokes — often racist ones — have no effect. They do.
This theatrically polished production directed by Nick Demos rehearses decades-old racist and homophobic stereotypes under the guise of critiquing those stereotypes. But the critique is never center stage. Center stage belongs to the largely white cast enacting stereotypes of Asian people, “Latin” men and stupid women. Based on the uproarious laughter from Saturday night’s audience, these stereotypes still register as humorous, not harmful.
The opening voice belongs to a musical fan, named Man in Chair (Martin Burke), sitting in his living room imagining a production of a 1920s musical via a cast album. His fantasy musical, “The Drowsy Chaperone” unfolds amidst Michael Raiford’s gorgeous set as the Man comments on the slim plot — a nearly botched wedding between movie and stage celebrities, Robert Martin (Matt Redden) and Janet Van de Graff (Jill Blackwood). Vaudeville producer Feldzieg (Scotty Roberts) tries to foil the marriage, but Martin and Janet manage that on their own. Instead, Feldzieg’s machinations bring together Janet’s boozy chaperone (Meredith McCall) and Zorro-esque idiot Aldolpho (Jamie Goodwin).
It’s not a compelling story. The Man in the Chair is meant to be the real entertainment.
The made-up musical has its funny moments, particularly when poking fun at musicals. Performed by Wright, Janet’s tour de force, “Show Off,” in which the actress announces she’s done showing off, while engaging in an unending diva turn, is fantastic in its excess. In “As We Stumble Along,” a poke at musicals with a great climatic song that makes no sense in the narrative, McCall’s vodka-drenched chaperone is excellent. Here Man in Chair’s commentary adds depth and honors musical fans’ encyclopedic obsession with the genre. In the rest of the first act, his insistent commentary works like a dinner guest who explains everyone’s jokes rather than letting people enjoy the humor.
The musical’s second act is when the real trouble comes. Man in Chair returns for Act II, puts on the second cast album, and then runs to the restroom. Out fly actors dressed in faux-Chinese costumes. They squint their eyes, suck in their lips and pronounce their “Rs” as “Ws,” while singing with McCall, dressed as a white British teacher. Yes, it’s a parody of “The King and I,” but it’s also yellowface without the face paint.
Man in Chair returns and, in horror, makes a quick quip about those awful racial stereotypes of the past, and then turns to yet another racial stereotype: his Latino maid who doesn’t speak English who always misunderstands his directions. He quickly apologizes for the joke, but the theater has already filled with laughter. The insiders in this musical have clearly been named: those of us liberal enough to know we should apologize for racism, but not progressive enough to stop repeating racist jokes.
Perhaps the saddest outsider role in “The Drowsy Chaperone” belongs to Man in Chair. In the musical’s one earnest turn, the man — whose sexuality is never fully named, but whose queerness is heavily suggested — tells of being a gay man trapped in a straight marriage. For a moment, Burke turns off the gay minstrel clown show, revealing a pained interior. He snaps out of it just in time to see “The Drowsy Chaperone” to its end, imagining a finale filled with four heterosexual marriages. Man in Chair can’t even imagine himself in his own fantasy! Like all the gay clown characters familiar from pop culture (think Jack from “Will and Grace”) Man in Chair is a straight fantasy of gay people: happy, funny and desexualized.
Thankfully Man in Chair does get invited into to a final song. But no jaunty hat and song, nor one-liner critique can undo this musical’s perilous laughter.
‘The Drowsy Chaperone’ continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through Aug. 29 at Zach Theatre. www.zachtheatre.org.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
A correction has been appended to this post. The role of Janet Van de Graff is played by Jill Blackwood.
June 21, 2010
Review: 'Becky's New Car'
Becky Foster has hit a rut along life’s highway when we meet her — vaccuum cleaner in hand — at the start of Steven Dietz’s comedy “Becky’s New Car,” now getting a deftly staged production at Zach Theatre.
It’s not that life is going so badly for Becky (Lauren Lane). Her good-natured roofer husband. Joe (Chris Gibson), is still loving after 28 years of marriage even if he hasn’t gotten around to fixing their own roof. Chris, Becky’s 26-year-old son (a kinetic Josh Meyer) is a perpetual psychology graduate school still living at home and spouting psychobabble about every family interaction. And Becky’s deadend desk job at a car dealership demands far too much and give far too little.
But when the wealthy, lonesome yet bumbling widower Walter Flood (Lucien Douglas, at pitch-perfect deadpan) shows up at the showroom to buy nine new cars for his employers, Becky is just malcontent enough to let him believe that she is available and that she, too, just lost a spouse.
Dietz — who teaches playwriting at the University of Texas — stakes his entire snappy contemporary comedy on this all-too-familiar comedic device of misunderstanding. But if Dietz doesn’t strike out along any adventurous theatrical territory with “Becky’s New Car,” he does take the audience on a smooth, clever ride down a familiar comedic road. (That familiarity explains why Dietz’s considerable roster of plays are some of the most frequently produced by regional theaters.)
Directed by Dietz, the Zach production sparkles thanks in no small part to a cast with whip-smart comedic timing who manage the ever-escalating farcical action with charm and sincerity even if the script doesn’t deeply develop their characters.
As Becky, Lane (former star of the sit-com “The Nanny” and now teaching acting at Texas State University) projects just the right combination middle-aged, middle American ennui and likeable spunk even though that gets Becky’s life in a jumble.
Dietz toys with the nature of the theater’s “fourth wall,” at times, and has Becky engaging directly with the audience, offering them beverages, asking for help with her desk work. But that sometime feels a little hokey. And though Dietz knows how to deliver the punch lines, the plot feels as predictable as finding a pothole on an urban street.
Still, Becky and her midlife crisis grows on us and we want to stick around to see what happens to her even if we can already guess which road she’ll take.
‘Becky’s New Car’ continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through July 11 at Zach Theatre. www.zachtheater.org
June 20, 2010
Review: Califa Arts Collaborative
It’s been the year for Ballet Austin dancers to venture out on their own. The latest example: Califa Arts Collaborative’s premiere performance Friday at Salvage Vanguard’s smaller theatre. BA company members past and present joined with local visual artists and musicians in three new pieces. The sold out show — people had to be turned away from the 6:30 performance — suggests there’s ample support in Austin for the new group.
The tiny space forced intimacy on the audience, offering a close-up view of lovely dancers. The evenings’ two larger pieces, “The Greatest of These” by former BA dancer Reginald Harris and “Hiding Places” by Michelle Thompson, benefited from the dancers’ professionalism. They found a way to move freely and fluidly despite space constraints.
Lisa Del Rosario’s comedic solo “Home with Yellow Fever” was the evening’s loosest, most comfortable work. Del Rosario plopped into the piece, springing up and over a well-worn couch. Through three songs by band “Yellow Fever,” Del Rosario battled her living room furniture hilariously. She rode an ottoman like a horse, turned a love seat into a carnival ride, and made a fall off a sofa arm into a parody of a death-defying cliff leap. The three sections, particularly the central dance that saw Del Rosario emerge from beneath a cozy Snuggie, felt like fits of comedic sleepwalking (sleepdancing?). Often Del Rosario only had to widen her eyes or scrunch her face to evoke laughter, slyly sidestepping slapstick in favor of more nuanced physical comedy.
Harris’ piece, described in program notes as being about “the relationships I have with my husband and my friends, had a warm sense of community built from a variety of couples’ dances. It’s heartening to see a series of couples, some composed of a man and a woman, some composed of two men, and the expansion of choreographic possibilities that happens when choreographers see multiple ways to pair dancers.
In Michelle Thompson’s “Hiding Places,” the only piece on the program to
explicitly highlight visual artists’ and musicians’ contributions, there was a
whole lot of hurtin’ going on. Live musicians accompanied each piece, ranging from
big groups to quiet solos, and the band’s quality was good, even sometimes
evocative. Projections of Caroline Wrights’ videos of paint slowly, unpredictably
webbing its away across a wet paper surface worked as colorful, vertical
counterpoint to the arcing, aching choreography. But with little change in tempo and
few attempts to counter the slow, sad song lyrics, the piece grew visually and
emotionally monotonous.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: KDH Dance Company and Guests
Three dance companies on one bill do not constitute a crowd.
Kathy Dunn Hamrick Dance Company’s hosted Austin’s Chaddick Dance Theater and College Station’s Armstrong/Bergeron Dance Company Thursday at Ballet Austin’s AustinVentures Theatre. The three companies’ aesthetics overlap significantly. All three tread in the mainstream of American modern dance, shifting between asking dancers to make clear shapes with their bodies and focusing more on energetic qualities in other moments.
But each group (all now somewhat familiar to Austin dance audiences) also have distinctive strengths. Cheryl Chaddick directs a gorgeously diverse company, who excel in their soft phrasing. Armstrong/Bergeron, still a young ensemble, has terrific intensity. And KDH continues to have one of the strongest, most polished ensembles in the area.
Chaddick offered only one piece, “Ask No More,” a lengthy meditation on pre-Raphaelite paintings of communities of women. It was difficult to discern an arc through the entire, multi-sectioned work. Most of the choreography emphasized women coming together, lending a hand or a shoulder. The sense of community was most compelling in the barest movement of the piece. Four women, draped in long toga tunics, shifted almost statuesquely over and on top of a small bench. Chaddick’s eye for less movement being more evocative can be quite keen. In larger sections, Chaddick and Lynn Forney had a stunning softness in their joints, gifting a sense of pleasure and ease to the work. Kristen Studer’s well-phrased solo felt like one of the most complete dances in the entire evening.
KDH contributed two works: Lisa Nick’s fluffy, physical “Intervention: the day by BFF gave me the real scoop” and Hamrick’s “Her Majesty’s Well-Played Adventures.” Nicks has an excellent hand on making over-the-top choices in everything from facial expressions to music selection to make accessible comedic dances. The six dancers in Hamrick’s piece looked fantastic together—on stage and on the video projected behind them. But the two parts of the work, the projected and the live, did not gel.
Armstrong/Bergeron’s three works demonstrated the company’s continued growth. A duet, “And at 36, she hit a crossroads,” featured Sara Kitterman and Andrea Sheridan walking across a long line of more than 40 pairs of shoes. One seemed content to choose from the selection offered, while the other tested the floor on her bare feet. The piece initially composed an intriguing question about conformity versus individualism, but too easily settled into an either/or answer to the question—wear the pre-set shoes or strike out on your own—rather than exploring a variety of identities the presence of so many different shoes seemed to suggest.
Five women pushed through Kathleen Byrne’s “Discard the Broken Cassette” with
precision and clarity. The program also included company co-artistic director Carisa
Armstrong in her solo “Fallen,” a hearkening back to modern dance’s origins in
the solo work of strong women.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts writer.
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June 16, 2010
Review: BAM Fest's 'New Dance'
A person’s posture can be very revealing. The dancers of Dallas Black Dance Theatre struck defiant, powerful postures in every moment of their performance Tuesday, part of the Black Arts Movement’s New Dance program at the Carver Center.
DBDT and the other companies on the program, Creative Outlet Dance Theatre of Brooklyn and Austin’s Ballet Afrique Youth Ensemble, displayed many of the best features of dance borne in the African American community. All the evening’s dancers were strong and precise physically and artistically.
DBDT has become a fixture of BAM’s programming, and it’s easy to know why. The company’s repertory includes new stars in modern dance choreography, like Camille A. Brown and Nejla Yatkin, as well as treasures of American dance history.
Brown’s duet “Our Honeymoon is Over,” performed by Nycole Ray and Zach Law Ingram to Aretha Franklin’s deep crooning, offered a refreshing look at familiar choreographic structures. The dancers’ fast, frenzied entrance in perfect unison did not communicate a solidarity between them, as unison movement often does, but instead demonstrated two people in the same space, unable to speak to one another. It was the danced equivalent of a screaming match that has gotten so loud no one can be heard. The duet also rejected the easy end to couple dances: resolution. Brown allows Ray, the woman, to decide she’s had enough, leaving Ingram behind at the fight’s end.
But a man had the final say in Asadata Dafora’s classic 1932 solo “Awassa Astrige/Ostrich.” Christopher McKenzie, Jr., embodied the regal ostrich, carefully replicating the characteristics that connect African and African American dance, particularly in his undulating spine and grounded, mobile pelvis. (Dafora came to New York from his home country of Sierra Leone in 1929.) Historians’ emphasis on movement vocabulary in defining African American dance can overshadow the spirit of the dancing. McKenzie did not just do the steps the right way. He stilled the sold-out audience, commanding our attention and calling forth dancing spirits.
DBDT’s other offerings included an excerpt from Yatkin’s solo “Journey to the One: A Tango,” which is practically duet between Janine Beckles and a long, rippling red skirt; and two dances by company members, Richard A. Freeman, Jr.’s balletic drama “Trial & Error” and an excerpt from Ingram’s “Phoenix.”
Jamel Gaines’ Creative Outlet company was a new, welcome addition to BAM. The company has a strong core of dancers, who can handle Gaines’ mix of African and modern vocabulary, as well as an ample number of virtuosic tricks. Bahiyah Sayyed Gaines stands out. She moves with lovely ease and musicality, clearly making choices about when to punctuate the choreography and when to slide gracefully through a long phrase.
