There are very few Directors who I will let fuck with my head and still have me coming back for more. Joshua Gelb has the distinct honor of being placed on this short list. Josh is a fellow grad student here at CMU in the MFA Directing program and so I have had the great honor and getting to know him (though just barely) the past two years. I have literally just walked out of a performance of Lulu, a play by Frank Wedekind that Josh directed, and felt compelled to share its excellence.
Walking away from a Gelbian production, you can't help but be startled by the intense visual imagery that has ingrained itself into your head. My first introduction to Josh's work was a one-act he directed our first year in which a table was turned on it's end and the actors stacked themselves around the table giving the illusion of a "bird's-eye-view" of the scene. Now, I prefer wit to farce. Humor that has earned its laugh through intelligence is deserved humor. Similarly, I prefer carefully arrived upon images to stage pictures. In other words, there is something perfect for me when seemingly unconnected visuals on stage converge into meaning in a single moment of ecstasy. I find this the visual equivalent of wit. In Lulu, these table turning moments are numerous, and I resist sharing the specifics until after the show has closed. Even then they are something that I think can only be experienced. Needless to say they involve a lot of blood and mattresses.
I say this not only to boost Josh's ego, but to share a passion for a style of theatre that those of you who know me may not expect. Yes, while I may enjoy working on extremely energetic musicals with characters from my favorite video games, I equally enjoy what I will call the darker side of theater in that it forces you to offer opinions and share experiences with your fellow audience members whether you want to or not. This summer, Josh directed a workshop of a new piece in development titled Sometimes in Prague, which through song and the interaction of live actors with projected versions of themselves, shared with us the stories of a group of friends traveling in Prague looking for the true meaning and intent of "love".
The most poignant moment of the experience (for me), was when a single actor crossed downstage center with a mic and asked the audience to close their eyes. In this darkness we were asked to physically share our sins, our triumphs, and our love by raising your hand in response to direct questions. Although your eyes were shut, the audience became so emotionally connected that you could literally feel the energy in the room after a question like "How many of you have knowingly deceived a lover?" was asked. While there were initially some giggles to the line of questioning, they quickly became almost depressingly compelling in their insistence that you examine your own existence.
Coming towards the end of the show, these questions caused disturbing amounts of reflection to take place amongst the audience and I am still shaken by the experience. Lulu ends much more literally in darkness, and there was a brilliant pause at the end of the show where the audience was left sitting in complete darkness, unaware if the play is over or not. Generally, as soon as a blackout occurs we are all familiar with the audience bounding to their feet in applause, often disallowing themselves the opportunity for reflection on what they have just witnessed. The unease amongst the audience was palpable, just as it was in Sometimes in Prague. Although this pause was probably only about 5 seconds, in theatre time that is an eternity.
I can't say enough about the brilliance in the direction and production design for this show and it humbles me to call these artistic team members my friends and colleagues. Congratulations, and damn you, for making me think.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Riddle Me Opera
Admittedly, I have not been much of an opera fan in my 1/4 century as a theatre patron. Last year, I had the pleasure of working with Pittsburgh Opera on Le Nozze di Figaro in the \spring at the Benedum Center and I got bit by the "opera bug". Tonight I went to see Pittsburgh Opera's production of Turandot. Unlike most opera productions that use a stock set and costumes from a played out production, Pittsburgh Opera joined with 4 other major US companies to co-produce this new version of the show. Pittsburgh had the elite opportunity to premiere the production design and one was left to wonder how the hell they made it fit into the Benedum. The set, designed by Andrew Barbe, was epic and impressive. Some insiders on the production have indicated a lot of work had to be done to it as the pieces were assembled for the first time, but their labors were warranted. The costumes, also designed by Barbe, were equally colorful and impressive.
Sadly, Frank Porretta who played Prince Calaf, was hit hard with allergies an hour before the performance this evening. He valiantly made it through the whole show, although there were clear moments where he was in pain and unable to sustain his notes. The highlight of the evening was NaGuanda Nobles, who played Liu and delivered some gut-wrenching arias and impressive acting (as far as opera goes). She deservedly garnered a full standing ovation during bows.
Unlike my previous performance-related posts, I do not want to say too much about this production because I genuinely think it is one you need to experience for yourself. Pittsburgh Opera offers $10 tickets for students in the first balcony, and I fully encourage anybody in the area who has the opportunity to check it out.
For those of you unable to attend, answer the following three questions or you will be beheaded:
1) What is born each night and dies each dawn?
2) What flickers red and warm like a flame, but is not fire?
3) What is like ice, but burns like fire?
Sadly, Frank Porretta who played Prince Calaf, was hit hard with allergies an hour before the performance this evening. He valiantly made it through the whole show, although there were clear moments where he was in pain and unable to sustain his notes. The highlight of the evening was NaGuanda Nobles, who played Liu and delivered some gut-wrenching arias and impressive acting (as far as opera goes). She deservedly garnered a full standing ovation during bows.
