Weekend Reviews

A shot of Austin, straight from the Jug

Music: South Austin Jug Band
Theater: "Marvin's Room"
Music: Terri Clark
Art Exhibit: "Livefeed"
Music: The Mountain Goats
Theater: "MacBeth"

Web posted: March 28, 2005

The presumably college-aged girl buck dancing in front of Momo's stage didn't really have an option other than to let the sketchy, older guy with tendrils drooping in front of his eyes demonstrate, rather close to her it must be said, that he, too, was hip to the Appalachian way of life. Once the song was over and they had traded soles, Will Dupuy, the singing, upright bassist for South Austin Jug Band, a gang of ragamuffins amalgamating what Jerry Garcia accomplished with Mother McCree's Uptown Jug Champions, Old & In the Way, and, finally, with "dawg" mandolinist David Grisman, deadpanned, "Thanks for the lovely dancing."

Now, Dupuy may have been telling the truth, but considering the trickery behind his band's name, questioning his sincerity isn't asking too much. For one, there ain't no banjo, no washtub bass, no, well, jug in which to blow. A perusal of SAJB's Web site reveals that the name isn't meant to be taken literally, just as a representation of a certain style of regional music — bluegrass, roots, etc.

Second, and more importantly, even though members of the band live below the Colorado, they've found success inspiring wannabe cosmic cowboys, hippies and sorority girls with a wild streak to sing drunkenly along to their recurring sets at north-of-the-border Momo's, which leads one to believe that the name South-Central Austin Jug Band is more befitting.

Mismarketing (or marketing acumen) aside, members of the SAJB are a bartender's best friend when they aren't lost in the music. Before creeping into another jam-based, too-young-to-sound-gritty track off their Lloyd Maines-produced eponymous debut, or Jimi Hendrix or Bob Wills cover, or new original, Dupuy, flanked by players seemingly barely old enough to belly up to a bar, asked no one in particular, "Can we get four Coronas and two shots of Patron?" Lead singer/guitarist James Hyland responded, "Make that four shots of Patron." Not to be outdone, Dupuy added, "And some hookers and crack." Meanwhile, Warren Hood, formerly with SAJB and now with the Hoodlums, was communing with the spirit of his father, Champ, about ways in which to show up his counterparts the following night on the same stage.
— Michael Hoinski

Theater

MAKE ROOM FOR PLAY THEATRE GROUP

The Austin theater scene is like an open meadow at the beginning of spring: There are a few scattered trees, secure in their positions (Zachary Scott or the State); some smaller, yet similarly sturdy bushes (Vortex or the Hyde Park Theatre); and countless shrubs that, despite their beauty, might not last the summer. These are the alt theaters that sprout up around town, and which, in fighting for the sunlight, often take each other out. Only the strongest ever survive. Judging from the Play Theatre Group's inaugural production of "Marvin's Room," the meadow may have to make space for one more bush.

Scott McPherson's "Room" follows two estranged sisters, Bessie and Lee, on their journey to mutual understanding. While Bessie has spent the past two decades caring for their aging father and aunt, Lee has been struggling to raise two boys, the introverted Charlie and the misunderstood Hank, on her own. When Bessie is diagnosed with leukemia, the two sisters' paths once again cross.

Helmed by Play's artistic director and co-founder Lisa Scheps, this "Room" was both sincere and affecting. Given Plays' intimate thrust theater (in a newly renovated building in the residential East Side), Scheps was able to accentuate the intense emotion in McPherson's script without overdoing it. Almost unanimously, the cast delivered. University of Texas student Andrew Ruth brought a certain vulnerability to Hank, though his character was admittedly underdeveloped. Lana Dieterich's Aunt Ruth injected some genuine hilarity. As Charlie, young Wesley Bronez heartily fleshed out a distinctly secondary role. And Rebecca Robinson's Lee, despite moments of shrillness, played like a pitiable heap of contradictions.

