Weekend Reviews

Roberts evokes the many faces of 'Hamlet'

Drama: "Hamlet"
Jazz: The Thing with Joe McPhee
Symphonic music: Austin Symphony Orchestra
Jazz: Sun Ra Arkestra
Avant-garde rock: Deerhoof, Jana Hunter, the Weird Weeds

Web posted: Nov. 21, 2005

Drama

As played by — and directed by — the artistic director of Austin Shakespeare Festival, the most notorious character in dramatic literature appears first as a priggishly mewling boy, then a ferociously vindictive warrior, then a calculatingly loopy clown. Often, Roberts' blond and variable Hamlet compresses all three into one soliloquy, sometimes into one line.

Rightheadedly, Roberts places himself center stage, physically and metaphorically, through three hours of Shakespearean tragedy about the Danish prince who must revenge the death of his father. It's a blank stage, standing for constantly shifting exterior and interior worlds, while Saxon Pincet's costumes span two millennia of historical styles, matching a small universe of dramatic action consolidated onto one none-too-spacious stage.

An actor with a nimble technical style and a thorough knowledge of Shakespearean tradition, Roberts also squeezes as many Hamlets as he possibly can into this performance. In contrast, Sarah Johnson plays just one subdued, graceful, suspended note as Ophelia, Shakespeare's "green girl," driven mad by Hamlet's play-mad actions. Matthew Radford allows Claudius, the murderous, incestuous uncle, an unusual dignity and glints of conspiratorial fire. With his earthy directness, Dirk van Allen fares better as the Gravedigger than as the prolix Polonius, yet the actor who invests the most effective intensity in multiple supporting roles is Michael Costello as the (uncommonly moving) Ghost of Old Hamlet and the Player King.

Do all these visual and performance styles cohere? Not always, but, ultimately, yes, and more importantly, they follow a peculiar logic, word to word, sentence to sentence, scene to scene. It surprises no one who has observed Roberts over the past few years that his Hamlet is outrageously ambitious, thoroughly researched and, at times, electrifyingly fulfilled. Playing a compact theater — Austin Playhouse at Penn Field — and sharing a porous wall with another lively show next door, Austin Shakespeare Festival proves once again that the company is the smallest big player in Austin's arts scene.

"Hamlet" continues 7:30 Thursday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday. Austin Playhouse, Penn Field, 3601 S. Congress Ave. $12-$25. 454-BARD, www.austinshakespeare.org.
— Michael Barnes

Jazz

A GOOD THING AND MORE AT THE VICTORY GRILL

God bless the Victory Grill, from the carpet on the walls to the ancient booths that line them. The place can't help but be cool, and there are few sights in Austin more thrilling than a packed house at the storied venue.

Which is exactly what the community got last week: two blistering sets from Scandinavian jazz trio the Thing and American multi-instrumentalist Joe McPhee, and a standing-room only crowd to go with it.

There were plenty of folks who looked as if they were stepping though the doors for the first time, and to see their eyes light up at the place was inspiring.

This show also marked the return of Epistrophy Arts, which is the business name of jazz promoter P. G. Moreno, who for years has been tireless in bringing the best in creative improvisation to Austin. The Thing, with its garage-rock energy and free-jazz chops, is his favorite band, and it seemed like a privilege to show them at what was once Austin's premier jazz venue. The mood was all kinds of celebratory.

The trio — saxophonist Mats Gustafsson, bassist Ingebrigt Haker Flaten, and drummer Paal Nilssen-Love — took the stage in their performance uniform of Ruby's BBQ T-shirts (which have been around the world, by the way) with McPhee.

Opening with a muscular improvisation, McPhee switched between various saxophones and pocket trumpet. Material ranged from the James Blood Ulmer classic "Baby Talk" with McPhee and Gustafsson trading off leads, to The Yeah Yeah Yeahs' "Art Star" with its gnarly post-punk rhythm pounded and stretched. McPhee's sound was bluesier and more lyrical than Gustafsson's uncorked blasts. Nilssen-Love's frantic drumming acquired a Latin tinge in spots with some hard-swinging riffs on timbales and simulating guitar feedback with his cymbals. Let's hope those sounds, and many more like them, become a regular feature of the once and future Victory Grill.
— Joe Gross

Symphonic music

BRONZE MEDALIST SHINES WITH SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA

Attending Saturday's performance by the Austin Symphony Orchestra, I witnessed no excitement. No missing conductor, for instance, as XL editor Michael Barnes experienced on Friday. (Click here for more on that story.) The concert I heard was simply great music with some good music making.