Unlike my previous performance-related posts, I do not want to say too much about this production because I genuinely think it is one you need to experience for yourself. Pittsburgh Opera offers $10 tickets for students in the first balcony, and I fully encourage anybody in the area who has the opportunity to check it out.
For those of you unable to attend, answer the following three questions or you will be beheaded:
1) What is born each night and dies each dawn?
2) What flickers red and warm like a flame, but is not fire?
3) What is like ice, but burns like fire?
Sunday, March 27, 2011
The Gospel According to Brian
I think most theatre practitioners would agree that the energy an audience gives the performers on stage can make or break a production. For those of us fortunate to be with a show from day one of rehearsal through weeks, months, or years of performances, it is amazing to see how the mood of the audience will instantly shape the perceived success of a show on an individual evening. We've all seen the comedy on a Saturday afternoon where the audience is too hungover from the night before to give credit to the events on stage, or the after-dinner Friday night crowd who struggles to stay awake while the steak and bottle of red wine digest in their stomach. Generally, the actors on stage can recognize this and do their best to keep the energy of the show high, even if the patrons fight them the entire way. At a certain point, however, there is a decidedly unhappy moment when the company loses faith in an audience and just tries to get through the show so they can go home. I bring this "Intro to Theatre Performance" topic up to reflect on an experience I had this afternoon while seeing The Gospel at Colonus produced by the Opera Theatre of Pittsburgh at the August Wilson Center for African American Culture.
Briefly, The Gospel at Colonus is a performance piece that explores the connections between Greek and modern cultures while outlining the basic story of Oedipus after he has blinded himself through his death (using significant chunks of Sophocles' original work). Its creators believed that gospel performance was the closest thing we have in contemporary society to a Greek chorus and this theatrical vehicle could be used to create the intended catharsis, or emotional release, at the end of the tragedy. Hence, the production is performed fully by a large gospel choir with soloists who portray individual characters as necessary. There is a fascinating duality that the actors encounter as they step in and out of roles, often smartly blurring the boundary between the story and the performance. Not surprisingly, the play has had it's share of critics concerned with the cultural appropriation of gospel music and larger African American culture in order to achieve a desired effect. There are also numerous inherent moments where the principles of Christianity and pagan practices are queered. Although these heavy dramaturgical topics are met with much enthusiasm and interest to me, I wrote many a paper on this play in undergrad, so wish to use my time with you, the reader, to talk about shared experience in performance.
I went with my friend Devorah to the closing matinee performance this afternoon and it was the first time either of us had been in the gorgeous new August Wilson Center. I have had the immense honor of working with Kenny Leon and the "Wilsonian Soldiers" in an epic rep at the Kennedy Center where we produced all 10 plays of the August Wilson cycle in the August Wilson 20th Century rep. My life was forever touched by that company of actors, artistic staff, production team, and August's family that being in a theatre dedicated to him already made me feel reverential. Devorah has also worked with some of the Soldiers, which has been a shared experience we both cherish. I had seen a small production of The Gospel at Colonus once before, but what makes it such a powerful performance opportunity for me is the size of the cast it desperately needs. When we opened our programs and saw there was a cast of over 150 my jaw dropped. This was it. The Gospel I had hoped for.
The set was brilliant, with suspended column capitals that had streamers flowing down to bases on the floor, creating stunning abstract columns. Each column had a different mask on top, which one later finds out corresponds to a different principle cast member. They smartly used lighting to emphasize columns based on what characters were present in the scene and their motivations. The only other real scenic element, besides a system of platforming, were these annoying green vertical light tubes that got moved around during scenes that I never understood the purpose of. The rest of the stage was populated by risers for the choir and musicians. For you audiophiles, the sound design was excellent and they did an impressive job of mixing such a large group of people with live music on stage. I must also give a nod to the masks, which were a smart fusion of traditional African and Greek styles.
As the show was about to begin, the large chorus began to file in seemingly randomly, greeting each other as they entered. Whether this was an artistic choice or not, it felt very much like the beginning of a church service where community members slowly gathered and caught up on the recent news from each other, all the while awaiting the entrance of the preacher. The chorus also filled two rows of seats set up on the orchestra pit that was lowered to house level, so the front rows of the audience were filled with performers. The added charm of this show is the use of local performers. While there is generally a strong core of principles, local gospel choirs are almost always recruited to be a part of the ensemble. In this case, we were treated by the Mt. Ararat Majestic Choir and the CAPA Opera Chorus. Although some of the principle acting wasn't as strong as one might like, they made up for it in the music. Now I must say, seeing 150 people on stage simultaneously singing, acting, and dancing is breathtaking. Rarely in professional theatre do we get to work with numbers even above 50 due to the sheer cost and logistics of having such a large company. This experience alone was well worth the price of admission.