Ballet Afrique’s Youth Ensemble opened the evening, displaying solid training in a variety of styles. There’s reason to hope Austin might one day see one of these young women dancing with the kind of companies that filled the rest of the evening’s program.
The Black Arts Movement Festival continues through Saturday. www.bamfestaustin.org
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: Conspirare's Bach Mass in B Minor
Two years ago, Austin’s Grammy-nominated choir Conspirare stunned when they performed Verdi’s Requiem in the then-brand new Long Center for the Performing Arts. In a way it was a concert that defined a moment in Austin’s cultural history — a spotless, virtuosic performance and the first proof that the Long Center’s Dell Hall is a first-rate listening room for choral music.
Sunday night, Conspirare the choir, led by Craig Hella Johnson, returned to Dell Hall for another monumental masterpiece of the choral repetoire — Bach’s Mass in B Minor.
And while not as breathtaking and daunting a performance as the once-in-a-lifetime Verdi was two years ago, the Bach nevertheless proved Johnson and his vocalists are superb interpreters, able to bring freshness to even an oft-performed piece like the B Minor Mass.
Presented in collaboration with the Victoria Bach Festival — of which Johnson is artistic director — Sunday’s concert featured the Victoria Bach Festival Orchestra, a 31-piece period instrument ensemble that provide an authentic underpinning to the Baroque masterpiece.
Among the soloists soprano Kathlene Ritch and tenor David Farwig, both regular Conspriare soloists, delivered sensitive performances. Soprano Abigail H. Lennox and tenor Matt Tresler deftly handled the duet “Domine Deus.” Alto Wendy Bloom sang the “Agnus Dei” with delicate melancholy.
Conspriare recently announced its 2010-2011 season at www.conspirare.org. Next June the choir will once again return to the Long Center with the Victoria Bach Festival, this time with Roberto Sierra’s Missa Latina, a critically acclaimed work by the Puerto Rican-born composer.
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June 15, 2010
Review: Tapestry Dance Company's 'Friends in Time'
Tapestry Dance Company’s shows often feel part performance, part family reunion.
Saturday’s “Friends in Time,” the faculty concert for the company’s annual summer tap festival, continued in the same friendly vein. The show featured several of Tapestry’s current dancers, including artistic director Acia Gray, as well as a full slate of out-of-town guests from the best of the national tap scene.
The most spectacular, moving performance of the evening came from a dancer who was both a guest and a hometown hero. Jason Janas was a strong member of Tapestry’s ensemble for years, and now has returned with an even more sophisticated style. Janas evokes a mood with his entire body, letting the rhythms of his lower body travel up through his torso and into his face. Dancing to the live music of the Eddy Hobizal Jazz Trio playing an almost unrecognizable, but evocative version of Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror,” Janas looked liked a genius made of rubber, soul and sound.
The evening’s other guests demonstrated the wide varieties of tap from Terry Brock’s classical tap in “Essence of Ellie,” an ode to Eleanor Powell’s style, to Bril Barrett’s fast, hard-stomping, stand-up comedy bit.
Among the Tapestry regulars, Brenna Kuhn highlighted the syncopation of tap as not just a matter of the feet. Kuhn continues to develop a complex battery of rhythms in her shoulders and arms.
The annual showcase is always the culmination of the festival, and the sense of ongoing learning fostered by ‘Soul to Sole’ filled the theatre. The audience, which seemed to have a large number of students in attendance, could not have been more excited about the show. Every single number got a standing ovation. It’s hard to argue with that.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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June 12, 2010
Review: Austin Playhouse's "Jacquel Brel is Alive and Well in Living in Paris"
Mid-century composer/lyricist Jacques Brel wrote expressive cabaret songs that seamlessly fuse romance with cynicism and blend a particular kind of European world-weariness with a gleeful but urgent folly.
Belgian by birth, living most of his adult life in Paris, Brel came of age in a post-WWII Europe still racked by deprivation and darkness. Teasing out the conventions of tradition — social, romantic, political — were all fodder for his remarkable oeuvre that spanned the 1950s and the 1960s. (Arguably his best known song is the often-covered “Ne me quitte pas.”)
Brel’s songs were little known in the U.S. until 1968 when an American musical revue of his songs, Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris, translated by Mort Shuman and Eric Blau, debuted on Broadway to great acclaim, even if some criticized Shuman and Blau for lightening-up much of Brel’s cynical gist.
And in the current Austin Playhouse production of “Jacquel Brel is Alive and Well in Living in Paris,” unfortunately even less of Brel’s complexity shines through.
A cast of six— Boni Hester, Huck Huckaby, Corely Pillsbury, Rick Roemer, Gretech Weihe and Jacob Trussell (standing last weekend for Nathan Brockett) — seem simply to mark their way through the 23 songs.
There’s little theater or drama underpinning this musical revue, directed by Don Toner. What was missing was enchantment, the urgency of Brel’s voice. And for that matter any sense of nostalgia seemed lacking, strange for songs that are acutely products of a certain time and place.
Of all the cast, Trussell brought the only moments of theater and dynamism to the show, amply adding character, acting and emotion to his two solos, “Bachelor’s Dance” and “Bulls.”
Brel, who frequently performed his own songs, had a wild-eyed frenetic style suffused with an urgency in his tale telling and a rawness of emotion.
The Austin Playhouse production, unfortunately, captures none of that, leaving Brel’s fine work to languish in lacklustreness.
‘Jacquel Brel is Alive and Well in Living in Paris’ continues through June 27 at the Austin Playhouse. www.austinplayhouse.com
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June 4, 2010
Francesca Gabbiani's fun with paper
Francesca Gabbiani’s vividly colored cut-paper collages are steeped in the creepier, weirder side of pop culture and culture in general. Horror movies, the films of Jean Cocteau, hippy jewelry sporting the images of cannabis leaves, Lewis Carroll - it’s all fodder for the Los-Angeles-based Gabbiani who’s getting her third solo show at Lora Reynolds Gallery.
No wonder there’s a familiarity to Gabbiani’s work: It’s a mash-up of cultural references that many of us have stuffed in our minds.
These images of people-less interior scenes or odd arrangements of flora and fauna are cinema-esque, quasi-psychedelic, stuffed with pop culture references and suffused with a kind of adolescent melancholia. An ornate boudoir sits empty. An owl and a fox pose next to a heap of odd treasures.
Gabbiani’s is not intellectually deep stuff, but it’s fun.
Read the full review here.
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June 1, 2010
Review: 'Machinal'
It’s not hard to see why in the last few decades ‘Machinal,’ the 1928 Broadway success and expressionist jewel of a play by Sophie Treadwell, is a favorite piece of repertoire for brainiac, experimental theater-makers.
Though it’s frequently studied as a quintessential example of expressionist theater — episodic dramas of the early 20th-century characterized by highly stylized speech and plots that typically illuminate a struggle against bourgeois authority — “Machinal” was over-looked by directors for years. Thanks to some well-received revivals in the 1990s, Treadwell’s trenchant drama is back in circulation.
And thanks to award-winning Austin director Dustin Wills, we have a penetrating, creatively original new production playing at Salvage Vanguard Theater through June 13.
Produced under the aegis of Wills’ new collaborative company Paper Chairs, this “Machinal” preserves the period character of Treadwell’s 1920s milieux. And yet keen, nuanced acting across the cast and a brilliantly conceived set by Lisa Laratta add a very contemporary smartness. This “Machinal” proves a point — Treadwell’s is a timeless play.
And it’s not an easy one, for sure.
A reporter as well as a playwright, Treadwell was assigned to cover the sensational 1927 trial of a stenographer named Ruth Snyder who, along with her lover, murdered her husband. Snyder’s conviction led to the first execution of a woman in an electric chair, a grisly event that was captured by a reporter wearing a hidden camera that became a widely published media sensation.
But what distinguishes “Machinal” from other social-protest cautionary tales of its time, is that Treadwell tells her tale through a female — proto-feminist? — lens.
Only identified as Young Woman, the central character — an evocatively brittle Chase Crossno — is caught in the zeitgeist of pre-Depression America, trapped in a mind-numbing job in a unidentified business, pressed by her money-hungry mother to marry her boss (a brilliantly creepy Tom Truss) whom she detests and pushed forward by the societal pressures to marry because what else is a woman to do. The woman’s story unfolds in nine clearly delineated episodes: workplace, home, honeymoon, speakeasy and so on.
Though the woman finds brief happiness in an affair with a man she meets in a speakeasy (played by a riveting Gabriel Luna), even that eventually dooms her when she commits the ultimate act. And then, well — you’ll see the electric chair when you enter the theater.
As a director, Wills relishes in Treadwell’s flattened yet highly stylized language. Devoid of nuance and emotion, it’s telegraphic, delivered machine-gun fast by the nameless office workers as they madly punch at vintage typewriters and adding machines. Or else the deadpan speech remains adrift between characters, never carrying any meaning, underscoring the chasms between these machine-like people
Wills and Laratta set the drama in the round ringing the stage with rows of mismatched chairs. In the center, Laratta’s made a wooden stage platform pocked by vintage cabinet doors of various sizes which characters open and close to pull out or put away props. Indeed the stage is a platform of trap doors that seems to menace every action.
To great effect, Wills adds to Treadwell’s sparse stylized language with a vocabulary of sparse stylized movements all his own. With rhythmic almost military precision ensemble members move on and off the stage, at times even marching machine-like around the audience seating areas. And Jeff Jones’ sound design blankets the production with an ever-changing cacophony of machine-like noises.
With this ‘Machinal,’ Wills delivers an affecting, commanding version of a potent American play.
“Machinial” plays 8 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays through June 13 at Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. $15-$30, Thursdays pay-what-you-wish. www.paperchairs.com
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Review: 'The Wife of Bath's Tale'
‘Things never change, do they?’ asks an effervescent woman in an oversized hat as she browses through the Cliff Notes to Chaucer?s ?The Canterbury Tales.’
‘It’s always the woman?s fault.’
A new Vortex production of ‘The Wife of Bath’s Tale,’ (adapted by Lorella Loftus and Shekhar Govind, and directed by Karen Jambon) seeks to address this unfairness by letting one of Chaucer?s most famous characters speak for herself.
And speak she does! The Wife of Bath (Loftus) is a vivacious storyteller who regales the audience with bawdy tales of her multiple marriages. Loftus and Govind have tweaked and expanded the text, so that here the Wife of Bath is fragmented into a series of different women throughout time.
As the show opens, a bumbling contemporary version of the Wife of Bath boards a bus to Canterbury and prattles on about her five marriages to her quiet, prim seatmate (Andy Agne).
Other versions of the character include a woman in England in 1707 who addresses her critics, and a schoolteacher in 1918 who teaches a group of female students some of her rules for marriage (which include ‘please for profit’ and ‘assert yourself’).
The Wife of Bath is a fun character — rebellious, lusty, eccentric — and Loftus imbues her with great heart and salty wit. She is also complicated, revealing how she manipulated and dominated some of her former husbands, other times professing to be truly in love.
To guide us through the tale, original illustrations by Ann Marie Gordon flash by on a projection screen, with the occasional live action interlude featuring the silent but highly expressive Agne.
This is primarily a one-person show, and Loftus proves herself to be a lively performer. The production itself still needs a bit more time to gel. Technical kinks need to be worked out, and pacing problems need to be addressed.
These issues didn’t stop the rowdy opening night crowd from interacting with the show, though. Questions like ‘What would priests know about anything anyway?’ were met with cheers and laughter. And as Loftus lifted her glass in a toast ‘To marriage!’ an audience member replied sarcastically, ‘Whatever.
‘The Wife of Bath’s Tale’? continues through June 13, Thursday-Sunday at 8 p.m. The Vortex, 2307 Manor Road. Tickets $10-$30.’ www.vortexrep.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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May 28, 2010
Review: Capital T Theatre's 'Bug'
Sequels are tricky. Formerly fresh characters and clever stories can seem too familiar the second time around. Tracy Letts’ play “Bug” is not technically a sequel to his play “Killer Joe,” but he wrote the former for the cast of the latter.
Austin’s Capital T Theatre has taken a similar tactic by casting most of last year’s summer theatre hit “Killer Joe” in the company’s production of “Bug,” which opened Thursday at Hyde Park Theatre.
“Bug,” like much of Letts’ work, alternates between horror and comedy, but the script feels limited and overwritten. The play gives little detail to lead character Agnes, a downtrodden waitress played by Katie deBuys. In contrast, Joey Hood as Peter Evans, the baby-faced paranoid military vet, and Kenneth Wayne Bradley, Agnes’s ex-con husband, have more developed characters to inhabit. Agnes’s two-dimensionality makes the audience’s path through the play difficult, since the audience’s path into Peter’s delusional world of bug infestation and conspiracy theories parallels Agnes’s for much of the play.
DeBuys did an admirable job with Agnes, particularly in Act II. Her new delusions practically seemed to have turned her into a bug. She sat curled up in ratty motel bedspread, her arms and legs bent like a praying mantis. Hood had the best sense of comedic timing. Mark Pickell’s directing used ample silence to heighten the play’s foreboding sensibility, but over the course of the two-and-a-half hour production, the silences became too many, too long.
