Reviews
'Nightswim' understands the heart and soul of Texas
... Trail of Dead | 'Love's Labor's Lost'
Conspirare | Gordy Quist
By Michael Barnes
Oct. 14, 2004
Without question the best play ever written about Austin, Steve Moore's 'Nightswim' deserves a place alongside the finest Texas dramas of all time. Only Horton Foote has so scrupulously rendered a specific time and a place in this state, without sacrificing literary language, human drama or profound insight.
Moore chose for his subjects three real Austinites -- Roy Bedichek, J. Frank Dobie and Walter Prescott Webb -- the inspirations behind the Philosophers' Rock sculpture at Barton Springs. A naturalist, a storyteller and a historian, the trio once defined popular literature in Austin, but fell into disfavor after their deaths (1959, 1964 and 1963 respectively).
 Photo by Brenda Ladd From left, Doug Taylor, David Stahl and Robert Faires portray Texas icons J. Frank Dobie, Roy Bedichek and Walter Prescott Webb with dignity and kindness in 'Nightswim,' which plays at the State Theater. |
But in those prosaic matters, Moore miraculously reveals what makes life worth living, here or anywhere else. His delicately wrought, elegiac drama rises to glowing perfection in director Katie Pearl's premiere production at the State Theater. Scenic designer Christopher McCollum secures the essences of land, water and sky, while Matt Frey illuminates this airy space with a diurnal naturalism.
The cast is terrific: Doug Taylor, Robert Faires and David Stahl play age with dignity and kindness, without relying on tricks. Each etches a very distinct character that resonates equally with the historical and the personal. Lowell Bartholomee contributes timely comic diversions as X. Austin should be very proud of Moore, his play and the State Theater, which went the extra mile to produce this rare gem.
("Nightswim" continues 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 2:30 p.m. Sundays through Oct. 24, State Theater, 719 Congress Ave., $23-$40, 469-SHOW.)
Music
BRIGHT EYES, BAD SOUND, SO MUCH PAIN
It was hard to decide which of the three guys performing on the Paramount Theatre stage Saturday was more deserving of the Morose-y Award -- an unofficial honor bestowed upon artists whose work appears most influenced by the former Smiths frontman more commonly known as Morrissey.
Acoustic guitar master M. Ward, who delivered what had to be the most mournful version ever of David Bowie's "Let's Dance," was the first contender. Jim James of My Morning Jacket failed to beat Ward's psychic pain levels, but he did display Morose-y worthy behavior by requesting to have the stage lights turned off. He also gave a rendition of Willie Nelson's signature ballad, "Always on My Mind," that was even more funereal than Willie's. Together, Ward and James offered a spot-on Bob-Dylan-meets-Neil-Young variation on Dylan's doomed "Billy." Neither, however, could match Mr. Bright Eyes himself, Conor Oberst, who at 24 is the reigning champion of musical misery -- the King of Pain for the post-Sting generation. No wonder the dude dwells on themes of drinking and chemicals. Anyone who's been recording his agonized wallowings since the age of 13 has a lot of sorrow-drowning to do.
True, the creativity and depth of his confessional storytelling are remarkable. But it might have even more impact without being set to the unrelenting despair of his music. There's a lot to be said for allowing such despondency to bleed itself out on the printed page instead of forcing it through a sound system -- especially when the audio engineer has almost no concept of what he's doing. The question "How can one screw up an acoustic show in an awesome theater setting?" came to mind as vocals cranked to shrill level and distorted guitar sounds pierced the house.
Most of the audience loved all three hours of what it apparently regarded as sweet pain. But for at least one listener, it exploded the barometer of masochism.
Morose-y would be proud.
-- Lynne Margolis
Music
A TRAIL OF THOUGHT AND FURY
The pre-tour hometown show is an important ritual for any hard-touring act. They warm up in front of a friendly crowd, many of whom they know by name, work out some kinks and generally get their heads on straight for a nice, long slog on the road. And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead spent much of 2004 putting together "Worlds Apart," the follow-up to 2002's "Source Tags and Codes." It's been a long time since they played Austin, and maybe that explains the crowded but less-than-sold-out show at Emo's last Thursday.
After a strong set from Forget Cassettes, who made the most out of a guitar and drums lineup, Trail of Dead took the stage sporting an extra drummer and a new bassist, the Rise's Danny Wood, who replaces the departed Neil Busch. With two drummers and plenty of keyboard, the show was shot through with a tangible "let's see how this goes" attitude. Leader/guitarist/singer/superego Conrad Keely and drummer/guitarist/id Jason Reece still balance each other perfectly; when the show got a little too prog (check out that piano on the brand-new "Summer of '91"), Reece was there to bring back the danger. Well, some of the danger. Trail of Dead seem to have wandered out of the smashing-instruments stage to focus on material alternately contemplative and explosive. They closed with "Mistakes and Regrets" by audience request, which begs the questions, why not their brilliant tune "Mark David Chapman"? He was just denied parole, for Pete's sake. Maybe when they come back to Emo's on Nov. 13.