The only thing I can say I was actually disappointed in with this production was our audience. The music and power of the performers demands you rise to your feet and allow yourself to be taken with the 'spirit'. "Lift Him Up", the biggest production number of the show, occurs near the end and is intended to be the moment of sheer catharsis after witnessing Antigone's tragic grief over the death of her father, Oedipus. The Greeks would have us purge all our sad and negative feelings at this moment in true Linda Blair fashion. Our audience, rather, just sat there and took it. The front rows of choir members were on their feet with the house lights on and yet nobody in the house stood. This was a prime example of how our beloved theatrical conventions can also be our undoing. Audiences are trained to clap at the end of songs and also at the end of shows (standing ovations also seem to be obligatory these days), but we rarely are afforded the opportunity to physically embrace a production without an usher quickly escorting us away. One might be inclined to label this a failure of the piece; it was unable to release the intended audience from their seats, much less release their emotions. I, however, saw it as a memorable moment where 150 people were unified with a single goal of delivering the audience from its sorrow, and they did not for a moment let the lack of energy given back to them detract from their performance. Mad props.
I did not experience the profound emotional release over Oedipus' death I sought going into the theatre. I did, however, feel something uncomfortably spiritual about the choir's communal effort. Now let the weeping cease.
Briefly, The Gospel at Colonus is a performance piece that explores the connections between Greek and modern cultures while outlining the basic story of Oedipus after he has blinded himself through his death (using significant chunks of Sophocles' original work). Its creators believed that gospel performance was the closest thing we have in contemporary society to a Greek chorus and this theatrical vehicle could be used to create the intended catharsis, or emotional release, at the end of the tragedy. Hence, the production is performed fully by a large gospel choir with soloists who portray individual characters as necessary. There is a fascinating duality that the actors encounter as they step in and out of roles, often smartly blurring the boundary between the story and the performance. Not surprisingly, the play has had it's share of critics concerned with the cultural appropriation of gospel music and larger African American culture in order to achieve a desired effect. There are also numerous inherent moments where the principles of Christianity and pagan practices are queered. Although these heavy dramaturgical topics are met with much enthusiasm and interest to me, I wrote many a paper on this play in undergrad, so wish to use my time with you, the reader, to talk about shared experience in performance.
I went with my friend Devorah to the closing matinee performance this afternoon and it was the first time either of us had been in the gorgeous new August Wilson Center. I have had the immense honor of working with Kenny Leon and the "Wilsonian Soldiers" in an epic rep at the Kennedy Center where we produced all 10 plays of the August Wilson cycle in the August Wilson 20th Century rep. My life was forever touched by that company of actors, artistic staff, production team, and August's family that being in a theatre dedicated to him already made me feel reverential. Devorah has also worked with some of the Soldiers, which has been a shared experience we both cherish. I had seen a small production of The Gospel at Colonus once before, but what makes it such a powerful performance opportunity for me is the size of the cast it desperately needs. When we opened our programs and saw there was a cast of over 150 my jaw dropped. This was it. The Gospel I had hoped for.
The set was brilliant, with suspended column capitals that had streamers flowing down to bases on the floor, creating stunning abstract columns. Each column had a different mask on top, which one later finds out corresponds to a different principle cast member. They smartly used lighting to emphasize columns based on what characters were present in the scene and their motivations. The only other real scenic element, besides a system of platforming, were these annoying green vertical light tubes that got moved around during scenes that I never understood the purpose of. The rest of the stage was populated by risers for the choir and musicians. For you audiophiles, the sound design was excellent and they did an impressive job of mixing such a large group of people with live music on stage. I must also give a nod to the masks, which were a smart fusion of traditional African and Greek styles.
As the show was about to begin, the large chorus began to file in seemingly randomly, greeting each other as they entered. Whether this was an artistic choice or not, it felt very much like the beginning of a church service where community members slowly gathered and caught up on the recent news from each other, all the while awaiting the entrance of the preacher. The chorus also filled two rows of seats set up on the orchestra pit that was lowered to house level, so the front rows of the audience were filled with performers. The added charm of this show is the use of local performers. While there is generally a strong core of principles, local gospel choirs are almost always recruited to be a part of the ensemble. In this case, we were treated by the Mt. Ararat Majestic Choir and the CAPA Opera Chorus. Although some of the principle acting wasn't as strong as one might like, they made up for it in the music. Now I must say, seeing 150 people on stage simultaneously singing, acting, and dancing is breathtaking. Rarely in professional theatre do we get to work with numbers even above 50 due to the sheer cost and logistics of having such a large company. This experience alone was well worth the price of admission.