Bradley’s goofy takes on burly bad boys seemed the best holdover from “Killer Joe.” Pickell and Tommy Grubbs’ uber realist set design also made a hit. The evocative, often humorous detail in the set offered at least one possible way around the repetitious details of the characters’ descent into delusion. If 15 bright yellow roach traps hang from the ceiling, is it necessary to tell the audience the room’s inhabitants are worried about bugs?
‘Bug’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturday through June 19. www.capitalt.org
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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May 12, 2010
Review: 'A Chorus Line'
Everybody can sing “One,” the best known song from “A Chorus Line.”
“One! Singular sensation every little step she makes.”
Seeing the song performed in the context of the national touring show Tuesday at UT’s Bass Concert Hall imbues the lyrics with new meanings. The song doesn’t just describe the force of a chorus line performing as one dancing unit. The musical, with its focus on dancers’ dreams and lives, demonstrates that inside that singular sensation known as the kick line stand a number of very different people who bring a variety experiences to the stage.
The 1975 musical, directed and choreographed by Michael Bennett with music by Marvin Hamlisch, a book by James Kirkwood and Nicholas Dante, and lyrics by Edward Kleban, is much richer than the 1985 movie.
The musical, revived by Baayork Lee who originated the role of Connie Wong and Bennett’s co-choreographer Bob Avian, shines the spotlight on 26 dancers competing for 8 spots in a Broadway show’s chorus. The group dances and sings, but they also talk—not an opportunity often afforded dancers. The stories the men and women tell felt surprisingly fresh Tuesday, despite the musical’s now iconic nature.
The most moving story belongs to the character Paul, played Tuesday by Nicky Venditti. One of the best dancers in the cast, Venditti brings an anxious sensitivity to the role of the young man struggling with how to reconcile his gender—a more feminine masculinity—and sexuality—he is gay. When the unseen director forces Paul to describe how he began dancing, Venditti smartly combines his body posture and vocal delivery with his lines. He keeps his hands mostly inside his pants’ pockets, but moves them as through they are struggling to escape, and he talks in the kind of breathless, run-on sentences of a person telling a story long kept secret.
Like Venditti, many of the actors build character through movement. Hilary Michael Thompson conveys Kristine’s inability to sing by hunching her back every time she tries to croak out a note in “Sing!” Sheila, the show’s older diva, wouldn’t be recognizable without Ashley Yeater’s shoulders back, chin up posture that becomes a sort of full-bodied sneer throughout the show. (Yeater was easily one of the strongest among Tuesday’s cast.) The show’s simple set, a wall of mirrors the run across the back of the stage, sometimes highlights the group’s fixation on how they look, and other times becomes something of a stand-in audience. As Cassie (Rebecca Riker) fights with the director to stay in the audition, the mirrors brighten as she dances. Michael Bennett’s choreography for this number—at least the actual movement vocabulary—is surprisingly dated and odd, but as Riker covers more and more space, the freedom Cassie feels when dancing becomes palpable.
When the cast first sings the line “I really need this job” in the opening number, it seems their desire for employment equates to anyone looking for a job. But as the dancers keep singing and keep dancing, their desire to perform takes a different shape. Being a dancer is who they are, not just what they do. That passion and a strong cast make seeing the two-hour musical performed without an intermission fly by.
‘A Chorus Line’ continues 8 p.m. through Saturday, 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday, 7:30 p.m. Sunday. Bass Concert Hall, 23rd Street and Robert Dedman Drive, University of Texas campus. $20-$69. www.BroadwayAcrossAmerica.com
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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May 10, 2010
Review: Ballet Austin's 'Coppelia'
Some men may want dolls, but a real woman is always a better deal.
In Ballet Austin’s Coppelia, performed this weekend at the Long Center, the real live woman, Swanilda, bests the doll that shares the ballet’s name. Swanilda’s spunk and artistic director Stephen Mills’ gift for comedic staging capitalized on the “Coppelia’s” charm and humor.
Coppelia is a women’s ballet. Women do most of the dancing, and Swanilda is their ringleader. Both of the dancers cast as Swanilda — Ashley Lynn Gilfix and Jaime Lynn Witts — were sassy Swanilda’s and dealt ably with the role’s extensive mime and dancing demands.
Gilfix has a softness to her upper body that allowed her to alternate between dainty and fierce. Witts showed great personality and technique throughout the ballet. She gleamed in the third act’s wedding pas de deux. Her performance, her first evening-length principal role, seems likely to be the first of many leads for Witts.
Neither lead woman could have pulled off the ballet’s comedy without help from their male partners. Paul Michael Bloodgood and Frank Shott alternated as Swanilda’s flirtatious lover Franz. Both men were generally strong, but Bloodgood struggled in his third act solo Saturday night.
Anthony Casati, who retired from the company two years ago, returned as the eccentric, older dollmaker Dr. Coppelius. Casati handled the slapstick well, while also tapping the role’s pathos.
A pack of strong dancers surrounded the leads, particularly in the extended dance for Swanilda and her six friends in Act I. In pairs and as a group, the seven women barreled through the space in a torrent of turns and jumps. Two of the friends, Michelle Thompson and Kirby Wallis, returned in the third act, as Aurora and Prayer respectively. As the sprightly Aurora, Thompson delivered one of her best solo performances to date. Wallis, who usually gets cast as more of a firecracker, brought a lovely serenity to the Prayer solo.
The corps had solid performances Saturday and Sunday. Their character dances were
well-executed but lacked the pride and exuberance that usually make Coppelia’s
character dances explode from the stage. Mills’ Waltz of the Hours, one of the new
choreographies for this production, looks lovely from the theatre’s higher
reaches. Its patterns loop and intertwine among themselves quite pleasingly.
Unfortunately, Anna Marie Melendez and Christopher Swaim seemed quite tense as the dance’s leading couple, undermining the lilt of the piece.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'Dream! A Midsummer Night's Dream'
At the Mother’s Day matinee of Austin Shakespeare’s production of “Dream! A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at the Zilker Hillside Theater, the mood was festive. Families brought picnics to spread out on blankets, and the crowd enjoyed the slightly cooler weather. Seeing free theatre in the park, though, means that bad weather could always cancel the show, as was unfortunately the case on Sunday.
The rainy weather was too bad, because the show was off to a rocking start—literally. In this colorful production, director Ann Ciccollela re-imagines Shakespeare’s classic comedy as a 1960s rock musical. A talented live rock band plays original music composed by Michael McKelvey and Cesar Osorio, which is integrated into the play so well you might forget that Shakespeare didn’t originally write “Midsummer Night’s Dream” as a musical.
The show’s interwoven plot involves young lovers, woodland fairies, and a group of working folks putting on a play-within-a-play. Magical love potions, (and those mischievous fairies), end up wreaking havoc on everyone’s well-laid plans.
The cast has fun with the production’s musical twist. As Hermia (one of the young lovers), Jenny Larson is spunky and sweet, while Gwendolyn Kelso plays jealous Helena with comedic exuberance. Joseph Banks delivers a clear and direct performance as Hermia’s lover Lysander (who is tricked into falling in love with Helena), and Michael Dalmon is hilariously over-the-top as one of the amateur actors, Nick Bottom.
In many ways, “Dream! A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is the perfect play for a theatre in the park experience. The show’s fantastical elements and forest setting, when coupled with live music and an outdoor Austin evening, could really be a spot-on combination. Let’s hope the weather cooperates for the rest of the show’s run.
‘Dream! A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ continues through May 30, Thursday-Sunday at 8 p.m at Zilker Hillside Theater. Free. www.austinshakespeare.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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May 4, 2010
Fusebox 2010: John Kelly's Paved Paradise Redux
There is sweet pleasure in watching one person love another. That’s what watching John Kelly performing as Joni Mitchell feels like: watching a great fan honor a great woman.
Kelly’s “Paved Paradise Redux,” the latest incarnation of the New York-based artist’s drag show about Joni Mitchell, is an always sensitive, sometimes hauntingly dark tribute to Mitchell and fandom. The piece, seen this weekend at the Long Center’s Rollins Theatre, felt like a perfect ending to the ten-day Fusebox Festival.
Kelly’s creates Mitchell from precise attention to quirky details. As he moves through about sixteen of Mitchell’s songs, Kelly mirrors Mitchell’s incredible range, shifting from high-pitch trills to her soothing alto. He wears diaphanous dresses—first white, then blue velvet—that hang from stooped shoulders and trail behind as he meanders in wandering pathways atop leopard-print high heels. These details contribute to a sense his Mitchell is both in the theatre and not. The music and often-hilarious musings between songs often feel poignant, but Kelly has perfected a paradoxical stare for his Mitchell. She gazes past the horizon with such intensity, her gaze turns back on itself, ably reflecting the retrospection and longing in Mitchell’s music.
For all of the love in the show, Kelly traffics in Mitchell’s darkness a great deal, too. Even when Mitchell’s lines (many of them drawn from live concert recordings) could be funny, Kelly cuts off the end of the sentence. His refusal of comedic timing pushes the Mitchell character in a very different direction than the male-to-female drag common in mainstream media today, which so often makes fun of female figures.
Familiarity with Mitchell’s work would be a bonus at the show, but Kelly has developed such a full character that owning the albums isn’t required. Regardless of the size of one’s Mitchell CD library, “Paved Paradise Redux” offers many of the joys of live concert going. “Case of You” is probably one of Mitchell’s best-known songs. Seeing Kelly play it—after he hilariously riffs on the genealogy of the odd instrument—brings out the song’s sexy percussion.
Seeing Kelly as Mitchell also brings out Mitchell’s lyrics differently. “Paved Paradise Redux” illustrates how her poetic words are not just descriptions of the relationships of others, but are about the relationship between a musician and her listeners. Kelly and Mitchell are now friends (the dulcimer he plays in the show was a gift from Mitchell), but as Kelly performs it’s obvious that the lyric he sings early in the show “she comforts him sometimes” describes a much longer relationship between Mitchell and this adoring fan.
Songs come to life in one body,
but they often gain their fullest expression when they come to live in the bodies
and lives of others.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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May 3, 2010
Review: 'The Taming of the Shrew'
If you want to see the Hidden Room Theatre’s production of Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew,” (which you should, because it’s rowdy and fun), there are a few things you should know.
The show’s location is a secret until you reserve a ticket. You’ll get an email from a mysterious figure known as “The Matriarch,” who will tell you where to go and give you the password required to gain entrance.
The hidden room itself (located somewhere downtown) is ornate, with oversized red chairs and gold trim. Live musicians play lilting tunes as the show begins.
“The Taming of the Shrew” is notorious for gender politics that are thoroughly outdated for modern audiences. In short, many suitors desire to marry Bianca (Ryan Hamilton), the sweet and pretty daughter of Baptista (Todd Kassens). Baptista, however, requires that his oldest daughter Katherina (Ryan Crowder) be married off first. The only problem? Katherina is a fierce and unpleasant shrew. Soon, though, the money-hungry Petrucio (Judd Farris) arrives, with a plan to “tame” Kate and make her the perfect, obedient wife. Yikes.
Beth Burns directs this fast-paced, playful production of “The Taming of the Shrew” using “original practices,” which means the show tries to mimic what the production would have been like when first performed. The costumes, then, are period inspired (think feathers in caps and men in tights). And as in Shakespeare’s day, this production has an all-male cast.
Having a man play the beautiful and desirable Bianca highlights how femininity itself is, in part, a performance. But there are no too-high falsetto voices and overzealous preening here — the men in drag take their roles as women seriously.
The show’s tight ensemble is incredibly deft with big, bawdy physical comedy. The confident actors also delight in the language and rhythm of the text. Ryan Crowder is sharp, poised, and razor-tongued as Kate, yet also sympathetic. Petrucio is a cocky and clever schemer, played with great drive by Judd Farris. All the actors excel at creating detailed and lively characters.
When performed today, it’s impossible to take the play’s central premise about wifely obedience seriously. Instead, Petrucio appears to be such a callous lout that the play could be interpreted as a critique of his misogyny. You’ll have to judge for yourself. In any case, The Hidden Room Theatre’s vibrant, textured version of the show offers rich material for discussion.
‘The Taming of the Shrew’ continues through May 23, Friday-Saturday at 8 p.m.; Sunday at 5 p.m. For tickets email The Matriarch at hiddenroomtheatre@yahoo.com
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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April 30, 2010
Fusebox 2010: Review of 'Under Polaris'
‘Under Polaris,’ the multi-media romp by LA-based creative collective Cloud Eye Control now at Salvage Vanguard Theater as part of the Fusebox Festival, may not be especially deep. But the hour-long rock opera cum live video animation is fun to watch.
The story charts the trail of female scientist who has distilled the perfect seed — the seed to the Tree of Life which preserves all earthly creation. And to preserve that seed she embarks on a trip to the North Pole where presumably it can be frozen, a hedge against apocalyptic destruction.
That’s a bit a self-serious. But nothing else about ‘Under Polaris’ really is. In fact, that pseudo cautionary tale — and epic tale that goes nowhere — just seems like a framework on which the creative collaborators pin their multi-media antics.