But it was Bobbie Oliver, in a triumphant performance as Bessie, who warranted the most praise. In addition to creating a heartbreaking portrait of unsolicited responsibility, Oliver elevated the game of everyone around her. She was the graceful centerpiece of a well-decorated "Room." ("Marvin's Room" continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, through April 3. Play Theatre Group, 1204 Cedar Ave., $20, 891-7100, www.playtheatregroup.org.)
— Tommy O'Malley

Music

CLARK TROTS OUT HITS FOR SOLID RODEO SHOW

The spotlight caught Terri Clark as she strode toward the round stage in the center of the arena. In boot-cut Wranglers, a pink T-shirt, straw hat and rough-out boots, Clark looked like a woman who might have just finished in the money at the barrel-racing competition instead of the platinum-selling Nashville star she happens to be. At the Star of Texas Fair and Rodeo on Friday, she fit right in. "It's great to be in a place where I'm not the only girl wearing a cowboy hat," she exclaimed.

Musically and sartorially, Clark is the antithesis of her fellow Canadian, Shania Twain. Long before Gretchen Wilson started mopping up the charts with a similar incarnation, Clark had perfected her "this girl's just one of the guys" persona.

Lyrically at least, Clark suffers no fools gladly. Brushing off one loser in "Better Things To Do," she enumerates the pressing priorities awaiting her ("I could wash my car in the rain/Change my new guitar strings"). She turns Warren Zevon's "Poor, Poor Pitiful Me" on its head, rendering the song instead as a rocking, mocking testament of strength. And she takes undisguised malicious joy in revealing to self-centered meatheads that, hey fellas, "Girls Lie Too."

Clark essayed a few other songs from a forthcoming new album, the most noteworthy being a honky-tonk take on current events called "I Think the World Needs A Drink." But, it being the rodeo and all, she hewed close to the hits the fans had come to hear. She did, in fact, essay every single one of the cuts from her current greatest-hits album, albeit some in abbreviated versions. That compressed focus emphasized a certain unfortunate sameness in tempo and melody among many of her best-known tunes. What fans might view as admirable consistency can also be read as a reluctance to stretch.

To underscore the point, one of Clark's most compelling performances of the evening was the ballad, "No Fear," which she co-authored with Mary Chapin Carpenter, and which displays the detailed imagery and hooky melodic turnarounds that characterize the best of Carpenter's own work.

But what the hey. Following a bunch of bull riders is not the best forum to delve into musical nuance. Clark delivered a solid performance, built around an enviable string of hit singles, and delivered with a straightforward enthusiasm — she swings a Telecaster like Xena used to swing a broadsword — that was downright refreshing. If the cowboy hat fits, wear it.
— John T. Davis

Art

'LIVEFEED' LAYERS MEANING UPON MEANING

SAN MARCOS — Press a red button; then the installation "Livefeed" by artist Jeff Shore (Houston) and Jon Fisher (Austin) begins. A drumbeat sounds, wall-mounted boxes illuminate/pulsate and a black and white video projection appears on a far wall. Walk around a bit, trying to take in the sequence of events and eventually realize the scenes on the wall come from dioramas set up within the light boxes. Tiny probelike cameras inside the boxes pan over uninhabited miniature scenes of a long hallway with a closed door at its end, the interior of an apartment, the interior of an airplane and an aerial view of a landscape. Accompanying the electro-mechanical elements of "Livefeed" is a swelling soundtrack, ranging in mood, from dark to uplifting.

Unfortunately my description does not do this intelligent, multitextured and multimedia installation work justice. The collaborative project possesses all of the hallmarks of good contemporary art. It is relevant, complex, stimulating and may be interpreted on a number of levels — so many that I cannot address them all. However, in a palpable sense, it underscores our experience of time and the construction of space.

Shore says, "I am especially interested in the transformation that occurs when the viewer becomes informed," and that he hopes viewers experience a feeling a of discovery. If Shore or Fisher had seen two wide-eyed young boys sitting on the gallery floor, wonderfully immersed in the music and imagery, and me goofily blurting out "Oh ... I get it," they would have known they had succeeded.

