Weekend Reviews
The revolution won't be starting with this Steve Earle audience
Music: Steve Earle
Theater: FronteraFest Short Fringe
Art: Escapist Bookstore
Music: Austin Symphony Orchestra
Music: Ani DiFranco
Music: Gavin DeGraw
Theater: "Once Upon a Mattress"
Music: Shawn Colvin
Web posted: Feb. 7, 2005
"Now you're singin' like revolutionaries," Steve Earle reassured his fans after their second attempt to sing along with "Christmas In Washington." In truth, though, the crowd had all the fire and charisma of the John Kerry campaign; "Washington" is a beautiful song, but it's a lullaby, not a call to barricades.
So it went with Earle's whole set Thursday night at La Zona Rosa: His song introductions encouraged the crowd to think critically and get involved, his set list featured more tunes about revolution than an Anarchists' League benefit CD, but the performances themselves had none of the motivating passion that Earle clearly wants to deliver and the crowd headed home to sleep, not to an impromptu march on the Capitol. He may have opened the set by playing Gil Scott-Heron and closed it covering "Time Has Come Today," but the songwriter's own people-take-the-power anthems can rarely compete with their inspirations.
Inexplicably, Earle skipped the most potent track to emerge from his post-9/11 political rebirth: AWOL was "John Walker's Blues," a song that like Earle's best embodies its moral concerns through storytelling rather than polemics. The songwriter reminded us of his strengths with such numbers as "Taneytown" and "Copperhead Road," and the band occasionally caught fire on the older material. But in general, in a set boasting two encores, too many appearances by astringent guest-vocalist Allison Moorer and two separate announcements that "the revolution starts ... now!," Earle couldn't muster half the spirit needed to rouse a sluggish nation into action.
John DeFore
Theater
WOMEN SEEKING PLASTICWARE AND THEATER
The first and last pieces presented in FronteraFest Short Fringe's Best of Week Four were selected for Best of the Fest, which starts Tuesday. "Tupperwhere?" is a spirited musical fairy tale of the plastic kind set to cello by Nakia and William S. Rogers and Seth Bedford. Bedecked in pastel satin and chiffon, and snooty as can be, Nicola Phillips and Emily Tarquin are two twittering, singing and dancing sisters ready to host the biggest "Tupperwhere" party of the season. Drunk as a skunk Mother, played to the hilt by Lori Lundeen, escapes her airtight container and invites The Girl, a poor cousin whose voice was taken by the two sisters. Jennifer Leathers makes The Girl a gentle but determined soul. It is a silly, operatic piece marred only by a weak ending.
The last piece, "At Work/In Progress" by Sarah Collins, Kirk German and Heather Huggins, follows two women hoping to make it in theater. They send each other e-mails to remain sane during their awful day jobs. By night, they don the evil monkey costumes of "The Wizard of Oz" and wait for a chance to fly.
Between these two works came some pathos, Ninja warriors and maternal worries.
In "Dear Mr. President," letters written by the families of soldiers killed in Vietnam to President Lyndon Johnson were read, the decades-old content reminding of present-day Iraq. Foundation Stage Combat Group followed in "The Vessel: Crossroads." Scattered but very funny, this group of men told stories about their love of Ninja warriors and worked through a couple of fights. A highlight was the makeshift Ninja hood demonstration, proving that a besotted 13-year-old can do wonders with a common T-shirt. Three monologues by Rhonda F. Kulhanek in "The Mommy Confessions," brought forth the psyches of a jilted former beauty queen, a mother dealing with different types of loss and a no-nonsense great grandma.
(FronteraFest Short Fringe Best of Fest continues at 8 p.m. Tuesday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Saturday, Hyde Park Theatre, 511 W. 43rd St., $10-$15, 479-7529.)
Jamie Smith Cantara
Art
ALBUM COVERS AND POSTER ART WORTH THE ESCAPE
Many know that exhibition openings are not always the best times to see art. One such occasion was last Friday's opening reception of "New Work by William Schaff and Mark Pedini" at bookstore-cum-gallery Escapist Bookstore. Masses of twenty-to-thirtysomethings hit the South First Street space to "see" work by artists, Schaff and Pedini and "hear" Austin-based band Okkervil River, not necessarily in that order.
Rhode Island-based artist and Rhode Island School of Design alumnus Schaff is known for illustrating album covers for you guessed it Okkervil River. He's also done album artwork for such bands as Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Songs: Ohia and Havanarama.
Unfortunately I missed seeing Okkervil River play. Yet lodged between people in line for the bar, I managed to squeeze in a sneak peek at the art.
Schaff's scratchboard prints exude phantasmagorical qualities. Bodily orifices, usually mouths, drip with skeletons, flowers, flames and word bubbles. Recurring characters appear in intimate domestic settings, desperate, vulnerable or at least disturbed. In perhaps his largest composition, Schaff took on 9/11, displaying the deceased as human foliage falling from towering tree trunks.
