Weekend Reviews
Symphony surprises with 'Angels' and Beethoven big and little
Music: "Austin Symphony Orchestra — "New Angels"
Art Exhibit: "Open Doors Downtown"
Dance: "Killsport"
Art Exhibit: "Light to Dark: Places in Watercolor"
Opera: "Genghis Khan"
Cabaret: Donna McKechni
Web posted: March 21, 2005
The "modern" composition on Friday's concert by the Austin Symphony Orchestra — "New Angels" by Marek Harris, with guest violinist David Brickman — must have been as happy a surprise for many in the capacity crowd in Bass Concert Hall as it was for me. Composed in 2002, Harris' artistic response to Sept. 11, 2001, is original and uncompromising, beautiful and communicative. The musicians and music director Peter Bay were equal artistic partners with Brickman without overwhelming him. Brickman was an effective advocate for the work, with a strong, yet beautiful, tone that launched the keening solo part to the back of the second balcony. As a totality, "New Angels" is an enriching journey from despair to hope and peace that deserves many more performances.
Harris was bracketed by small Beethoven and big Beethoven. The small was the Romance No. 2 in F that received a lovely reading by Brickman and Bay, but lacked the commitment that Brickman mustered for the Harris.
The big was the monumental Ninth Symphony, invariably a challenge that on Friday was thoroughly great in one respect. Soprano Brenda Harris, magnificent as Chrysothemis in the Austin Lyric Opera's "Elektra" in January, brought to this symphony's famously cruel part the same consistently beautiful voice plus miraculous ease and agility in the many high passages. The other soloists — Virginia Dupuy, Joseph Evans and David Evitts — made convincing work of their parts, too.
The combined forces of Chorus Austin, the San Gabriel Chorale and the Temple CAC Chorale produced hearty if not always refined sounds. The Austin Symphony was in excellent form, keeping pace with Bay's generally fast tempos. The problem wasn't so much the pace as Bay's refusal to relax and give shape to the lengthy paragraphs of this piece. The Adagio, played as fast as I've ever heard, was robbed of its serenity, an essential quality amid the surrounding struggle. But overall, the performance was a commanding realization of Bay's musical concept.
— David Mead
Art
OPEN DOORS TO A SMART EXHIBIT
Geez — this town is lousy with enterprising young artists who have wherewithal to just make their own exhibits happen. No, I'm not talking about artists who throw those ragtag weekend backyard beer bashes — and oh, yeah, it happens to be an "open studio," too. I mean artists such as Hunter Cross and Cole Thompson and their Open Doors group, who have staged an impressive exhibit of large-scale work by up-and-coming artists in the empty retail space of the AMLI Downtown building.
Rather than complain that there's no place for their art and that no one — or no governmental agency, which is what they usually mean — is handing out checks, these young artist find temporary exhibit locations, put together business proposals, craft Web sites, send out polished postcards and press releases and most importantly, raise the money themselves. In the case of "Open Doors Downtown," Cross and company raised $2,000. Not bad.
Granted, Open Doors isn't the first to use the AMLI for a temporary exhibit. Last year, a quartet of enterprising young artists did the same. And next month, the University of Texas' Creative Research Laboratory will move part of its master of fine arts show in. But right now, the six new works on view prove that Austin is morphing into a place for large installation art.
Thompson's trio of large weather balloons swell and deflate, each in carefully timed sequence. Part corporeal, part mechanical, the fleshy orbs are lit from within and make for a slow-moving ballet that is both charming and a little creepy. Sandra Martinez's 24 tire sections, which are each bound with white yarn, are comely meshes of domestic and industrial material. Cesar Alexander Villareal's "Nest," crafted of branches and leaves and lined with white feathers, beckons comfortingly for the viewer to enter it. And while a soundtrack plays a conversation between Villareal and his mother, the presence of a surveillance camera reminds viewers that no nest these days is private and safe. Hanging from the ceiling, Cross' "Diaspora" is made of layers of clear acetate each of which is adorned with clear, red dots. The dots form undulating shapes, not too unlike a hologram. Only this "hologram" is handmade — albeit in clean and well-presented way. Just like this smart exhibit.
("Open Doors: Downtown" continues noon to 8 p.m. Saturday at the AMLI Downtown, Lavaca and West Third streets, free, 970-9763, www.complicateeverything.com/opendoors.)
— Jeanne Claire van Ryzin
Dance
BUNNY HOP FROM FROLICKING TO FREAKY
Charming fuzzy hats with ears, cute stuffed animals, menacing music, fake blood. Choreographer Ellen Bartel takes on contemporary world politics in her latest work, "Killsport." Her inspiration? The 1975 B-movie thriller "Deathrace 2000" and the innocent happy world of cartoon animals. For the most part, that juxtaposition works to show how easily we can all turn on one another.
A sweet land of frolicsome creatures starts to move off-kilter when their play turns more competitive and the creatures — Bartel and five other dancers — turn against one other. This animal kingdom spirals quickly into bloody violence, after which the inhabitants are stunned that they could turn on each other so quickly.
Bartel is one of the sharper dancemakers in town. And she's capable of creating striking visual images and theatrically packed movement, both of which she does in the 50-minute "Killsport." But one wished for more tightness all around, so that its cautionary tale could ring all the louder.
("Killsport" continues at 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays through April 3 at the Blue Theater, 916 Springdale Road, $10-$18 (Thursday night pay-what-you-wish), 927-1118, www.spankdance.com.)
— Jeanne Claire van Ryzin
Art
FROM DRAB TO DREAMY IN WATERCOLOR
Austin has never looked so good as in Christopher St. Leger's new exhibition titled "Light to Dark: Places in Watercolor." Of the nearly 60 works on view at Davis Gallery, St. Leger's Austin scenes are most noteworthy.