The only thing I can say I was actually disappointed in with this production was our audience. The music and power of the performers demands you rise to your feet and allow yourself to be taken with the 'spirit'. "Lift Him Up", the biggest production number of the show, occurs near the end and is intended to be the moment of sheer catharsis after witnessing Antigone's tragic grief over the death of her father, Oedipus. The Greeks would have us purge all our sad and negative feelings at this moment in true Linda Blair fashion. Our audience, rather, just sat there and took it. The front rows of choir members were on their feet with the house lights on and yet nobody in the house stood. This was a prime example of how our beloved theatrical conventions can also be our undoing. Audiences are trained to clap at the end of songs and also at the end of shows (standing ovations also seem to be obligatory these days), but we rarely are afforded the opportunity to physically embrace a production without an usher quickly escorting us away. One might be inclined to label this a failure of the piece; it was unable to release the intended audience from their seats, much less release their emotions. I, however, saw it as a memorable moment where 150 people were unified with a single goal of delivering the audience from its sorrow, and they did not for a moment let the lack of energy given back to them detract from their performance. Mad props.
I did not experience the profound emotional release over Oedipus' death I sought going into the theatre. I did, however, feel something uncomfortably spiritual about the choir's communal effort. Now let the weeping cease.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Adult Sippy Cups
This evening I had every intent of escaping reality for two hours and experiencing the sheer splendor that is Seussical the Musical. The plot is fairly simple, centering on the story of Horton and his friends on a clover, with some characters from many other stories mixed in. There is, of course, the Cat in the Hat to round out the cast who switches from narrator to filling in character bits in each story. Although most of the other characters on stage are recognizable to those of us who grew up memorizing the books before we could even read, the Cat is arguably the most iconic image from the series. Thus, his role is pivotal in any production related to these stories.
I arrived at the Byham Theatre with my friend David Beller and knew we were in for a treat based on the patrons entering with us. It was a pleasant mix of parents with their young children and grandparents in toe. There was also a surprising contingent of high-school aged students. Anybody who has ever seen a production for youth knows nothing compares to the energy and passion an audience full of children can give. Working in this environment was a major component in my decision to study Educational Theatre for my B.A. I stopped at the bar in the lobby and grabbed a glass of $7 white wine and joked with David about the $3 adult sippy cups you could buy in order to take your drink into the theatre. NOT buying one proved to be a fatal error.
When buying the tickets I fully realized this was a local production including some AEA actors and a large contingent of the community. Knowing this, my expectations were (I hate to admit it) lowered. I fully believe that many of us who work professionally forget our roots in "local" theatre and how much it can influence the lives of those involved even if they don't plan on pursuing a career in the performing arts. The scenery was simple, but smart with a variety of levels that served the show well with so many large chorus numbers. Lighting...hmmm, well...Seussical is generally what we call a 'flash and trash' show that has lots of colorful and moving light cues that clearly aren't environmental, but move in rhythm with the music and mood of the show. There was a valiant attempt at this, and I'm giving the LD the benefit of the doubt and predicting he didn't get enough cueing time to adequately finish the show, because there were a lot of questionable cues. It didn't help that Horton REFUSED to ever stand in his light, even if the only light on stage was a single toplight special. Concluding my judgment on design, the sound was horrible, I mean the worst. You couldn't understand anything any girl sang, ever. There was a lack of guys in the ensemble so they didn't have any hope. We were in the balcony, so maybe they didn't care about us, but we paid just as much for half price tickets as everybody else did.
Besides the frequent questionable cues and inability to understand anything coming out of any singers' mouth, there was one driving force that seemed determined to ruin this production, and that was the Cat himself. This man was bad, and I use the word man because everybody else on stage was under the age of 25 and he was clearly at least in his mid 40s. His overt sexual flirtations with several characters during the show drew more attention to the age gap, making David and I (as well as the patrons behind us) uncomfortable. At one point the patrons behind us, who I will henceforth call 'The Fans', yelled out "I didn't think we were watching To Catch A Predator". The Cat continued to bring down the show with horrible and inappropriate ad libs that would make even the most experienced dancer at Cheerleaders blush. The highlight was his flirting with a grandmother in front of her granddaughter during a scene that included both physical and verbal contact.
The moment that ruined the show for me, however, was an extended ad lib about Charlie Sheen that ended in a seductive "Winning!". As much as I think the whole Charlie Sheen thing is way overplayed, I must give Charlie credit for marketing such a brilliant line that will be ingrained in our pop culture at least until the next time a star has a breakdown. However, my friends, I find this sort of material horribly inappropriate for such a show. Argue away that family shows are just as much for the parents as they are for the kids, but when your main character spends a majority of the play seducing the Who's and then breaks out "Winning!", I lose all respect.
All the technical and artistic choice elements aside, I found this production blatantly offensive and tragic, which is a bold accusation for Seussical. I was willing to excuse anything...but the Cat's ad libs really made me wish I had gotten an adult sippy cup from the lobby. The only people in the balcony who enjoyed themselves after intermission were The Fans behind us, who one could have easily mistook for crazed Steeler's fans at a playoff game. I suspect there wasn't Diet Coke in their sippy cups.