Three musicians keep a charging soundtrack going as Anna Oxygen, playing the scientist (and the piece’s chief composer), sings moody rock arias as she journeys north, encountering a bear, a caribou and a musk ox, each animal played out as large-sized, clever shadow puppetry.
Perhaps most beguiling about “Under Polaris” is the combination of computer-generated visuals and animation writ that are on rumpus room theatricals. Miwa Matreyek’s video animations effect oceans and iceberg filled polar-scapes all while projected on simple scrims and curtains. Images of giant icicles and even the scientist’s canoe are projected onto simply cutout forms craft store signboard that manually slipped on and offstage by the stage crew.
“Under Polaris” is digital media meets do-it-yourself theater with a live rock score — it’s just minus the meaningful meaning.
The show repeats tonight and Saturday at 7 p.m. See www.fuseboxfestival.com.
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April 29, 2010
Fusebox 2010: Review of 'Comme Toujours'
The spirit of exploration at the heart of disciplinary-crossing art making — blending dance and theatere or visual arts and music — can be an interesting, but messy affair.
Big Dance Theater’s “Comme Toujours Here I Stand” proves boundary crossing can also be slick, without sacrificing complexity. There’s no better place to ponder such gradations of performance approaches than the Fusebox Festival, which presented New York-based Big Dance Theater’s popular work Tuesday at the Long Center. New York critics hailed “Comme Toujours” as the most compelling example of the company’s work, and Tuesday’s performance demonstrated a stunning, unsettling sophistication in a range of vocabularies.
Since founding Big Dance Theater in 1991, co-directors Annie-B Parsons and Paul Lazar have always purposefully straddled the line between dance and theatre. “Comme Toujours” riffs on Agnes Varda’s 1962 French New Wave film “Cleo de 5 a 7 (Cleo from 5 to 7),” which follows a pop singer through two hours as she awaits biopsy results. Big Dance Theater combines the film’s plot and making of the movie to comment on the diva’s brush with mortality as both a moment filled with everyday occurrences as well as deep sorrow and fear. The mix of songs, dance and dialogue exchanges result in a very funny piece whose final moments have a gut-punching beauty that brilliantly sidesteps sentimentality.
“Comme Toujours” refuses to ever locate the story in one place or time. Dressed in black suits, the cast’s men constantly re-configure the space to shift the action between a movie set and the fictional pop star’s life. The men roll several rectangular cloth pieces, which sometimes serve as walls to frame vignettes performed by the cast’s women, sometimes to serve as screens for Jeff Larsons’ atmospheric videos. Molly Hickok is a most convincing, yet sympathetic diva. She combines an extravagance of gesture with a slightly flat affect, allowing her to read sometimes as pouting and other times as sad. Claudia Stephen’s costume design and Joanne Howard’s set enhance Hickok’s excess. As the show progresses, it seems almost as if Hickok gives birth to yards of white fur that cover more and more of the set and the characters’ props. One cannot help but notice how she changes the spaces she inhabits. She is funny, and she is overwhelming.
To some degree, all of the performers traffic in the same paradox of largesse and flatness that Hickok wields most extravagantly. Everyone in the cast plays a variety of roles, but the style suggests it’s never that important who the character is — a whiny girl involved in a series of melodramatic fights with an over-the-phone boyfriend or a macho male lover.
The acting style and insertions of quirky dance numbers keep the characters just beyond the audience’s grasp. The performers are in such control of their choices and the work overall has a sense of careful construction, creating an amazing world to enter, but never to be understood.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Mike van Sleen.
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April 27, 2010
Review: Golden Hornet Project presents Tosca String Quartet
While so much of the traditional world of classical music in the country ossifies, we’re lucky in Austin to have a tribe of busy, younger praticioners that keep things moving forward.
Among them is the Golden Hornet Project, the indie alt classic music presenters, along with its two artistic directors, composers Graham Reynolds and Peter Stopschinski.
Monday night, at the groovy Alamo Ritz, Golden Hornet staged what is now becoming a programming fixture for the group: An evening of new chamber works played by the always engaging Tosca String Quartet, played in two shows, an even meant to over lap with the Fusebox Festival.
The Alamo makes for an inventive venue for this now-annual concert — there’s plenty to play with, for one thing. Video design by Lee Webster made for real-time live shots of the ensemble writ large on the screen right behind the musicians. It’s just enough of a visual touch to add interest without distracting.
Monday’s program featured ome 12 short compositions by six tunesmiths with about half by Reynolds and Stopschinski — a good thing since both turned in the most musically strong of the dozen new pieces.
Reynolds can’t get the music of Duke Ellington out of his head (he hasn’t for several years now), and Monday night he treated with several of his variations on well-known Ellington melodies — some delightfully unrecognizable as Ellington in origin.
Stopschinski delighted most with his ‘Techno Courante’ for quartet and a percussive sound track, a wonderfully re-imagined riff on a Bach melody.
The layered arpeggios of Christopher Cox’s nicely conceived ‘Pentimento’ arched up, building in a fugue-like fashion, before ending lyrically.
But other pieces on the program, disappointed.
Will Taylor’s ‘Woody’s Green’ was a suitable enough jazz/blues tune exercised for string quartet but otherwise covered no new ground.
And the show’s VIP — Vampire Weekend leadman Rostam Batmanglij — brought out three short pieces that were less considered compositions of any depth and more pop music stuffed with mood and simply arranged for string quartet. (It didn’t help that on one piece Batmanglij’s own acoustic guitar accompaniment fell apart in his hands when he couldn’t keep rhythm.)
Still, it was hard not to notice that some in the audience were clearly brought by the pull of an international pop star. What they got along with that was some new music for a string quartet. And they didn’t seem to mind. And that was a good thing.
Photo by Rino Pizzi Art Photography.
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Review: Austin Lyric Opera's 'Hansel and Gretel'
Engelbert Humperdinck’s “Hansel and Gretel” is most often regarded as a children’s opera. And well, it was, sort of, when it was premiered in 1893.
The composer’s sister penned a kinder and gentler version of the rather grim fairy tale recorded by the Brothers Grimm and then asked her brother to pen some songs. The end result of the two efforts became full-length opera, a hit within the German-speaking world for several decades after its premiere, now a regular Christmas feature.
Though Humperdinck’s version nicefied the rather frightening tale of a witch who devours children, contemporary interpreters can’t resist dousing it with darkness.
Such is the case with the John Conklin-designed 2002 New York City Opera production now getting a decidedly — and unfortunate — underwhelming presentation by Austin Lyric Opera at the Long Center for the Performing Arts.
Re-imagined in 1890s New York, with Hansel and Gretel as two immigrant children who fall victim to a wealthy society woman, this rendition theatrically — at least at first — puts an interesting dark burnish on the fairy tale opera.
Conklin’s fin-de-siecle New York is dark and colorless. The pair of starving children glimpse light and food and family happiness only in striking dreamlike tableaux vivants during Humperdinck’s extended orchestral entr’actes.
But lusterless singing didn’t engender the production with any sophistication. And after two acts, the urbanity of the show conception waned: what remained was a goofing third act that was undeniably a children’s opera.
Strong character acting came from mezzo-soprano Liz Cass, who played the dual role of Gertrude and the Witch, and likewise from soprano Alicia Berneche, who played Gretel. But Adriana Zabala, as Hansel, often couldn’t be heard over the orchestra, and no amount of character acting could overcome that.
ALO resident conductor Richard Buckley once again provided the company with superb orchestral underpinnings. But even his excellent musicianship didn’t supplant the lackluster vocals.
In the end, this “Hansel and Gretel” lacked a ‘happily ever after.’
“Hansel and Gretel” continues 7:30 p.m. Wednesday and Friday, 3 p.m. Sunday. www.austinlyricopera.org
Photo by Mark Matson.
April 26, 2010
Review: 'A View from the Bridge'
Bleak yet electrifying, William Bolcom’s operatic version of Arthur Miller’s charged drama ‘A View From the Bridge’ impressed when it debuted in 1999 at Lyric Opera of Chicago.
The opera continues to impress and impact with its a new chamber orchestration which premiered Friday in a superb new production by UT’s Butler School of Music, one of the best the school has presented in recent memory.
All of Bolcom’s nimble stylistic eclecticism — heaped with dashes of American popular song, among many other echoes — is still there, if just in a less sweepingly cinematic fashion than original score for a 100-piece orchestra.
A commission from the Butler School, the smaller orchestration should allow for more universities and regional opera companies to take on this most American of operas. And hopefully it will end up in more repertoire. (Bolcom was on hand for Friday night’s performance before which he was presented with UT’s $25,000 Eddie Medora King Award for musical composition.)
Bolcom’s opera is a faithful adaptation of Miller’s bleak story of Italian immigrants in 1950s Brooklyn and the social, sexual and familial struggles that ensue when two distant cousins arrive from Italy to share the same grimy apartment as a couple and their adult niece. (Miller collaborated on the libretto; The play recently enjoyed a critically-acclaimed Broadway revival.)
Directed by Robert DeSimone and superbly conducted by Jim Lowe, this production artfully stays in period. Richard Isackes brilliant yet economically-designed set used scaffolding to frame action and suggest the gritty Brooklyn neighborhood. An expanse of metal fencing flew up and down, marking when the action was on the street but also brilliantly becomes a jail cell when, Marco, one of the new immigrant cousins, is detained by officials. (Remind you of the border fence between Mexico and Texas anyone?)
Smart acting and deft singing throughout the cast made for a riveting performance. Outstanding as Beatrice, soprano Cristina Caldas mixed theatrical complexity with vocal dazzle. Visiting alum Rubin Casas made a powerful, expressive Eddie. And Icy Simson sang the challenging role of Catherine with aplomb.
UT takes the production to San Antonio this weekend for one show at the Empire Theatre. Lucky Alamo City.
Fusebox 2010: Daniel Barrow's 'Everytime I See Your Picture I Cry'
With a simple overhead projector and hundreds of drawings on mylar transparency, Daniel Barrow charmed with an odd yet compelling tale — a meditation on the desire, and the failure, for true human connection in our very disconnected times.
The Winnipeg-based artist presented his ‘Every Time I See Your Picture I Cry’ — a live manual animation performance — to a sold out house at the Off Center as part of the Fusebox Festival.
Sitting at the overhead projector, Barrow layered the drawings on the projector, manipulating them at time to create a gentle, fluid type of animation. A soundtrack by Amy Linton added to the moodiness.
Along the way, Barrow’s gentle voice spins a quirky, melancholy tale that nevertheless ruminates on the nature of love and art.
Barrow’s is a comic book style tale told in chapters. And while his soft color palette may recall a kind of vintage mid-century illustration, Barrow’s images bear plenty of violence and sheer ugliness — a kind of prism of pathos, loveliness and humor the entire piece presents us with.
Our narrator is a garbage man — a failed art school grad and inviterate collector. Hampered by chronic eye problems his life’s gesamtkunstwerk — which he calls “an art project for everyone” — is to create a phone book that wholly and completely chronicles the lives of those around him. An admirer of quotidian stuff, he assembles his phone book by gathering scraps from the garbage cans he empties every day. He also mines memory, history, framing each subject by tracing their image through a window spying on people rather than connecting.
But the garbage man’s attempt at capturing such portraits leads to their — and ultimately, his — violent demise. Art — believe in it and it can kill, you know.
At times, Barrow’s tale skidded dangerously close to being too precious — the juxtapositions that fed the quirkiness of his story seeming a little too pat.
In the end, though, the essential charm — the ‘handmade and heartfelt-ness’ — of Barrow’s low-tech animation kept preciousness in check.
Tonight, Barrow presents his video-based performance ‘Winnipeg Babysitter’ at 8 p.m. See www.fuseboxfestival.com
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April 25, 2010
Review: 'The Difficulty of Crossing A Field'
Enigma is layered on enigma in ‘The Difficulty of Crossing a Field,’ the haunting opera cum musical theater work now getting an adventurous production at UT’s B. Iden Payne Theater, deftly directed by Luke Leonard.
Such enigmatic layering extends to the very origins of the piece.
This 75-minute opera by David Lang and Mac Wellman is based on 1888 short story by Ambroise Bierce. In Bierce’s odd tale a wealthy farmer in pre-Civil War Alabama drops from sight one afternoon as he crosses his field. His friends, neighbors, family and slaves have all only glanced away for second. But the plantation owner, Williamson, is gone; so is whatever social and political hierarchy his dominate position held. And because he has no male heir, a court must decide if Williamson is truly gone or not so that his estate can be distributed. The center of a world has suddenly, mysteriously vanished.
Wellman, a convention-defying New York-based playwright, transformed Bierce’s inscrutable yet politically satirical tale into an uncommon play in 1999. Then Lang — the Pulitzer Prize-winning composer whose genre-busting career include founding the new music groundbreaker group Bang On A Can — collaborated with Wellman to create a musical version for the stage which premiered in 2002 and featured the Kronos Quartet.