Repeatedly reminded of our town's transitional character, Austinites are accustomed to road construction, building projects and "Keep Austin Weird" stickers. Those outside Austin also identify with slowing down or speeding up their rapidly changing communities.
St. Leger captures both sides of the spectrum of urban renewal. The artist (once trained as an architect) relishes subjects ranging from the old — faded bungalows with dated cars parked at the curb — to the new — downtown skyrises with highly reflective gridlike exteriors.
The first question viewers ask of his work: Do you paint from photographs? Surprisingly the answer is no. St. Leger hastily paints outdoors, "scavenging streets for less remarkable, perhaps discarded views."
These "discarded" views take on an ethereality and loveliness resulting from the artist's mastery over his medium. Although Austin is home to some superb watercolorists, the medium has suffered an identity crisis of sorts. People generally think of it as the medium one uses for studies prior to another work, or perhaps merely a hobby. St. Leger's works suggest otherwise. Through his bold use of color and complex relationship with beauty and ugliness in architecture, he transforms sites like drab and empty Austin parking lots into weighty and atmospheric vistas, fleeting or not.
("Light to Dark: Places in Watercolor" continues 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Mondays-Fridays, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturdays through April 16, Davis Gallery, 837 W. 12th St., 477-4929.)
— Erin Keever
Opera
HAIL THE CONQUERING OPERA OF 'GENGHIS KHAN'
"Intimate, yet epic," says Salvage Vanguard Theatre artistic director Jason Neulander about the company's newest production. He's right. "Genghis Khan," a mesmerizing alternative opera by composer Graham Reynolds with libretto by Neulander, is both.
On the epic side, the title character was a leader who ruthlessly forged a vast empire, united the Mongol people with his war machine and created a code of law. In keeping with the leader's legendary status, Reynolds's instrumental music, which he performs with four other musicians, is forceful and full. Though it delivers a larger-than life quality, it never overpowers the space or the singers. It's no wonder that this composer is fast becoming one of Austin's treasures.
On the intimate side: This is really a story about a boy and his mom. The opera has just three characters: Genghis Khan, his mother Hoelun and a Taoist monk. It takes place on a raised, raked and almost circular small stage with two large rocks. Movement is minimal and deliberately static. The actors almost look like animated ancestor paintings in Laura Cannon's striking costumes. The brocades add color and richness while making the actors appear almost sculptural against the sandy floor of Chase Staggs's scenic design.
The three performers all sounded wonderful. Taking on Genghis, Keith Gipson looked fierce and employed a powerful, determined voice. As Hoelun, Minkyung Lee added a haunted, angst-ridden presence. Tenor Edward Philip Kuntchef brought a softness and gentleness to Chang Chun that contrasted with the harder edges of the conqueror and his mother.
Although librettos were available for rental during the performance, they aren't necessary. As with many operatic pieces, the language repeats and telegraphs so that understanding every word isn't the point. Rather, it is the total experience of words, music and spectacle that transports us to the steppes of Mongolia where Genghis Khan — mortal and immortal — forever rides.
("Genghis Khan"continues 8 p.m. Thursdays-Sundays through April 3, The Off Center, 2111-A Hidalgo St., $12-$35, 474-7886, www.salvagevanguard.org.)
— Jamie Smith Cantara
Cabaret
DONNA MCKECHNIE STEPS OUT OF THE CHORUS LINE
My friends say I suffer from a diva fetish. While some of them would argue that this fogs my objectivity, I think it makes me a sommelier of sorts — my taste for grande dames is simply more refined than theirs. So I can safely say that Donna McKechnie, who brought her latest cabaret show, "Gypsy in my Soul," to Austin last week, is still a brilliant — and unfortunately underutilized — diamond in the exclusive jewel-box of America's theatrical leading ladies.
In her Tony-winning turn as Cassie in the original Broadway cast of "A Chorus Line," McKechnie famously sang, "Throw me a rope to grab on to, help me to prove that I'm strong." Now somewhere beyond the mid-century mark, the dancer/actress/singer needs no help to prove her undying strength of performance.
Through 90 short minutes for Austin Cabaret Theatre at St. Edward's University, McKechnie barreled through a set of show tune standards from the past century. Having played — and originated, for that matter — some of musical theater's greatest female roles, McKechnie has cultivated a seriously solid songbook. Kicking off with the title tune, the program also included contributions from a few of the masters with whom McKechnie has collaborated.
McKechnie used the songs to illustrate different points in her biographical narration. The spry "A Lot of Livin' to Do" from "Bye, Bye Birdie" accompanied the story of her arrival in Manhattan as a hopeful young performer. Later, after explaining that arthritis and divorce are the two worst things that have happened to her, McKechnie poignantly reflected on the latter with Burt Bacharach and Hal David's "A House is Not a Home."
McKechnie was at her best when she drew material from past roles. Her solo "Turkey Lurkey Time" (from Bacharach and David's "Promises, Promises") made the audience forget it was written for a trio. She even reproduced a snippet of the song's lithe choreography. And when she sang, "I Love Paris" from Cole Porter's "Can-Can" (she starred in a '90s West End production), McKechnie revealed the vulnerability buried beneath her seasoned exterior.
But the night couldn't have been complete without "The Music and the Mirror," the song that won McKechnie a Tony 30 years ago, and which was quite literally written for her. She attacked it with an intensity I have rarely witnessed, leaving only a trail of damp eyes and upright hairs in her glorious wake. What a diva.
— Tommy O'Malley