I arrived at the Byham Theatre with my friend David Beller and knew we were in for a treat based on the patrons entering with us. It was a pleasant mix of parents with their young children and grandparents in toe. There was also a surprising contingent of high-school aged students. Anybody who has ever seen a production for youth knows nothing compares to the energy and passion an audience full of children can give. Working in this environment was a major component in my decision to study Educational Theatre for my B.A. I stopped at the bar in the lobby and grabbed a glass of $7 white wine and joked with David about the $3 adult sippy cups you could buy in order to take your drink into the theatre. NOT buying one proved to be a fatal error.
When buying the tickets I fully realized this was a local production including some AEA actors and a large contingent of the community. Knowing this, my expectations were (I hate to admit it) lowered. I fully believe that many of us who work professionally forget our roots in "local" theatre and how much it can influence the lives of those involved even if they don't plan on pursuing a career in the performing arts. The scenery was simple, but smart with a variety of levels that served the show well with so many large chorus numbers. Lighting...hmmm, well...Seussical is generally what we call a 'flash and trash' show that has lots of colorful and moving light cues that clearly aren't environmental, but move in rhythm with the music and mood of the show. There was a valiant attempt at this, and I'm giving the LD the benefit of the doubt and predicting he didn't get enough cueing time to adequately finish the show, because there were a lot of questionable cues. It didn't help that Horton REFUSED to ever stand in his light, even if the only light on stage was a single toplight special. Concluding my judgment on design, the sound was horrible, I mean the worst. You couldn't understand anything any girl sang, ever. There was a lack of guys in the ensemble so they didn't have any hope. We were in the balcony, so maybe they didn't care about us, but we paid just as much for half price tickets as everybody else did.
Besides the frequent questionable cues and inability to understand anything coming out of any singers' mouth, there was one driving force that seemed determined to ruin this production, and that was the Cat himself. This man was bad, and I use the word man because everybody else on stage was under the age of 25 and he was clearly at least in his mid 40s. His overt sexual flirtations with several characters during the show drew more attention to the age gap, making David and I (as well as the patrons behind us) uncomfortable. At one point the patrons behind us, who I will henceforth call 'The Fans', yelled out "I didn't think we were watching To Catch A Predator". The Cat continued to bring down the show with horrible and inappropriate ad libs that would make even the most experienced dancer at Cheerleaders blush. The highlight was his flirting with a grandmother in front of her granddaughter during a scene that included both physical and verbal contact.
The moment that ruined the show for me, however, was an extended ad lib about Charlie Sheen that ended in a seductive "Winning!". As much as I think the whole Charlie Sheen thing is way overplayed, I must give Charlie credit for marketing such a brilliant line that will be ingrained in our pop culture at least until the next time a star has a breakdown. However, my friends, I find this sort of material horribly inappropriate for such a show. Argue away that family shows are just as much for the parents as they are for the kids, but when your main character spends a majority of the play seducing the Who's and then breaks out "Winning!", I lose all respect.
All the technical and artistic choice elements aside, I found this production blatantly offensive and tragic, which is a bold accusation for Seussical. I was willing to excuse anything...but the Cat's ad libs really made me wish I had gotten an adult sippy cup from the lobby. The only people in the balcony who enjoyed themselves after intermission were The Fans behind us, who one could have easily mistook for crazed Steeler's fans at a playoff game. I suspect there wasn't Diet Coke in their sippy cups.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Summer Lovin
John MacDonald, a prominent NY Producer has specifically requested a blog post this evening, so in his honor (and the fact I slept on his couch for a month last summer) I thought I'd share my summer plans. This is an excellent opportunity for those of you requesting any social gatherings over the summer to submit your proposals and funding plans.
I'll begin in June by spending about 2 1/2 weeks in Prague as one of the Stage Managers for the US team's International Competitive Exhibit at the Prague Quadrennial of Performance, Design and Space (PQ). A close friend and colleague of mine here at school, Devorah Jaffe, is heading up the SM team and has already spent many hours during the year coordinating interviews and spending time teching the exhibit. Many CMU students and faculty/staff will be in Prague with us, so this is an amazing opportunity to see a new part of the world with some of my closest friends.
The day PQ closes, I'll get on a plane back to the US to begin rehearsal the next day for a new musical by Marshall Pailet in DC produced by The New Musical Development Foundation. This production, with a secret title, will be done in rep with Fucking Up Everything and I have the honor of PSMing the rep. I'm currently in the midst of the process of hiring a SM to help with Fucking Up Everything and the schedules are quickly coming together, which I guess makes a show with a secret title real. Both of these productions have a month long run in July-August.
This will give me about a week to settle back in Pittsburgh before getting back in gear for The Good Person of Setzuan, for which I am already Production Managing and we begin budgeting this Friday.