In contrast, Pedini's work is lighter in feel, more colorful and energetic. Influenced by Daniel Clowes, Peter Bagge and Robert Crumb, Pedini admits to feeling inhibited when depicting narrative or sequential action. Instead he focuses on the single screen-printed image, likening it to the way individual stimuli dart across the brain. Pedini is a fixture on the Austin poster-art scene and has made posters for Polyphonic Spree, Bad Religion and Bright Eyes, to name a few. Escapist Bookstore is a small room, with one bookcase in the way of books. They are however, part of a continuing community of people interested in blurring the lines between music, art and illustration, an Austin tradition since its counterculture days as well as a trend in certain hotspots, mostly college towns, around the nation.
("New Work by William Schaff and Mark Pedini" continues noon-5 p.m., Thursdays-Saturdays, and by appointment, Escapist Bookstore, 2209 S. First St., Suite D, free, 912-1777.)
Erin Keever
MUSIC
ENERGY TRICKLES BEFORE SYMPHONY'S FINAL FLOOD
The three compositions making up the first half of Friday's performance by the Austin Symphony Orchestra at Bass Concert Hall, each unusual in its way, were played accurately and in tune, but never came fully to life.
Felix Mendelssohn's concert overture on "The Tale of Fair Melusine" is very good though not a masterpiece, with the mermaid's joys and sorrows portrayed in a pre-Victorian manner more old-fashioned than moving. On Friday it made a pleasant opener. Tobias Picker's "Old and Lost Rivers," commissioned by the Houston Symphony in 1986, is a musical tribute to a pair of Texas bayous. This short work succeeds in capturing the sense of water meandering aimlessly across a featureless, open space. Unfortunately, that very success left me wondering what Picker wanted this music to say.
Piano soloist Hsing-Ay Hsu and conductor Peter Bay next took on Samuel Barber's Piano Concerto, a full-length concerto for a big orchestra in which the dissonant stretches sound muscle-bound next to the more emotional lyrical passages. Hsu was a graceful and attractive presence on stage, obviously well prepared, thoroughly focused on the music. Her one weakness was a tone that failed to match Barber's heavy-handed orchestration, so that the piano wasn't really the leading character in the piece.
Robert Schumann's "Rhenish" symphony comes with wonderful ideas, though many performances have been sunk by Schumann's clumsy orchestration. Bay and the orchestra made the piece sound good, but the sudden infusion of energy and color in the last 30 seconds of the symphony made me wish that we'd had a lot more of that in what came before.
David Mead
MUSIC
ANI DIFRANCO HAS SOMETHING TO SAY FOR THE EVERYGAL
She tapped me on the shoulder as I was taking notes, an inebriated look in her eye, or maybe she was just squinting. She could have been 18 or 30, but it's hard to tell anything that goes on at the Austin Music Hall, even when it's not quite full, as it was Saturday night for the Ani DiFranco show. Sweat from dancing was starting to form on her beautifully brocaded peasant blouse. Her pals, all gals, were swaying and hugging each other, quietly and not-so-quietly singing along.
"You can put this in your notes," she said. She pointed at the stage, where DiFranco and a player of the upright bass named Todd Sickagoose were tearing though the singer's spiky, folky songs, duo-style. "She is the most amazing woman," she said, "She delivers a concert like she's your best friend." Out of the mouths of (righteous) babes.
Since 1990, around the time of her first CD, it's been clear to anyone who's heard her music that DiFranco's greatest talent carries an uncanny ability to embody female troubles for everygal: straight, gay, butch, femme, booted, sandaled, fierce, shy, crunchy, pleated, whatever. Most of the young womyn I know have at least gone through an Ani phase, or slept with someone who has. Some let that phase last indefinitely.
Again, the show was full but not sold out, for which we can either blame Mardi Gras or the fact that DiFranco's new album has been out for less than a month. Or maybe it was because this show featured the songs at their most naked: flickering acoustic guitar, all jumpy rhythms and sturdy strum rather than detailed melody, upright bass, and that's it. (Fortunately, this is also the maximum number of instruments that can be heard at Austin Music Hall without the venue turning the sound to mud.)
"Despite the political insanity," DiFranco said, "we're just going to be happy." Which meant songs of bravery ("Swan Dive") nestled up to tunes about living though love that doesn't last ("Man Hole") and egomania that seems indestructible ("Napoleon"). Of course her fans loved it; everyone needs a best friend who knows exactly what you're thinking.
Joe Gross
MUSIC
LET'S ALL SCREAM 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GAVIN'
Gavin DeGraw turned 28 onstage at the Paramount Theatre last Friday with his parents beaming proudly from an opera box, a presentation by Gov. Rick Perry in his honor and a bevy of birthday tchotchkes from concert sponsors. But possibly the best present the hunky DeGraw received was the tumultuous response from the many hundreds of young girls in the sold-out audience; the kind of keening, raucous teenage ululation that sets off radar telescopes in Australia.