In Lang and Wellman’s variant — in which arias combine with spoken text — we are presented with several re-tellings of Williamson’s disappearance. A neighbor recants his confused remembrances. Williamson’s wife (a compelling Jennifer Adams) goes mad and takes to the roof, refusing to come down until he returns. Williamson’s daughter (a captivating Haley Hussey) demands to know the “mysteries of Selma, Alabama” — a reference that resonates past the Civil War to the Civil Rights Movement.
And throughout a chorus of ghostly slaves echo and add to the alternate versions of Williamson’s mysterious disappearance.
“We are building a nation, we are building an erasure,” characters and chorus repeat.
Indeed what churns throughout the dreamlike episodes — or perhaps they’re really nightmarish — is the question of how America’s history of slavery is dis-remembered.
Leonard and the creative team added visually arrestings layers of odd artifice on this already odd though jewel-like piece. Alison Heryer’s period-inspired costumes symbolically weight the slave characters down with bulbuous, twine-wrapped forms. Actors travel across the stage with highly stylized movements. A magistrate stands on stilts far above everyone else. Hyper bright elongated white neon lights, flank the proscenium and like a Dan Flavin installation turned on and off, flood the audience with light at the beginning and end. We are, after all, a part of this telling of American history.
Lang’s eerie, atmospheric, minimalist-infused score, conducted by Lyn Koenning, wraps the odd scenarios with mystery equal to their telling.
“Something has happened,” one character proclaims. “But I don’t know what.” If Lang and Wellman’s piece only offers more variants on an enigmatic tale of history-making, maybe some enigmas are better just left enigmas.
‘The Difficulty of Crossing a Field’ continues at 8 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday and at 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday at UT’s B. Iden Payne Theatre. www.texasperformingart.org
April 23, 2010
Review: Fusebox 2010 opening night
It is unlikely anyone will ever again stand on the State Capitol front steps and announce, “I’m glad you enjoyed the two-stepping. Make sure to join us just down the street for the free Japanese contemporary dance performance.”
Welcome back, Fusebox Festival! The now six-year old, genre-blurring festival, conceived and curated by Ron Berry — the man behind the microphone —displayed its charm and stunning breadth in the programming for Wednesday’s performances. The opening night of the ten-day festival featured a collaboration between local artists Allison Orr and Graham Reynolds, and, later at the Paramount Theatre, “The Velvet Suite,” conceived and danced by Japanese performer Kaiji Moriyama.
The night began with “T is for: Two Hundred Two-Steppers on the steps of the Texas Capitol,” a creation of Orr, a choreographer; Reynolds, a composer and musician; and a slew of Austin’s best two-steppers and country musicians. Reynolds led the impressive, rather rocking band, through some more usual two-stepping fare, like “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” He also threw in a few unusual, fun numbers, including the theme from television’s “Dallas.”
Orr orchestrated her winning formula, bringing excellent amateur social dancers into a concert dance space. They performed everything from the waltz to the polka. The choreography alternated between smaller numbers featuring standout couples and dance-floor filling ensemble numbers. The two-stepping party closed with an all-call, though the performance felt participatory much earlier, starting somewhere around the time several pockets of audience members starting singing along to “ Waltz Across Texas.”
A few blocks away at the Paramoun the scene could not have been more different. Moriyama, whose work was presented with support from testperformancetest and Arthouse, spent a little over an hour moving with extreme precision and a presence so intense he seemed almost furious.
Accompanied onstage by violinist Koichiro Muroya, Moriyama slunk about the stage as his arms ripped with such liquidity he seemed almost to have no elbows. Most of his movements were relatively slow, often ending in a quick unfurl of his long, red hair. He danced bare-chested, making mesmerizing jabs and balloons with his rib cage and stomach muscles.
Ever so slowly, a glowing red orb descended from the ceiling. Like a bush of fiery thorns, it initially seemed destined to crush him, but then Moriyama finally settled down next to it, perhaps entranced, but not vanquished. Someone who moves with such stunning qualities as Moriyama could not be stamped out. Too much had been unleashed.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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April 21, 2010
Review: 'In the Heights'
The title of “In the Heights” references the Manhattan neighborhood of Washington Heights, but the title could just as well describe the musical’s constantly soaring music and dance numbers and its insistent optimism.
Even as the neighborhood faces the economic realities of gentrification, the musical pulses with warmth. “In the Heights” national touring production, which opened Tuesday at UT’s Bass Concert Hall, has much to offer—a full slate of well-sung musical numbers, laugh-out-loud jokes and a fantastic cast.
“In the Heights,” with music and lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda and a book by Quiara Alegria Hudes, offers immense pleasure. The musical’s happy tone is almost bizarre since many of its stories are quite sad. It takes a magic solution — a winning lottery ticket — to offer main character Usnavi (Kyle Beltran) a path out of economic ruin. The bodega owner struggles to avoid the fate that befalls the businesses around him: accepting low-ball offers from real estate developers or moving to the Bronx to avoid escalating rent.
Nina (Arielle Jacobs), who returned home after feeling like an outsider at Stanford, agrees to return to school — a choice facilitated by her father’s sale of the family business. But it seems unclear as to whose desire Nina’s return fulfills, hers or her parents, and whether the isolation she felt among Stanford’s rich, white culture will ever lessen.
Whatever the realities of the neighborhood’s future might be, all of the characters celebrate how the place and its people have offered a sense of being at home. To be at home in “In the Heights” means to experience — anticipate even — the familiar. When Nina’s parents invite friends over to welcome Nina back, Nina’s mother, Camila (Natalie Toro) luxuriates in getting to dance to her favorite part of an old record: a scratch that makes one rhythm repeat over and over again. Afterwards, she notes that the scratch on the record is the best part, and as he arrives Usnavi asks, “Did we miss the scratch on the record?” Home may be imperfect, but the familiarity of even its failings produces a common bond. Only Nina’s father’s treatment of Benny, his African American employee and Nina’s love interest, tests the boundaries of the musical’s community.
The repeated emphasis on similarity bringing people together is most interesting in contrast to the musical’s movement and music vocabulary. The opening noise of “In the Heights” is that of a radio blaring as a dial is turning, producing a collage of musical varieties from salsa to hip hop. In interviews about the show, creator Miranda has named the radio moment as a metaphor for how his concept for the musical as a collage of the diversity of an urban Latino neighborhood. “In the Heights” absolutely creates a vision of diverse vibrancy, thanks to Thomas Kail’s direction and Andy Blakenbuehler’s choreography. The staging and dancing produce a kinetically driven, never static picture of urban life. Anna Louizos’s set beautifully emphasizes stoops and fire escapes, a feature that points to how semi-public spaces become stages for relationship building in cityscapes.
The layers of “In the Heights” necessitate a cast that can take on a great deal, from a range of dance styles to heavy, but quick language. As Usnavi, Kyle Beltran is excellent in more traditional song and in Usnavi’s quick flip rap. Beltran embodies the musical’s immense likeability, and the bounce in his step seems well paired with the musical’s optimism.
As Usnavi’s young cousin Sonny, Shaun Taylor-Corbett is hilarious. He delivers what could be mere one-liners with an attention to detail in acting and physicality that make Sonny one of the show’s greatest delights. Jacobs, as Nina, and Sabina Sloan as Usnavi’s love interest Vanessa, deliver solid performances in somewhat underdeveloped roles. In a show of many big money musical numbers (maybe too many), Toro, as Camila, and Isabel Santiago as salon owner Daniela most fully assume center stage for their songs, “Enough” and “Carnaval del Barrio” respectively.
‘In the Heights’ 8 p.m. through Saturday, 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday, 7:30 p.m. Sunday Bass Concert Hall, 2300 Robert Dedman Dr. www.texas
performingarts.org
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Joan Marcus.
April 19, 2010
Review: 'La Serva Padrona'
La Follia Austin Baroque took a bold step this weekend staging a production of ‘La Serva Padrona,’ a comic operetta by Giovanni Pergolesi.
After all, the longtime period music chamber music group doesn’t have much experience staging operas. And if sometimes that lack of experience showed around the edges on Friday at the First Presbyterian Church, the first of two performances, in the end the utterly charming nature of Pergolesi’s goofball of a piece and some engaging singing made La Follia’s bold step a pleasure.
Hardly a part of any standard opera repertoire, ‘La Serva Padrona’ was originally presented in 1733 as an intermezzo for Pergolesi’s longer opera ‘Il Priogioniero Superbo’ which never exactly became a hit, thus shunting ‘La Serva’ to obscurity for a while before the short piece piece finally got its much deserved solo recognition.
And the operetta is a charmer alright.
Serpina (soprano Gitanjali Mathur) is a spit fire, a cunning young maid to an Italian nobleman, Uberto (Steven Olivares) who desires more from life. So she conspires a way — through the not too unexpected devices of disguise and simple chicanery — to trick Uberto into marrying her and thus making her the mistress of his estate.
With Mathur and Olivares in period Baroque costumes, the action all took place on a small stage backed by drapes — a simple set not without its slightly amateurish look. English supertitles were projected top the right of the stage on the back wall of the church sanctuary. To the left of the stage sat the eight-piece period instrument baroque orchestra lead by La Follia artistic director and harpsichordist Keith Womer.
A regular with Grammy-nominated choir Conspirare, Mathur — while she doesn’t have a big voice — has a sweet clear tone that’s full of delightful color. And humor. Mathur is a natural — and convincing — comedic actress who is a delight to watch. Olivares, too, showed his comedic acting chops, along with good tone that got stronger and more colorful as the operetta progressed.
Though ‘La Serva Padrona’ is a short two acts no more than 45 or 50 minutes, it was nevertheless presented with an intermission. And the second act was proceeded by Pergolesi’s Flute Concerto in G Major, featuring soloist Marcus McGuff.
It was a clever thought to insert an intermezzo piece into a operetta that was itself created as an intermezzo. But the intermission stole energy from Pergolesi’s frothy folly that took the case and ensemble a while to regain after the Concerto.
Still, La Follia earned a tip of the hat for sticking a toe in the opera arena.
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Review: 'Our Town' at Zach Theatre
As Emily Webb, one of the main characters in “Our Town,” revisits a day in her past, she woefully marvels at how human beings are blind to the everyday. “All of that was going on,” she says, “and we never even noticed.”
The fleeting pace of life (and the importance of paying attention to each moment while living it) is at the heart of Thornton Wilder’s classic play “Our Town.” The show is hot again, popping up at theatres across the country, from a popular off-Broadway production to one at the University of Texas to the bold new version currently playing at Zach Theatre.
“Our Town” follows the citizens of Grover’s Corners—a fictional small town in New Hampshire in the early twentieth century—as they live their daily lives, fall in love and marry, and eventually pass on. At the center of the action is the courtship between teenagers Emily Webb (Jordan McRae) and George Gibbs (Michael Amendola). A wise and humorous Stage Manager (Jaston Williams) guides the audience through the town’s stories.
In Zach Theatre’s energetic version, director Dave Steakley visually re-imagines the play as taking place in contemporary Austin. The play’s visual design is stunning, as is the lighting by Jason Amato. Some of the Austin touches include members of an actual church choir in East Austin playing the town’s choir, and Willie Nelson tunes drifting in and out.
In another creative twist, to celebrate the marriage of Emily and George, the audience moves to the Nowlin Studio for a site-specific experience that truly feels like a wedding. Turquoise curtains are draped across the walls and dozens of white lanterns hang from the ceiling. A lively reception follows, complete with free wedding cake for all the guests.
But while the visuals suggest today’s Austin, the language of the play still refers to the Grover’s Corners of the past. At times, this choice highlights the specificity of the play’s actual time period while also suggesting that its themes translate into contemporary time and place. At other times, it feels a tiny bit jarring.
The actors approach their roles with gusto. Michael Amendola perfectly captures the earnest exuberance of youth. His sweet, slightly dorky portrayal of George is endearing. Jordan McRae imbues Emily with energy and natural goodwill.
Zach Theatre’s production of “Our Town” is creative and fun, and once again Steakley does an admirable job of connecting theatre to the local community. Sometimes though, the play seems overproduced. There are moments when all the bells and whistles distract from the poetry of Wilder’s language.
“Our Town” is popular again partly because it emphasizes the importance of human connection, which many Americans are focusing on in hard times. Zach Theatre’s production is at its best when it slows down and embraces the simplicity of the play’s message.
‘Our Town’ continues through May 23, Wednesday-Saturday at 7:30 p.m.; Sunday at 2:30 p.m. Zach’s Kleberg Stage, 1510 Toomey Rd. Tickets $20-$40. www.zachtheatre.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Kirk R. Tuck.
April 13, 2010
Review: 'Keeping Track'
Janet does not like that feeling that she has lost control of her own home, her husband and the swirl events that make up her modern life as a modern wife.
But control is the last thing Janet gains in “Keeping Track,” Erica Saenz’s heart-warming comedy now getting its premiere at Salvage Vanguard Theater in a Teatro Vivo production.
Saenz, a founding member of the ground-breaking Austin sketch comedy troupe the Latino Comedy Project, trains her considerable comedic talents on an upwardly-mobile Latino family for her first full-length play.