-- Joe Gross
Theater
A 'LABOR' THAT WORKS, OFF AND ON
Language gets a gymnast's workout in Shakespeare's "Love's Labor's Lost" as five men who have forsworn love to pursue their studies find themselves unable to resist feminine charms. Will the boys get the girls; will the girls one-up the boys? If wooing is really a game of words and wit, can love find time and space to grow?
Bedlam Faction views its productions as collaborative ventures with the entire cast acting as directors and designers. It is a rambunctious approach that usually makes for some inspired highs and some "ouch, please cut that" lows. This production of "Love's Labor's Lost" follows the company's erratic pattern.
On the inspired side, the use of song and music added energy and comic punctuation to the action. It's a treat when "Total Eclipse of the Heart" finds its way into a Shakespeare play and fits the moment. A number of performances are also quite clever and enjoyable, including Robert Matney as Berowne and Liz Fisher as Rosaline, who are the sparring precursors to Benedick and Beatrice in "Much Ado about Nothing." It may be hard to understand much of what Robert Dieke says as the crazy Spaniard Don Adriano de Armado, but his legs rival those of Tina Turner. His sidekick, Moth, played by Rebecca Crown, suggested a more corporeal and teasing Ariel.
There are places, though, where meaning gets lost, probably because of both delivery problems and the fact that Shakespeare has outdone himself with the verbal tumbling. It's almost as if the Bard knew the audience's ears and wits needed a rest, and he closes with a sobering country song that touches on basic fears and needs, on the springs and winters of life.
("Love's Labor's Lost" continues 8 p.m. Thursdays--Saturdays, 5 p.m. Sundays through Oct. 23, The Blue Theatre, 916 Springdale Road, $10-$12, Thursdays pay-what-you-can, 589-2332. www.bedlamfaction.com.)
-- Jamie Smith Cantara
Music
CONSPIRARE FINDS ITS VOICES
Because Craig Hella Johnson and the amazing voices of Conspirare are still human, there was some warming up at the start of the program performed Sunday afternoon at St. Matthew's Episcopal Church. Individual sections gradually achieved their blended sound; thicker harmonies gradually became more clearly voiced and better balanced. Then in the fourth selection, Frank Ticheli's "There Will Be Rest," things started to click in a big way. I scribbled in my program, "Bingo: Clarity of pitch, harmony, text, balance."
While the quality in the rest of the first half remained high, there were peaks and valleys. The highest peak occurred in the last of the selections from William Averitt's "Afro-American Fragments" to poems by Langston Hughes, a recurring refrain with the text "Fire, Fire, Lord!" The rhythmic energy here was arresting, and the unified strength of the F consonants raised the temperature of the music to white heat.
It turned out that the really good stuff was yet to come, because the best moments in the second half achieved remarkable levels of concentration and a kind of mystical melding of the minds of poet, composer, conductor and singers. Alberto Ginastera's "Lamentations of Jeremiah" was throughout magnificently grim, but the very slow second movement was particularly intense, controlled and beautiful. "Ruth" by Paul Ayres, setting texts from the Old Testament books of Ruth, Proverbs and Psalms and composed for his wedding to his wife also named Ruth, was moving and passionate. Soprano Mela Dailey had both power and beauty for her solo in Richard Jackson's "Rock My Soul," and Johnson's setting of Stephen Foster's "Hard Times Come Again No More" brought together his sophisticated choral writing and Kathlene Ritch Brown's disarming, shimmering soprano. Ritch, tenor Christopher LeCluyse, a recorder and handbells had us weeping at the beauty of Sydney Carter's "The First of My Lovers." Taken together: genuine choral art.
-- David Mead
Music
 Photo from gordyquist.com Gordy Quist, who comes to Austin from the Houston area, has quickly gained notice with his voice and songwriting. |
GORDY QUIST, A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH
There's a new gunslinger in town. Gordy Quist's weapons of choice are not flaming guitars or an oversized attitude, but rather an authentic voice and adept songwriting. During last week's dalliance at the Saxon Pub, Quist, who is moving from the Houston area to Austin, played a few funky tunes with members of his sometime band, the Lucky Southerns, then peeled off some blues.
It's his country/folk solo persona, however, that's winning new admirers. Quist sings about daddies, heartbreak, hard work, drinking and the usual subjects, but he veers just this side of cliché, making the ordinary worth a second or third listen: "Can you hear it in my hands/I'm at work but I pretend/I'm on the porch as daylight fades/'Cause that's the way it used to be/When the songs played me."
Quist follows along the well-limned lines of Townes van Zandt and Robert Earl Keen, but his occasionally awkward lyrics live comfortably inside their own truths. His guitar work is not showy and his stage persona could use some burnishing, but that will likely come. He's a honest talent in the making. As the stranger on the next bar stool said, "He sounds like home."
(Quist launches his CD "Songs Play Me" at the Saxon Pub Oct. 22.)
-- Michael Barnes