One observer, who had seen DeGraw perform four previous times at the Paramount (his show was the cumulative event of the annual two-day Gibson Grand Slam Jam, which benefits the Hope Foundation, a cancer research organization) pronounced himself amazed by the unprecedented level of adulation DeGraw's fans displayed. A bulletproof career launch (by perennial starmaker and label mogul Clive Davis) and a big hit (in this case, "I Don't Want To Be," which also serves as the theme to The WB's series "One Tree Hill") can jump-start that kind of transcendent popularity.
Younger listeners the vast majority of the Paramount audience tend to put DeGraw on a plateau with pop-tinged performers on the order of Jason Mraz and John Mayer; older observers (of whom this writer definitely counts as one) hear comparisons to Billy Joel. Both perspectives were on display at the Paramount. DeGraw can rock himself into a lather, playing loud enough (as on the raucous, too-long "Overrated") to almost knock the painting of the Muse off the theater ceiling. But many of his piano-driven original songs harken back through the Billy Joel template to the keyboard-driven Goffin/King glory days of Brill Building New York pop.
DeGraw performed all the songs off his 2003 debut album, "Chariot," and essayed a few new tunes to boot, as well as paying homage to his soul music idols with medleys of "Tracks of My Tears" and "People Get Ready," and a rapturously-received blending of Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing" and "Let's Get It On" (DeGraw doesn't have a tablespoon of Gaye's sexual gravitas, but don't tell his young female fans that).
John T. Davis
THEATRE
PALACE SETS DELIGHTFUL SCENE FOR 'MATTRESS'
GEORGETOWN The Palace Theatre is the vibrant pulse at the heart of this town's well-preserved square. Having recently undergone a $1.5 million face-lift, the 80-year-old Palace retains the distinctive stucco faηade that has helped make it a Williamson County landmark.
The Palace is the most important kind of theater one that simultaneously enriches and edifies the community it serves. And if you make the trip to see Mary Rodgers and Marshall Barer's musical, "Once Upon a Mattress," you might find yourself similarly engaged.
An unorthodox retelling of Hans Christian Andersen's "The Princess and the Pea," "Mattress" is a fantastic musical comedy. With a princess who prefers to be called Fred and an oversexed, albeit mute King, it's loaded with laughs and a pan-generational appeal. "Mattress" premiered on Broadway in 1959 starring Carol Burnett as Princess Winifred; the show was given a revival in 1996 with Sarah Jessica Parker.
Under stringent circumstances, the Palace's cast of community players did an admirable job pulling "Mattress" together. Two days before opening, Lynn Parra, who played Queen Aggravain, was sidelined by a case of pneumonia. Director Mary Ellen Butler stepped in at the last minute, seamlessly bonding to the established ensemble. Given the little prep time she had, Butler still managed to carve out a multidimensional character.
Other highlights included Alyssa Lloyd (Winifred), who gave her fellow actors plenty to work off, all the while playing shamelessly to the audience. She captured the night's biggest laughs, and, in the end, a well-deserved ovation. And Jay Dowden's King Sextimus the Silent, however speechless, spoke to the crowd. Dowden nailed the subtle art of reacting, and as a result, delivered the show's most layered performance.
With up to 30 people on stage at once, the show did feel crowded. But the ensemble's unadulterated enthusiasm made any of the production's shortcomings easily forgivable.
("Once Upon a Mattress" continues 7:30 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays through March 6. The Georgetown Palace Theatre, 810 S. Austin Ave., Georgetown, $7-$18, 869-SHOW, www.thegeorgetownpalace.org.)
Tommy O'Malley
MUSIC
COLVIN DRAGS DOWN MUSIC WITH CHATTER
There are some earnest singer-songwriters with acoustic guitars who inspire the urge to glare witheringly at whoever has the nerve to test that "you could hear a pin drop" theory.
Then there are those who make you wish someone would drop a big box of pins, just to shake things up.
Shawn Colvin's performance Friday at One World Theatre was a study in those see-sawing extremes. In a 13-show set, Colvin did songs that earned "wow, that was beautiful" reactions ("Shotgun Down the Avalanche," "Wichita Skyline"). But she did more that drew yawns, glances at watches and whispers of restlessness ("Polaroids," "Steady On," etc.).
She started out passionately enough with a nice cover of Donovan's "Catch the Wind" and her own "Trouble," but her between-song chatter quickly made it evident that she was filling space, or killing time, way past the point at which her six strings were retuned for the next offering. And with the advantage of pushing a greatest-hits album instead of trying to introduce unfamiliar material, she shouldn't have had to stretch or prime the audience much for each song. Some of her stories were hilarious and charming, if too drawn out. Others were just . . . too drawn out. But the kicker was bringing her 6-year-old daughter and the kid's best friend, aka "the Tie-dye Sisters," out onstage for kindergarten recital-style antics. It was precious once (after "Whole New You," a song written about the joys of experiencing love and motherhood); over-indulgent the second time.
Colvin's Grammy-winning material is too strong to be treated so blithely. Her audiences clearly care a great deal about her work, or they wouldn't be paying hefty ticket prices and standing in line for signed autographs. She needs to start caring again as much as they do, or eventually, she'll be left with an empty nest.
Lynne Margolis