Janet (Karen Alvarado) likes things her way and that means an organized house for just her and her husband, Albert (Rick Olmos), a successful attorney. But nothing has been organized since Albert’s widowed mother Carolina (JoJanie Segura) has moved in, Carolina is omnipresent and messy: Albert and Janet have no privacy and Janet’s tidy housekeeping gets thrown outta whack.
But Albert loves his mother’s traditional cooking over his wife’s health-conscious fare. So does the couple’s extended family who regularly assemble for a regular Sunday dinner: Janet’s half-brother Jack (Matt Sadler) and his wife Melinda (Matinique Duchene) and Yolie (played by the irrepressibly funny Saenz herself), a forever single family friend.
So when Janet declares at Sunday dinner that she wants her mother-in-law out of her house and into a retirement home, she’s met with resounding opposition from everyone at the table. And what’s worse, Janet wants Carolina to go to a home where she’ll be implanted with a micro-chip, allowing Albert and Janet to track her from the comfort of their own home.
That situation sets off an hysterical series of situations and interactions within the circle of family and friends.
With considerable playwriting panache, Saenz weaves a charming portrait of contemporary life where technological advances are often many steps ahead of our emotional, psychological and interpersonal capabilities. Baby monitors, cell phones, micro-chipped elder parents. What does that do to boundaries between family members?
Ultimately, Saenz is examining the seismic shifts within a traditional close-knit Latino family that finds its closeness challenged by modern — and independent — lives. And she does so with kindness, not judgement nor hamfisted politics.
Saenz herself is a bit a show-stealer as the wise-cracking, irreverent Yolie. Though like any good ensemble sit-com — which “Keeping Track” bears plenty of resemblance, in a good way — the funniest moments come when the cast clicks together in an energetic way. If the energy slagged at moments at Saturday night;s show, it may have been just a temporary snag in the ‘je ne sais quoi’ element that comedy relies on.
Still, with “Keeping Track” Saenz delivers a delightful, humor-filled take on the modern family.
“Keeping Track” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 3 p.m. Sundays through April 25. Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. $13-$16 (Thursdays pay-what-you-wish). www.teatrovivo.org
Image: Karen Alvarado as Janet (left) and Erica Saenz as Yolie (center). Photo by Alberto Jimenez; courtesy Teatro Vivo
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April 12, 2010
Review: 'Body Awareness' at Hyde Park Theatre
Just a reminder everyone: The folks at the fictional New England Shirley State University in Annie Baker’s smart comedy “Body Awareness,” now getting a delightful spin at Hyde Park Theatre, are not celebrating Eating Disorders Week, though that’s what the calendar says.
No, Phyllis, a painfully politically correct lesbian psychology professor, has renamed the occasion Body Awareness Week. And if all goes according to her plans, the students and faculty will think meaningful — and politically correct — thoughts about gender and body politics.
But of course, nothing goes as planned.
Yet, rather than belittle her characters for their overzealous philosophizing, Baker crafts a gentle comedy that leaves even the most ardent. humorless feminist with dignity in tact.
Deftly directed by Ken Webster, the 90-minute “Body Awareness” is set in a fictional bucolic college town that’s all too familiar to Austinites.
When a photographer, Frank Bonitatibus (Kenneth Wayne Bradley), arrives as a guest artist for Body Awareness week, in he drops to stay at the home of Phyllis (Emily Erington), her partner Joyce (Katherine Catmull) and Joyce’s 21-year-old son Jared (Stephen Mercantel), who may or may not have Asperger’s syndrome.
But Frank’s photos of nude of women ignite an explosively critical reaction from Phyllis. Never mind that they intrigue Joyce and spur Jared — a self-proclaimed “autodidact” who works at McDonald’s — to confront his girlfriend-less status.
Baker unravels her story from a Monday to a Friday, with Phyllis giving an introduction to each day’s Body Awareness Week activities — short monologues that are satirical enough to stand as their own comedic send up of academia.
The most meaningful action takes place in Phyllis and Joyce’s home though as the couple try to bridge their widely differing opinions of Frank’s nude photography while also trying to deal with Jared’s escalating anxiety over his socially stunted behavior. Jared’s is repeatedly reminded by his mother and Phyllis that a lack of empathy is a key symptom of Asperger’s.
But kindly, Baker unmasks the resistance to empathy that all her characters share. And that gives “Body Awareness” its gentle heart.
A shrewd director of modern comedies, Webster keeps the play’s pacing at a relaxed yet efficient clip, letting the pauses in Baker’s dialogue linger to greater comic effect.
Mercantel stands out as the awkward man-child Jared, gracefully handling his character’s strange ricocheting between clever quip, childish defensiveness and hurtful jabs.
In the end, Jared edges toward exercising empathy, something “Body Awareness’ humorously reminds is sometimes lacking from over-analyzed lives.
“Body Awareness” continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through May 8. Hyde Park Theare, 511 W. 43rd St. www.hydeparktheatre.org
Photo by Bret Brookshire.
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Review: 'City of Angels'
The musical “City of Angels” requires detective skills from everyone, from director to cast to audience. The story within a story structure of the 1989 musical comedy makes the piece a puzzle to produce and understand. For the most part, the current production at St. Edward’s Mary Moody Northen ’s, directed by Michael McKelvey and running at the Mary Moody Theatre until April 18, pieces the jigsaw pieces together with a balance of clarity and intrigue.
“City of Angels,” with music by Cy Coleman, lyrics by David Zippel, and book by Larry Gelbart, tells the story of book author come screenwriter Stine (Jamie Goodwin) as he fights the amorality of money-loving Hollywood while transforming his latest novel into a noir film.
The confusing, but also fascinating aspect of the musical is its simultaneous telling of Stine’s story alongside that of his character Detective Stone (David M. Long) and the crimes Stones investigates — a simultaneity that includes Stine and his shallow producer (Jacob Trussell) rewriting Stone’s story as the musical develops. As Goodwin types on a platform above the main action, then throws pages away in disgust, Long robotically walks backward then replays scenes with new dialogue.
Perhaps the most telling inclusion of the rewriting tensions unfolds around the story of Munzo (Jon Wayne Martin), the Latino cop who, in the first telling of Stone’s story, is angered by Stone’s ability to avoid prosecution for murder because he is white. Buddy the producer insists the racial tensions don’t make a compelling movie, and he forces Stine to write a romantic triangle instead.
Until the bit too confusing last scene, McKelvey’s direction and Leilah Stewart’s multi-level scene design keep the multiple stories quite clear, but suitably intertwined. The separation of the action into levels makes the musical’s climax, Stone and Stine’s duet “I’m Nothing Without You” belted from centerstage most powerful—hilariously staged to toy with a musical love song to display the men’s narcissism.
While the bulk of the cast’s women become almost blurry — a swirl of long legs and lingerie — Sarah Burkhalter, doubling as Stine and Stone’s love interests Gabby and Bobbi, and Kimberley Gates, as Stone’s Girl Friday and Stine’s mistress, pull the spotlight back toward the show’s women. As Munoz, Martin had the other strong performance Friday, bringing a rich, but clear voice to the performance as he sang “All You Have to do is Wait.”
‘City of Angels’ continues 7:30 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday at Mary Moody Northen Theatre, St. Edward’s University, 3001 S. Congress Ave. 448-8484. $15-$20.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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April 8, 2010
Review: 'Sleeping Beauty'
Brothers Grimm, move over. There’s a new interpretation of ‘Sleeping Beauty’ on the block — at the Vortex theater through May 2, that is.
And this one — garnished with spectacular costumes, reinvented characters and engaging original songs — is more likely to appeal to the modern crowd.
In 2005, Vortex founder Bonnie Cullum and theater artist Content Love Knowles launched a musical theater version of the well-known fairy tale that garnered sold-out houses. Now, after receiving a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts — the first NEA grant in Vortex’s 22 year history — Cullum and Knowles have significantly revamped their revisionist fairy tale most notably by upping the production values of the sets and costumes and adding new songs and arrangements.
This Sleeping Beauty (aka Princess Briar Rose, played appealingly by Julia Lorenz) is a girl of her own power and decides to live her life in the way she chooses. But even before she appears in Act II of the roughly two hour production, the magical kingdom of Avalia isn’t exactly the Disney-fied place of common imagination. No, it’s a bit political and when the fairy Ixlamere isn’t invited to honor the baby Princess Briar Rose, friction of sort arises.
Knowles, who penned all the music to the sung-through musical, led the four-piece ensemble, gave the story an appealing score that was part cabaret, part honky-tonk, part Tom Waits. And those songs were burnished with some impressive vocal stylings by Lorenz, Jonathan Itchon and Suzanne Balling
Costumes by Pam Fletcher Friday and outrageously creative headpieces by Griffon Ramsey create the show’s visual spectacle. Ramsey uses everything from found objects to plant matter to the usual millinery material to fashion hats that read as sculpture.
Where the re-thinking the classic fairy tale grew cumbersome was the reliance on exposition rather than action to move the story along. And the 24-member, 34-character cast meant sometimes the crowding got intense and cumbersome on the tiny Vortex stage.
Still, it’s an ambitious production and, despite moments of over-wroughtness, ultimately appealing.
‘Sleeping Beauty’ continues 8 p.m. Thurdays-Sundays through May 2. See www.vortexrep.org
March 31, 2010
Review: UT's New Music Ensemble plays William Bolcom
The University of Texas’ celebration of William Bolcom this week, which culminated in an all-Bolcom concert Tuesday by UT’s New Music Ensemble, made one point clear: The much-lauded American composer knows that serious, intelligently-composed music can be beguiling, fun and unabashedly inclusive of its American origins.
Sly humor — and a little irreverence — kicked off the program at Bates Recital Hall. With the audience seated and looking at an empty stage, a burst of brass music surprised from behind. The Bel Cuore Saxophone Quartet, the student saxophone foursome, dashed off the short playful Scherzino from behind the last row of seats.
From there the evening coursed through a lively sampling of Bolcom’s chamber works — Whisper Moon, Scherzo Fantasy, Three Rags for String Quartet and Orphee Serenade — played with considerable spirit and energy by the student ensemble, particularly the Aeolus Quartet — UT’s graduate quartet in residence — who brought considerable élan to Three Rags.
Bolcom’s music is a bit like rapidly flicking through a slide show about an ever-changing American landscape that’s been rendered in single perfect frames: First a jazzy glittering city, then a quaint town with brass band playing in a gazebo, then a darkened forest full of dissonant shadowy sounds, then a sunny vibrant prairie expansive with possibility rich with open sounds. In between, musical quotes from centuries past — a blast of baroque, a sweep of romanticism — pop like a bright flash bulb.
Bolcom loves his Americana. But he also loves his moments of atonal harmonies and jittery, modern rhythms. His is an eclecticism expertly rendered.
The recipient of UT’s $25,000 Eddie Medora King Award for outstanding contributions in music composition, Bolcom was on hand Tuesday. (He’ll be officially presented with the award April 23 when a newly-orchestrated version of his opera “A View from the Bridge” opens at UT’s McCullough Theatre).
Still furiously busy writing music at age 71, Bolcom took the piano for what he called “Mini Cabs” a dozen, super-short cabaret songs. Working with leftover lyrics found amongst the papers of Bolcom’s longtime collaborator and librettist Arnold Weinstein who died in 2005, the composer fashioned wry little musical one-liners, sung charmingly by his wife, mezzo soprano Joan Morris. (The two have concertized together for nearly four decades.)
And what droll one-liners they were: “People change into what they are.” “Those who want to do it all the time do it less than those who don’t.” “I will never forgive you for my behavior.”
Quiet chuckling rolled through the audience. That’s right, intelligent compositions can be a darned good time.
March 29, 2010
Review: KDH Dance's 'Alone, Alone'
KDH Dance went to new places with ‘Alone, Alone,’ a new hour-long dance work that premiered this weekend in three sold-out shows at the Salvage Vanguard Theater.
In more ways the one, too.
Artistic director Kathy Dunn Hamrick rallied the ambient rock band Hill Ma as collaborators — a pretty daring choice even for the self-proclaimed ‘Live Music Capital of the World.’ So often live musical accompaniment to modern dance remains acoustic.
Not so with ‘Alone, Alone,’ The Hill Ma foursome played live from behind a scrim at the rear of the stage. And if their more charging, louder sounds made for a bit of an aesthetic disconnect at times with Hamrick modern moves, for the most part the band’s ethereal lyric-less wall-of-sound and moody style made for a good fit, adding plenty of energy to Hamrick already energetic manner of dance.
Indeed, Hamrick’s signature athleticism provided the underpinnings to ‘Alone, Alone.’ (Hers are usually some of the most vigorous dances on Austin indie modern dance scene).
But rather than take her usual humor-infused approach to creating abstract non-narrative dance, Hamrick went for thoughtful: ‘Alone, Alone’ was an emotionally resonant hour-long exploration of the state of being alone.
Though at time the company of eight dancers filled the stage together, they were really been dancing solo, each working out a way of being through dynamic angular moves, each glancing sideways assessing how others were doing it. Clad in first pink then chartreuse tunics, the dancers partnered each other only briefly and distractedly. Even when pairs or trios or quartets danced through sequences together, there was a marked but effective disconnect between them.