Real-time footage of "Livefeed" can also be accessed via the Internet (another layer) at livefeed.shofish.net, but the exhibition should be seen and heard within the gallery setting.

"Jeff Shore and John Fisher: Livefeed" continues 8 a.m. to 11 p.m., Mondays-Fridays, 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. Saturdays & Sundays through April 13, Texas State University Gallery I, Mitte Building, Sessom and Comanche Streets, free, 512-245-2611.
— Erin Keever

Music

DARNIELLE TAKES THE ROAD LESS REQUESTED

Surely, few performers are bombarded with as many song requests as John Darnielle got from a full house last week at Emo's. The boyish, self-effacing singer avoided the most frequently shouted title (a bitter splitsville anthem called "No Children") as well as the song most fans would have loved to hear but considered too obvious to request ("Cubs in Five"). Instead he opened with a poem about George Jones and a disastrous orange juice cocktail, flirted with a Metallica cover and sprinkled glimpses of his upcoming album among a good sampling of his large back catalog.

The Mountain Goats consist of Darnielle plus whatever backup he chooses at the moment; Wednesday, his voice and acoustic guitar were joined by an electric bass. (A drummer joined in briefly near the end.) His new album ("The Sunset Tree") employs a wider instrumental palette, but the more important shift is that Darnielle has been writing about his own youth for the first time; the record is a triumph, and new songs here like "Dance Music" and "Song For Dennis Brown" gave fans a tantalizing peek at it.

In between the new tunes were songs about lonely rooms, Midwestern locales, dangerous seals and monkeys that come from nowhere. The crowd ate it up, but Darnielle let nothing go to his head — his "thank you" was as sincere as the clean, keening voice with which he sang of powder-keg love and other dangerous habits.
— John DeFore

Theater

NOTHING MEATY IN 'MACBETH' BUT THE MISSUS

When Shakespeare is done well, it's like a filet mignon — juicy, satisfying and well worth the investment. When it's not, it's closer to a Big Mac — sloppy, bland and difficult to digest. The Renaissance Austin Theatre Company's production of "Macbeth," despite one standout performance, unfortunately fit into the latter category.

"Macbeth" unfolds around the moral and psychological demise of the titular King of Scots. Bursting with ruminations on the corruptive influence of power, the tragedy holds a special place in modern canon as well. Given its grand settings, broad scope and lush language, "Macbeth" practically begs for hyperbolic interpretation. So why the monotonous air crafted by director Lorella Loftus — who also starred as Lady Macbeth? Loftus over-emphasized the relationship between Macbeth and his villainous Lady, while largely ignoring the meatier subplots. As a result, the rise to climax was as gratifying as a late-December dip in Barton Springs.

Adding to the directorial woes, several members of the cast turned in wince-worthy performances. The Three Witches — conceived by Una Taylor, Nadia Loftus and Anne Marshall (who was particularly mediocre as Lady MacDuff) — looked like catatonic washmaids as they drudged through the opening lines. Their borderline-comatose conveyance seemed contagious, as other cast members — particularly Steven Fay (Farquhar, et al.), Roger Borgelt (Duncan, et al.) and Brent Jacob (Seyton, et al.) — offered little in the way of emoting. It almost would have been more engaging had it just been a staged reading.

In the title role, Todd Porter was unquestionably passionate. He committed wholly to the role, devouring the lines like Marlon Brando at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Still, his Macbeth was peppered with too many Pacino-isms (read: shouting) to be considered great.

But that's not to say it was all bad. As Macbeth's more malevolent half, Lorella Loftus turned in an all-out performance that compensated for at least some of the production's numerous shortcomings.

"Macbeth" continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 6 p.m. Sundays through April 17, Dougherty Arts Center, 1110 Barton Springs Road, $6-$12, 431-6290.
— Tommy O'Malley