Plans for the rest of this week include seeing Seussical the Musical produced by Pittsburgh Musical Theatre and The Gospel at Colonus at the August Wilson Center.
I'll begin in June by spending about 2 1/2 weeks in Prague as one of the Stage Managers for the US team's International Competitive Exhibit at the Prague Quadrennial of Performance, Design and Space (PQ). A close friend and colleague of mine here at school, Devorah Jaffe, is heading up the SM team and has already spent many hours during the year coordinating interviews and spending time teching the exhibit. Many CMU students and faculty/staff will be in Prague with us, so this is an amazing opportunity to see a new part of the world with some of my closest friends.
The day PQ closes, I'll get on a plane back to the US to begin rehearsal the next day for a new musical by Marshall Pailet in DC produced by The New Musical Development Foundation. This production, with a secret title, will be done in rep with Fucking Up Everything and I have the honor of PSMing the rep. I'm currently in the midst of the process of hiring a SM to help with Fucking Up Everything and the schedules are quickly coming together, which I guess makes a show with a secret title real. Both of these productions have a month long run in July-August.
This will give me about a week to settle back in Pittsburgh before getting back in gear for The Good Person of Setzuan, for which I am already Production Managing and we begin budgeting this Friday.
Plans for the rest of this week include seeing Seussical the Musical produced by Pittsburgh Musical Theatre and The Gospel at Colonus at the August Wilson Center.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Talking Apes
I told you so. First week and I already fell off the blogging wagon. In my defense the sun came out in Pittsburgh and this only happens twice a year, so had to take advantage of it.
Last night I attended the opening of Precious Little at City Theatre. As those of you who work in theatre know, it is rare we get a night off where we can actually go see something, so this was a welcomed treat. The play interweaves three stories into a 75 minute understatement that strives to examine how we communicate with the World. Centering on Brodie, an apparently successful and talented research linguist, the play steps us through the discovery her unborn child may have medical complications, her encounters with an elderly Dr. Pepper loving woman, Cleva, who speaks a dying language, and a talking gorilla. What ties these three storylines together is Brodie's determination to find ways to communicate through language despite any opportunity (or missed opportunity) for reciprocal dialogue.
I found myself during the play struggling to decide which of Brodie's encounters was most sincere. In what I can "smart plays", or plays that concern themselves with language and semantics (The History Boys is another example), I personally yearn for a connection to something affective. I have little interest in plays that try to explore large philosophical ideas, but never offer an opinion or vehicle for transmission to intrinsic meaning.
Although Brodie's brief recording sessions with Cleva were by far the most emotionally tangible (and cute) in performance, she was never able to break through the recording studio glass and connect. The mother was simply an "informant". This scenario becomes increasingly disturbing when Brodie visits the the talking gorilla at the zoo played by the same actress as the mother. The audience quickly discovers that the gorilla can't actually talk, and although there are light-up buttons corresponding to nouns in her cage, the gorilla blatantly ignores them. Once this was clear, it became evident to me that my quest for sincerity would could from something seen, not something heard.
For me, the most visually compelling moments of the play were when Brodie would sit outside the gorilla's cage and mimic her movements. Towards the end, the roles of initiator and follower became blurred as it wasn't always clear who was mimicking who. Often, these sessions would take place in the background of other scenes, so it took some deliberate concentration to notice their subtleties. Although the pair was still separated by glass, a dialogue was created. I use dialogue here not to mean communication, since I don't believe any information was actually transmitted, but as a means of one thing influencing another. I'm sure there is a more appropriate word for this interplay. The only other time Brodie transcended verbal language was seeing the sonogram of her unborn daughter for the first time much earlier in the play. Waving to the fetus on the screen, something about the baby incited Brodie to try and open a dialogue although clearly the child could not communicate back.
Brodie spent the play looking for spoken language, the literal sounds people use to communicate, and although she was highly educated on the subject she failed to understand the simple principles of dialogue. In the final moments when all the glass walls of her world have melted away, we find Brodie alone with the gorilla in a comforting embrace. No words, no gestures, simply touch. People often say in times of crisis, agony, grief, etc. there are no words that can express how they feel but I'd hazard a guess to say many of us rarely stop to think how things that have no words can communicate with us. The more interesting things in life for me are those that aren't said...like a gorilla banging on a piece of glass. Jump!
Last night I attended the opening of Precious Little at City Theatre. As those of you who work in theatre know, it is rare we get a night off where we can actually go see something, so this was a welcomed treat. The play interweaves three stories into a 75 minute understatement that strives to examine how we communicate with the World. Centering on Brodie, an apparently successful and talented research linguist, the play steps us through the discovery her unborn child may have medical complications, her encounters with an elderly Dr. Pepper loving woman, Cleva, who speaks a dying language, and a talking gorilla. What ties these three storylines together is Brodie's determination to find ways to communicate through language despite any opportunity (or missed opportunity) for reciprocal dialogue.