Approximately a quarter of the audience seemed to be piano junkies who were present to hear 1989 Cliburn Competition bronze medalist Benedetto Lupo playing Robert Schumann's Piano Concerto in A Minor. At least it appeared that way to judge from the number of people who didn't return after the intermission.

Lupo was a shrewd player who knew the music well enough to know where it allows the piano to be heard. This is to say that he played softer where the orchestra's sound naturally dominates. When Lupo chose to open up, he commanded a tone that was both brilliant and rich; he also got beautiful results bringing out melodies in the piano part's inner voices. My one reservation was that in the third movement — with lots of little notes — the musical flow wanted more clarity and definition.

The program opened with Grieg's sets of Norwegian Dances, four charming pieces generally in a simple melody-and-accompaniment texture. Not profound music, it received a tidy reading and made an excellent opener.

Brahms' Third Symphony, an unusually subtle masterpiece, is challenging to play and to listen to. Conductor Peter Bay and the orchestra achieved finely focused music making about half of the time through the first three movements; otherwise things were rather fuzzy. The fourth movement earned a far more consistent performance, featuring a vivid realization of the turbulent mood that mysteriously melts away at the conclusion.
— David Mead

Jazz

SUN RA GIVES US REASON TO CHEER

Some things are worth waiting for. Reeeeaalllly waiting for. The Sun Ra Arkestra is one of them. Ruta Maya World Headquarters swore that the 14-piece avant-garde big band was going on at around 11:30 p.m., no later than midnight surely. This seemed plausible, especially considering that the group is under the direction of 81-year-old sax player Marshall Allen, who has been an Arkestra fixture since 1958.

The Arkestra was the headliner at the inaugural Nu (as in "Nubian") Roots Music Festival, designed, as Austin musician and former Arkestra member Rashah Carson's events often are, to bring communities together. "If you respect the culture and take home the record, then respect the people," he said, encapsulating about 300 years of cultural consumption in a few words.

Acts included smooth soul, funk and hip-hop from D-Madness and MC Bavu Blakes. Deborah Duncan sang spirituals while Eartha Colson performed poetry. Between various slam poets, elder ashiko drummer Taiwo Duvall, a newly minted Austinite here from the Washington/Baltimore area, performed an evocation.

What makes the Arkestra so singular, besides the famously colorful, sequined hats, vests and cloaks the group performs in, is their ability to move from hard swing, the kind Ra used to arrange for Fletcher Henderson, to the most outside, avant-garde flights of sound. Allen conducted the Arkestra with his entire body and voice, gesticulating, shouting commands, and getting down with the on-stage dancer. At times, nearly half of the band played percussion, including Carson, and the tunes moved from an almost Ellingtonian feel to polyrhythmic explorations of a singular caliber. There's never been anyone like them; there will never be anyone like them again.
— Joe Gross

Avant-garde rock

DEERHOOF LIGHTS A FIRE ON A COLD NIGHT

Saturday night was tongue-bitingly cold, so the hipsters gathered at Emo's outside stage huddled for heat. The bill was full and eclectic — San Francisco noise-rockers Deerhoof and Austin up-and-comers Jana Hunter and the Weird Weeds. The locals did little to warm the audience, but Deerhoof's fireworks sent us home rosy-cheeked.

Hunter opened to a crowd swelled by her recent positive press. She seemed skittish on the big stage, and the mixing — high guitars and low vocals — nullified her lyrical nuance and distorted the fragile gloom of her songs. The audience, rapt at first, eventually lost interest.

The Weird Weeds — drummer/vocalist Nick Hennies and guitarists Sandy Ewen and Aaron Russell — were next. With sculpted feedback produced by rubbing chalk and metal rods on her guitar strings, Ewen laid a shimmering backdrop for Hennies' stuttering rhythms and yearning vocals, and Russell's John Fahey-inflected finger-picking added welcome old-fashioned flavor. An unsteady mix of indie, folk and avant-garde music, the Weird Weeds proved a pleasant surprise.

From the noise miniatures of 1997's "The Man, the King, and the Girl," Deerhoof has progressed to the rough, robust rock of this year's "The Runners Four." Dressed in soccer jerseys, the band mirrored multiple facets onstage, shifting from spastic three-guitar squalls to indie anthems in mere seconds. Anchored by the hyperkinetic drumming of Greg Saunier and Satomi Matsuzaki's confident, chipper chirps, Deerhoof put on a relentless set that satisfied old and new fans alike, and delivered fire to an otherwise chilly enterprise.
— Bryan Berge