Slowly, the emotional gaps between the ensemble closed as ‘Alone, Alone’ progressed. But not before we saw a series of striking variations on the movement of singleness.
Review: Ballet Austin's 'New American Talent/Dance'
Saving the best for last may be a cliche, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea.
Ballet Austin definitely saved its best new ballet until the end of Thursday’s New American Talent/Dance (NATD) program. Nelly Van Bommel’s Fanfarneta is smart, funny, and rich.
Fanfarneta was one of three ballets commissioned for the third biennial NATD competition. Three jurors—this year Alicia Adams of the Kennedy Center, Julie Nakagawa of DanceWorks Chicago, and Paul Vasterling of Nashville Ballet—select three finalist choreographers from a pool of video applications. This year’s finalists were Dominic Walsh of Houston’s Dominic Walsh Dance Theatre, KT Nelson of San Francisco’s ODC Dance, and Van Bommel, a French-born choreographer now based in New York.
Van Bommel chose La Cor de la Plana’s music for Fanfarneta, using the songs of the all-male French group for a series of vignettes. Sung in Occitan, a language indigenous to southern France and Catalonia, the throaty voices and the songs’ rhythmic complexity generate a folksy feel. Van Bommel ably couples music and choreography so the dance becomes another rhythmic layer. The two artistic elements feed one another, rather than one channeling the other. She accentuates this relationship by having the barefoot dancers slap the floor with their feet. The dancers may all have shin splints soon, but the foot-stomping provides a joyous, calamitous tone.
Fanfarneta’s sense of intense community captures folk dance’s spirit with a modern dance vocabulary. In a simple series of arm gestures, Jaime Lynn Witts and Joseph Hernandez demonstrate how performers can really see one another and connect. The piece seems intensity seems social (even in Michelle Thompson’s fabulous solo). Van Bommel brought the dancers together.
It’s reductive to compare dance pieces, since every work has unique successes and failures. But the NATD format—audience members use their cell phones to vote for their favorite work—makes comparisons hard to avoid. Next to Fanfarneta, Walsh’s “The Whistling” seems underdeveloped. Walsh chose an excellent cast and used their balletic skills well, but he also gave Hernandez a bad ballet version of breakdance popping and locking as a solo. The piece was littered with moments that screamed, “This gesture is very meaningful” without providing narrative or kinetic interpretive contexts.
KT Nelson’s “When Love is Hard” lacked sophistication. Nelson’s choreography generally followed a single instrument through Borut Krzisnik’s dense score. Couples paired by repeating a movement motif of poking one another with outstretched fingers: one couple poked with tenderness, another slashed with rage. But for all the different emotions expressed, the end result was monotonous.
‘New American Talent/Dance’ continues through April 4. See www.balleaustin.org.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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Review: 'Post-Oedipus'
“Post-Oedipus,” a co-production of the Getalong Gang Performance Group and The Blue Theatre, includes some characters from Greek drama you may be familiar with.
For example, there’s Oedipus, who famously killed his father, married his mother Jocasta, and eventually gouged his eyeballs out. But though you may have encountered these characters before, you’ve never seen them quite like this.
In “Post-Oedipus,” Jocasta (Jennifer Gravenstein) is a vain, drugged out, overdramatic narcissist and Oedipus (James Brownlee) listens to self-help tapes, cracks jokes about being blind, and dreams of starting his own gumball machine business. Much of the action in the ensuing story centers on the conflict between Jocasta’s two sons, Polyneices (Seth Thomas) and Eteocles (Stephen Cruz), who are fighting over who is the proper ruler of Thebes.
“Post-Oedipus,” written by Steven Gridley and directed by Spencer Driggers, teases at the conventions of Greek drama—the big voices, the over-wrought acting, the endless grief. The show takes a post-modern approach to storytelling as it mixes genres, plays with notions of past and present, and brings in elements from contemporary life. For example, the characters take photos of themselves and do another “take” if the performance doesn’t seem right. “Post-Oedipus” is Greek tragedy as dysfunctional reality TV show.
But despite the enthusiasm of the cast and production team, the show can’t overcome some basic problems of the script. The zany elements of the show (Oedipus’s gumball machine, the relentless photographs), are funny for a moment, but they just don’t seem to add up to a coherent whole.
In addition, the internal logic of the play does not entirely make sense. Are the actors playing actors putting on a play? Are they the original characters in a dramatically different world? What exactly is this play trying to tell us?
The cast attempts to tackle the all-over-the-place script, but they can’t completely overcome its shortcomings. Ismene (Michelle Turner) is endearing, her sincerity standing out in the circus of melodramatic characters that surround her. Seth Thomas also stands out as a focused, strong, and occasionally explosive Polyneices.
It’s great to see a newer Austin theatre company tackling non-realistic and artistically challenging material. It doesn’t quite work here, but the company offers some promising talent nonetheless.
‘Post-Oedipus’ continues through April 11, Thursday- Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 2 p.m. at The Blue Theatre, 916 Springdale Road. $15. www.ggpg.org
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Daniel Brock.
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March 24, 2010
Review: 'The Phantom of the Opera'
“The Phantom of the Opera” is like the Las Vegas of musicals.
It’s full of glitz and glamour. It’s heavy on special effects (real fire! a Venetian style gondola floating on a river of fog!). And like the shimmering city in the desert, it’s a lot of fun, though you might feel guilty for liking it afterwards.
This dramatic gothic musical about unrequited love is the longest running show in Broadway’s history. The national tour of “ The Phantom of the Opera,” now playing at Bass Concert Hall, is the show’s final one—it closes this fall in Los Angeles.
“The Phantom of the Opera,” (directed by Harold Prince) is set at the Paris Opera House in the late nineteenth century. It tells the story of the Phantom (a deformed man who haunts the building) and his obsession with the young soprano Christine Daaé. His unrequited love for Christine, and his determination to make her a star, leads to much scheming, danger, and melodramatic mayhem.
The music (by Andrew Lloyd Webber, with lyrics by Charles Hart) is undeniably catchy, and the performers in the lead roles are quite good. As the young ingénue Christine, Trista Moldovan’s voice is light and airy. Tim Martin Gleason as the Phantom shows enormous vocal range and power. “All I Ask of You,” a duet between Christine and Raoul (Sean MacLaughlin), showcases the singers’ lovely harmonies, while in “Masquerade,” we hear the impressive power of the entire chorus.
“The Phantom of the Opera” has always been heavy on spectacle, and the visual elements of this production, (production design by Maria Bjornson and lighting by Andrew Bridge) are indeed still striking. The show is suffused with lavish sets, extravagant costumes and, of course, a famously large chandelier.
Perhaps it’s no surprise to say that the production, at times, suffers from a lack of freshness and surprise. For example, when the Phantom first makes his presence known by causing part of the set to crash, no one in the cast is able to act genuinely surprised. The first act has more energy and momentum than the second, and the music sounds somewhat dated, full of keyboards and synthesizers. But after a twenty year run, perhaps asking for freshness from “The Phantom of the Opera” is beside the point.
If you’re coming because you’re already a fan, you’ll be satisfied with this solid and professional production; if you’ve never seen it, you’ll likely be entertained by the sheer spectacle of it all. And if you can’t get enough of the Phantom and Christine, Webber’s new sequel “Love Never Dies,” has recently opened in London and will be heading to Broadway in the fall. Hide the chandeliers.
‘The Phantom of the Opera’ continues through April 4, Tuesday-Friday at 8 p.m.; Saturday at 2 p.m. & 8 p.m.; Sunday at 2 p.m. & 7:30 p.m. Bass Concert Hall, 2350 Robert Dedman Drive. Tickets $25-$72. www.BroadwayAcrossAmerica.com.
Claire Canavan is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
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March 16, 2010
Review: Ellen Fullman and the Long String Instrument
Venue and performer synched perfectly Sunday night when experimental composer and instrument creator Ellen Fullman brought her 100-foot Long String Instrument to the Seaholm Power Plant, a defunct 1930s power plant in downtown Austin.
Hosted by the New Music Co-op, Fullman installed her Long String Instrument in the Seaholm’s towering turbine hall — its cavernous corners, abandoned industrial fittings and dust-caked windows dramatically lit by lighting designer William Meadows.
Atmosphere is everything for Fullman, a self-taught musician who began her career as a sculptor (and who created the Long String Instrument when she lived in Austin from 1985 to 1997).
Yes, there’s the resonance from the enormous venue that accentuated the almost ethereal sound of Fullman’s instrument. But the visuals and the environmental - and the audience interaction with both — played an equally strong part in the 90-minute performance.
Coating her hands with rosin, the petite Fullman walks like a tight rope performer, one foot carefully in front of the other as she moves the length of her instrument, vibrating its long strings as she slowly moves.
And as if to acquaint the audience to exactly what she was doing, Fullman started with “Event Locations, No. 2” a solo piece she played with tiny surveillance cameras attached to each of her wrists. The detail of her hands on the strings projected in black-and-white on a wall several yards away.
The magnificient ‘Adaptations from Stratified Bands: Last Kind Word’ was a re-setting for of Fullman’s epic piece composed in 2002 for the Kronos Quatret. Fullman was joined by New Music Co-op members James Alexander (violin), Henna Chou (cello) and Travis Weller (violin) whose fixed string instruments provided a kind of tonal grounding against the ethereal bent pitches of the Long String Instrument. Fullman used as a starting point for the piece a haunting 1930s blues song which echoed throughout.
Weller and Nicke Hennies joined Fullman on the box bow — the boxes are handle-held rhythmic devices used to play Fullman’s string instrument more rhythmicall — for ‘Time Crossing.’ Developed as Fullman’s homage to the sound of the harmonica in folk music, the box bow created repeated rhythms that jigged along sounding also sometimes like an accordion or a pump organ or a harmonium or a couple of banjoes or even the vestiges of marching band heard from a distance.
Its simple harmonies — characterized by big wide open fourths and fifths — bore the unmistakable sounds of early American folk music, at once joyous and plaintive and nostalgic.
Though there were seats for the sold-out audience of 250 (the second of two shows last weekend), people were invited to move quietly around the vast turbine hall. And wander they did, some slipping off to far corners, others drawing closer to the musicians. One woman danced free form. A woman and her young daughter paraded the perimeter of the crowd for a while quietly swinging hands.
As shadows in the industrial setting grew deeper as the night outside darkened, the audience only seemed to grow more engaged. As the last sounds resonated resonated, people seemingly froze for a moment — venue, musicians and audience by then in perfect synch.
Photos by Dell Hollingsworth.
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March 15, 2010
Review: Austin Symphony Orchestra, Douglas Harvey, cello
The shout of ‘bravo’ came a micro second after cellist Douglas Harvey let go of the last note of Strauss’ ‘Don Quixtoe’ at the Long Center Friday night.
Loud, clear, sincere — that ‘bravo’ packed a kind of spontaneous emotion rarely witnessed from an Austin Symphony Orchestra audience.
The kudos were deserved. Harvey, who is principal cellist for ASO, delivered an emotionally thoughtful, musically wise interpretation of Strauss’ vivid, spirited tone poem that tells the story of Cervantes’ picaresque novel through a series of lush yet highly caricaturesque variations.
Conductor Peter Bay kept the tempos moderate and sympathetic to Strauss very literal musical interpretation of Don Quixote’s imaginative adventures without letting the sometimes satirical piece from turning into caricature. The whimsy was just right; So was the pathos of Quixote’s misguided adventures.
Other orchestral soloists featured in the piece — concertmistress Jessica Mathaes and violaist Bruce Williams — deftly handling Strauss’ conversation-like musical dialogue.
Indeed, ASO is to be complimented for featuring soloist talent from its own ranks rather than hosting a guest soloist: It should happen more often.
Bay organized the evening’s program around works that celebrated literature and hence also presented Dukas’ The Sorcerer’s Apprentice and Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet Fantasy-Overture. With pieces both so often excerpted and rehashed in popular culture, they could remain indistinct, or worse, exaggerated. But again, Bay kept things nicely measured and sharp, allowing for a full-bodied presentation of each lush, fantastical work to take shape. No cartooning here.
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It was more than a little auspicious Sunday afternoon at the Paramount Theatre that opera singer Barbara Smith Conrad was greeted with waves of applause and standing ovations during the premiere of “When I Rise,” the intelligent, poignant and ultimately liberating documentary by Austin filmmaker Mat Hames chronicling Conrad’s life.
After all, when Conrad was a gifted young music student at the University of Texas in 1957 — part of the first group of African Americans to be admitted as undergraduates to Texas’ flagship university - she wasn’t initially allowed into the Paramount to see a film that her drama professor sent the class to see.
Produced under the auspices of UT’s Briscoe Center for American History, “When I Rise” is ultimately about the extraordinary grace of an extraordinary woman.
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March 13, 2010
Review: Ballet Afrique
Ballet Afrique, Austin’s new African American dance company, weaves their vision of African American culture through ever facet of their work.
The result: their Friday show at Salvage Vanguard was a fascinating, intelligent blend of a variety of African American dance vocabularies—a dense collage of West African dance, jazz, modern and ballet. (And yes, every one of those traditions has roots in African American art. American ballet’s rhythmic complexity owes substantial debt to African American jazz.)