I found myself during the play struggling to decide which of Brodie's encounters was most sincere. In what I can "smart plays", or plays that concern themselves with language and semantics (The History Boys is another example), I personally yearn for a connection to something affective. I have little interest in plays that try to explore large philosophical ideas, but never offer an opinion or vehicle for transmission to intrinsic meaning.
Although Brodie's brief recording sessions with Cleva were by far the most emotionally tangible (and cute) in performance, she was never able to break through the recording studio glass and connect. The mother was simply an "informant". This scenario becomes increasingly disturbing when Brodie visits the the talking gorilla at the zoo played by the same actress as the mother. The audience quickly discovers that the gorilla can't actually talk, and although there are light-up buttons corresponding to nouns in her cage, the gorilla blatantly ignores them. Once this was clear, it became evident to me that my quest for sincerity would could from something seen, not something heard.
For me, the most visually compelling moments of the play were when Brodie would sit outside the gorilla's cage and mimic her movements. Towards the end, the roles of initiator and follower became blurred as it wasn't always clear who was mimicking who. Often, these sessions would take place in the background of other scenes, so it took some deliberate concentration to notice their subtleties. Although the pair was still separated by glass, a dialogue was created. I use dialogue here not to mean communication, since I don't believe any information was actually transmitted, but as a means of one thing influencing another. I'm sure there is a more appropriate word for this interplay. The only other time Brodie transcended verbal language was seeing the sonogram of her unborn daughter for the first time much earlier in the play. Waving to the fetus on the screen, something about the baby incited Brodie to try and open a dialogue although clearly the child could not communicate back.
Brodie spent the play looking for spoken language, the literal sounds people use to communicate, and although she was highly educated on the subject she failed to understand the simple principles of dialogue. In the final moments when all the glass walls of her world have melted away, we find Brodie alone with the gorilla in a comforting embrace. No words, no gestures, simply touch. People often say in times of crisis, agony, grief, etc. there are no words that can express how they feel but I'd hazard a guess to say many of us rarely stop to think how things that have no words can communicate with us. The more interesting things in life for me are those that aren't said...like a gorilla banging on a piece of glass. Jump!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Crisis Wednesday--Rep Rehearsal Scheduling
In a Costume Management class that I just recently finished, each Wednesday we talked through actual scenarios of significant challenges or problems that occurred at some point in the production process for large Broadway, touring, or resident productions. Today is Wednesday, so I provide my readership with not so much of a crisis, as a typical scheduling scenario a rep Production Stage Manager might encounter. I did today. Dollar amounts and names have been changed for protection of the innocent, but the proportions and stakes are the same.
The Shows:
* Two musicals performing in rep, both open the same week
* Both musicals have potential Broadway Producers
* Each musical will run approximately 90 minutes
* Show A: a new musical not yet written (10 actors, tracked music)
* Show B: a revised production of a NYMF success (7 actors, live band), script draft available
The Venue:
* 35' x 43' black box theatre (where show will be performed)
Rental Rate: $2000/week, already booked for rehearsal period
* 30' x 22' classroom (currently no bookings)
1-4 Hours: $50/hour 4+ Hours: $250/day
* Can rehearse in either/both locations
* Bookings must include setup/strike time
* Rehearsals/work done outside normal operating hours (10am-10pm) have extra staffing costs at 4 hour minimums with 2 person minimums
Rehearsals/Tech:
* Rehearsals: June 24-July 13, 2011
* Performances: July 14-August 14, 2011
* Show A Opening: July 14, 2011
* Show B Opening: July 15, 2011
* Monday is Day Off
* No actor can be called before 5pm for any purpose
* Rehearsals may not be shorter than 4 hours
* Shows do not share Actors/Directors/SMs, but do share designers
* Assume full cast must be called for each rehearsal
* Both shows must have the same number of rehearsal/tech hours
* Costume fittings must occur during rehearsal hours
* Show B will need a Sitzprobe and has one Union musician
* Modified AEA Showcase rules apply for all rehearsals, including meal breaks & rest periods
* Both shows will need "adequate" tech time TBD by you
It is 8:00pm. You're alone in the SM office. The Producer must sign a contract with the venue at 10:00pm.
The Shows:
* Two musicals performing in rep, both open the same week
* Both musicals have potential Broadway Producers
* Each musical will run approximately 90 minutes
* Show A: a new musical not yet written (10 actors, tracked music)
* Show B: a revised production of a NYMF success (7 actors, live band), script draft available
The Venue:
* 35' x 43' black box theatre (where show will be performed)
Rental Rate: $2000/week, already booked for rehearsal period
* 30' x 22' classroom (currently no bookings)
1-4 Hours: $50/hour 4+ Hours: $250/day
* Can rehearse in either/both locations
* Bookings must include setup/strike time
* Rehearsals/work done outside normal operating hours (10am-10pm) have extra staffing costs at 4 hour minimums with 2 person minimums
Rehearsals/Tech:
* Rehearsals: June 24-July 13, 2011
* Performances: July 14-August 14, 2011
* Show A Opening: July 14, 2011
* Show B Opening: July 15, 2011
* Monday is Day Off
* No actor can be called before 5pm for any purpose
* Rehearsals may not be shorter than 4 hours
* Shows do not share Actors/Directors/SMs, but do share designers
* Assume full cast must be called for each rehearsal
* Both shows must have the same number of rehearsal/tech hours
* Costume fittings must occur during rehearsal hours
* Show B will need a Sitzprobe and has one Union musician
* Modified AEA Showcase rules apply for all rehearsals, including meal breaks & rest periods
* Both shows will need "adequate" tech time TBD by you
THE TASK: Create a Rehearsal Calendar that details when each show will be in rehearsal/tech each day and in what space. You must maximize the number of rehearsal hours, while minimizing or eliminating any costs to the company outside of the weekly black box rental rate. The final call of how much rehearsal and tech time each show needs is up to you, but remember Broadway producers are coming to see the performances (with your name in the Playbill).
It is 8:00pm. You're alone in the SM office. The Producer must sign a contract with the venue at 10:00pm.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Rauh Crossover and You
For today's post I thought it would be thrilling to make a 1950's safety inspired video of how to work in and utilize the new features of the Rauh Crossover. This video would star Calvin, since evidently he's an actor according to the new CMU Drama web site, and feature award winning lines such as "No no Calvin, remember what happened to Timmy when he tried to sit on the props table", followed by an overly expressed look of fear on his face as he flashed back to Timmy falling to the floor. Lassie, played by Ramses, would then run away from the scene as a prominent predestined prequel to Timmy falling down the well. Silly Timmy. For you Lassie fans, here's a flashback:
However, such a cinematographic project would take up considerable time that I don't have. Please see REHEARSAL REPORT NOTE #1. Instead, here are simply a few pictures. Understatement is in this month. For those of you not in the know, Calvin and I spent our spring break locked in the crossover sheeting the walls, repainting, installing hinged props tables, installing floor debris removal device storage racks, and turning pipe central into a corner even Mario would be proud of. Now that's one sexy crossover.
 |  |
 | |
Monday, March 14, 2011
We'll see how long this lasts...
OK, yes, I now have a blog, judge away. I hope you enjoy the not-so-subtle irony that I started a blog so that my friends, family, coworkers, and other Facebook stalkerish types (i.e. fans) can keep up with my life since I am too busy to talk with everyone.
Instead of periodic mass emails telling you about the new and exciting things going on "Backstage with Brian" (I'd call my blog this, but I'm sure a columnist at the Voice has already trademarked it), you can now educate yourself on my adventures at your own will. Alternatively, you can not read and just say you did.
First, excuse the drab looking formatting. I have put sprucing it up on my to-do list under "Unlikely".
Secondly, although there are bound to be some social goings-on that pop up on this blog, it is primarily dedicated to sharing stories from, and reflecting on, my current projects. For those of you only interested in any misguided bohemian artist social adventures, check out Tosh.0 and see if I pop up one week. I'll be the guy wearing the blue shoes.
The intent is daily posts, even if it is just an utterly fantastic quote from rehearsal or a meeting. This particular post is merely a ceremonial ribbon-cutting of sorts. Tomorrow there will be a real post, and maybe even a picture. Or two.
***CMU Student Disclosure***
Commenting is encouraged, but they will not count towards the Green Page or PMW comments. Long winded professional advice is also not eligible for AI hours nor an approved substitute for PTM Business Practices.
Instead of periodic mass emails telling you about the new and exciting things going on "Backstage with Brian" (I'd call my blog this, but I'm sure a columnist at the Voice has already trademarked it), you can now educate yourself on my adventures at your own will. Alternatively, you can not read and just say you did.
First, excuse the drab looking formatting. I have put sprucing it up on my to-do list under "Unlikely".
Secondly, although there are bound to be some social goings-on that pop up on this blog, it is primarily dedicated to sharing stories from, and reflecting on, my current projects. For those of you only interested in any misguided bohemian artist social adventures, check out Tosh.0 and see if I pop up one week. I'll be the guy wearing the blue shoes.
The intent is daily posts, even if it is just an utterly fantastic quote from rehearsal or a meeting. This particular post is merely a ceremonial ribbon-cutting of sorts. Tomorrow there will be a real post, and maybe even a picture. Or two.
***CMU Student Disclosure***
Commenting is encouraged, but they will not count towards the Green Page or PMW comments. Long winded professional advice is also not eligible for AI hours nor an approved substitute for PTM Business Practices.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)