Led by founding executive director China Smith and artistic director Leah Smiley Tubbs, who choreographed all of Friday’s seven pieces, Ballet Afrique adds an exciting dimension to Austin’s dance community. It’s wrong that in 2010 it’s still rare to see an American contemporary dance company with multiple performers of color, but it’s great that Ballet Afrique’s six talented female dancers are stepping into the void.
Tubbs, who creates incredibly technically difficult work, has found dancers who meet her challenges head-on. Sade’ M. Jones spent most of the solo “Through the Silence” standing one leg. The precarious position eventually suggested a resolute desire to stand strong in the face of obstacles.
In “Nina Remixed,” the full company proved their versatility, moving across a choreographic palette that included the swinging, pulsing rhythms of arm-swinging West African movements; hip-grinding jazz isolations, and balletic pirouettes. Every step had a confident posture—an attitude that made it easy to overlook the occasional wobble.
The dancers’ self-possessed performance quality meant some moments offered a glimpse of emotional depth that will surely grow with the company. Adriana Ray’s acting made “At Play” an apt and hilarious depiction of the power struggles of childhood games. Daniele Martin’s intensity in the solo “Reset” made a relatively simple choreographic conceit, a fight to untangle the dancer’s bound arms, a statement on how persistence is central to self-empowerment. Tubbs’ solo in “Nina Remixed” saw the fantastically strong dancer use her physical agility to communicate a sense of internal turmoil.
Welcome to Austin dance Ballet Afrique. We need you.
The show continues tonight at 8 p.m. at Salvage Vanguard Theater, 2803 Manor Road. www.balletafrique.org
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March 9, 2010
Review: Thang Dao's 'Quiet Imprint,' Ballet Austin II
Love stories between a man and woman (often of royal parentage) enjoy narrative hegemony in ballet. But Ballet Austin and choreographer Thang Dao proved ballet can be (and should be) a tool for telling other stories, too.
Ballet Austin II, Ballet Austin’s apprentice company, premiered Dao’s “Quiet Imprint” this weekend at Ballet Austin’s AustinVentures Studio.
Dao paired contemporary ballet with the smoky, almost bluesy voice of Vietnamese singer Khanh Ly to tell Vietnamese Americans’ stories of growing up in Vietnam during waves of war and violence. The series of vignettes to ten songs, performed live by Ly, hinted at narrative, but more compellingly portrayed a emotional landscape of survival: fierce struggle in the face of sorrow.
Dao crafts an image of a community of undulating bodies of rocking and swaying dancers. A couple swims forward from the group, but just as quickly the group swells to swallow them. No man nor woman ever seems representative of a single character, but the dancers gain identities through relationships. In an early section, a series of women perhaps mourn a lost love. The pairs intertwine their bodies, but never seem to see each other, as though a memory, not an actual man lifts each woman.
In general, the piece’s partnered choreography is strong because Dao imagine partnering as much more than one man lifting one woman. Some of the most interesting partnering features two quartets. In each two men and a woman work together to lift the other man.
The slow rock of Ly’s singing shapes much of the piece’s movement, but one section — really, one movement — stands out as sharply defiant. The cast circles the stage, one at a time interrupting their running fist-pumping, foot-punching jumps.
So much in this ballet is sad, but the dancers seem to refuse to go down under the emotional weight. Similarly, Ballet Austin II’s young dancers face Dao’s choreographic challenges thoughtfully. The dancers explore what it means to give into gravity, often letting their legs lead as their torsos ripple slowly behind.
It’s exciting to see young dancers trying out new ways to move and, equally exciting that Ballet Austin, by commissioning now a fourth from Dao, has made a long-term commitment to an emerging voice.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
March 1, 2010
Review: 'Albert Herring,' Butler Opera Center
Though it debuted in 1947, Benjamin Britten’s comic opera has only fairly recently gotten the love from the opera world with productions popping up on calendars more and more.
The University of Texas’ Butler Opera Center mounts a comely new production of its own which opened this past weekend.
Perhaps it’s Britten’s particularly cruel British comedic sensibility hits home with today’s audiences? Then again, perhaps it’s only now that Britten’s status as one of the greatest composers of the 20th century is now a given.
Like his more popular opera ‘Peter Grimes,’ Britten’s ‘Albert Herring’ centers on an outsider character misunderstood by uptight British society as represented by a small town riven with hypocrisy and intolerance.
Based on a short story by Guy de Maupassant — but thoroughly British in Britten’s interpretation — ‘Albert Herring’ is vicious satire on societal propriety as portrayed in early 20th-century Britain that leaves no character unscathed.
When the autocratic Lady Billows (in this production played by soprano Emily Ward) finds no suitably chaste young woman to be crowned May Queen in the village’s annual celebration, she is convinced by the a council of villagers to elect the hapless grocer Albert Herring (tenor Brad Raymond). Albert is, after all, a simpering momma’s boy.
After being dressed in the clownish humiliating May King costume for the village festival, Albert benefits from a glass of surreptiously spiked lemonade which leads him on an all-night bender. After a night of reckless wanton behavior, Albert returns to the village defiant in his new-found embrace life’s more licentious behavior.
The notable highlight of UT’s production was the orchestra led by Jim Lowe, the Butler Opera Center’s new conductor. Lowe (whose resumes includes stints with Houston Grand Opera and conducting the recent Tony Award-winning Broadway revival of ‘Gypsy’ starring Patti LuPone) wrested considerable panache out of the 12-piece chamber orchesrta of student musician. And that’s not an easy feat given that Britten’s score is chock full of deft musical craftsmanship and witty, ironic references to both the whole operatic canon and popular British music. (Britten quotes everything form Gilbert and Sullivan operattas, Baroque operas and even the late Romanticism of Richard Strauss). Lowe’s musical direction is some of the best seen yet from the Bulter Opera Center.
Though the voices in Sunday night’s cast were generally good, (a few secondary roles are double cast), Marc Reynolds’s limp stage direction left some cast members and their characters adrift.
Those who rose above it — and whose voices also stood out — shone.
Raymond makes Albert his own dramatically and vocally, utterly convincing at first as the hapless nerd, a convincing buffoon as the May King and finally a rather sardonic convert to life’s pleasures — and musically strong and distinct throughout.
As Albert’s erstwhile buddy Sid, baritone James Van Rens (who recently had a small part in Austin Lyric Opera’s charming ‘The Star’) was the complete opera package: a performer with excellent comedic acting chops and a rich voice full of clarity and seasoned with superb articulation.
Ditto with baritone Brian Pettery, in a secondary role as the Vicar. Vocal clarity and theatrical aplomb made his character stand out in a cast filled with many secondary characters.
An awkward set by Anne McMeeking had a split staircase serving as the main scenic element but its institutional modernist style were out-of-place next to Michaele Hite’s luscious period costumes.
Though in places uneven, this production of ‘Albert Herring’ nevertheless gives notice that this bitterly funny Britten comedy is not to be ignored.
‘Albert Herring’ continues at 7:30 p.m. March 5 and March 7. McCullough Theatre, UT campus. $20 ($10 for students). www.music.utexas.edu.
Photo by Jon Smith.
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Review: New Music Co-op 'Invisible Landscapes'
Silence permeated the new compositions played Saturday night by Austin’s New Music Co-op at Ceremony Hall, one of three different concerts — under the banner ‘Invisible Landscapes’ — the music collective presented which focused on the music of California-based composer Michael Pisaro in collaboration with percussionist Greg Stuart.
Warm water morphing into air was the primary image behind Pisaro’s ‘Ascending Series(7) (Evaporation),’ a 25-minute piece. A commission from the New Music Co-op, called for seven bowed instruments — in this case two violins, a viola, a bass and three percussionists who used bows on the rims of floor tom drums to create a soft, ethereal scraping sound. ‘Ascending’ started with a tone that formed something of backbone of the sound. Then, after slowly crescendoing, the tone seemed to evaporate, longer stretches of silence marrying the ever quieter moments of the almost white noise coming from the percussive bowing. Ambient noises from outside the auditorium made delightful guest appearances while ‘Ascending’ demanded careful, meditative listening.
New Music Co-op member Nick Hennies debuted his ‘Second Skin With Lungs’ which had five musicians at floor toms making a circle around the audience. Slowing using their hands to make circular motions across the drum skins, the musicians created a gentle wave of sound, sometime no more than a whisper.
Also getting a debut was Travis Weller’s ‘Toward and Away From the Point of Balance,’ a mesmerizing 10-minute piece for a string trio and The Owl, Weller’s inventive 16-string instrument that produces haunting sounds. Toward’ arched from silence to purpose and back to silence with moody slivers of harmony roughed up a bit with the string players injecting near-silent and other-worldly scraping sounds.
Sound may have been the product of Saturday’s concert, but, cleverly, silence emerged as the subtle star.
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February 23, 2010
Review: 'Black Grace'
Unison, the portions of a dance piece where dancers move in perfect synchronicity, can be a powerful choreographic tool.
This is not news to legions of choreographers, but perhaps no company harnesses unison’s power better than Black Grace. The New Zealand-based company, at UT’s Bass Concert Hall Saturday, pushes unison to another level. The dancers inject such intensity into dancing together they achieve oxymoronic status—they are so unified they seem to move with more than unison.
The company’s choreography, by artistic director and company founder Neil Ieremia, invites such unity through sophisticated, sustained simplicity. “Deep Far” employed cyclical repetition to entrancing effect. Four dancers—Tupua Tigafua, David Williams, Abby Crowther, and Zoe Watkins—seamlessly slid around and across a circle. The piece’s layered repetition made the closing moment astonishing. The four dancers interlaced their bodies. Each couple locked their legs together and opened their chests and arms to the soft, still sound of a storm’s first drops. It seemed as though the repeated movement allowed the dancers to open their bodies, not just their mouths, to the falling rain.
Ieremia functioned as the show’s emcee, explaining from center stage how he combines Pacific Islander culture with modern dance to create Black Grace’s repertory. The informative interludes likely made the program more accessible for an audience unfamiliar with Pacific Islander culture. Ieremia’s tone, which bordered on stand-up comedy, undercut some of his more potent political statements.
The collection of six pieces displayed Black Grace’s range of cultural hybridity. Lausae (Tapulu Tele) depicted the Samoan tattooing tradition. Men spread themselves across three large stones as other dancers mimed the wiping of blood: a depiction of the intense, full-bodied tattooing process. Screams and the sounds of tapping echoed from the accompanying score.
Such obvious references (at least obvious after Ieremia’s introduction) could be too simple, but they build into a large theatrical and kinetic vision. For much of the piece, the dancers fly across the stage—a choreographic pattern repeated to even more excitement in “Gathering Clouds,” which Ieremia choreographed in response to an economist racist publications about Pacific Islander in New Zealand.
The giant rocks in “Lausaue,” New Zealand’s famous river stones, were one of several stunning design choices. The lighting design for all the pieces (uncredited in the program) shaped large group dancing. At the end of “Pati Pati,” the ensemble moved slowly. Light carved shapes across the dancers’ bare shoulders. Then, the dancers turned toward each other, their repeated reaches skyward seemingly drawing bright yellow light into the center of the circle. As the dancers strode backwards into the wings, the light expanded. This company leaves a trace of light behind them wherever they appear.
Clare Croft is an American-Statesman freelance arts critic.
Photo by Neil Ieremia.
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February 21, 2010
Review: 'A Brief Narrative of An Extraordinary Birth of Rabbits'
Where do we really come from? Is our imagination as procreative as, say, actual human procreation?
Those seem to be the questions which attempt to poke out from underneath the dark carnival of ‘A Brief Narrative of An Extraordinary Birth of Rabbits,’ C. Denby Swanson’s bumpy, imperfect new play getting its premiere at Salvage Vanguard Theater under the direction of Jenny Larson.
Swanson takes as her source material the odd but true tale of an early 18th-century English woman who claimed to have given birth to several rabbits or parts of rabbits. Some notable physicians of the time, including the King’s surgeon, confirmed the woman’s reports though she later recanted that her claims were a hoax, causing a terrific upheavel in the then-nascent medical profession.
Against a backdrop of striped sideshow tents, Swanson’s take on this tale involves a woman, Mare (an energetic, expressive Robin Grace Thompson), who has agreed to be artificially inseminated so that her sister, Kitty, (Halena Kays) may have a much-desired child. But Mare gives instead birth to rabbits — 24 of them.
Enter a stork who is a doctor or maybe it’s the other way around (the compelling and kinetic Josh Meyer). Add a trio of puppet German doctors (created by Connor Hopkins and played Hopkins and Matt Hislope) and a man who may or may not be dog (Shaun Patrick Tubbs).
Only the stork’s monologues tame the pace of the rapidly shifting and sometimes chaotic scenes.
But for all the absurdity, for all the manic theatrics and dark crazy artifice that flashes bright at time — and despite some uniformly good acting — Swanson’s script never quite scoops all bits together.
‘A Brief Narrative of An Extraordinary Birth of Rabbits’ continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays through March 6 at Salvage Vanguard. www.salvagevanguard.org.
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