Oh, the Humanity!!!

Man, what a wild month. This has been without a doubt one of the most formative, demanding, interesting, developmental, encouraging, discouraging, and enlightening month of my life. Where do I even begin?

There's no place like New York City when you want to do theatre. Here, you have your finger right on the pulse of the industry. I got the chance to see what will probably be the most innovate show of the decade in "The Book of Mormon", one of the best actors on the planet in Brian Bedford, and got a chance to see a couple of shows with parts I think I would be good for. But even more than that, I spent 4 weeks surrounded by passionately curious people learning under one of the greatest voice teachers on the planet. It was there, in that small studio in the middle of Chelsea, that 99% of my learning took place.

What is art? Is it something gay people do to get back at their fathers? Could be.

But seriously, what is art? That's a question that plenty of people ask, and one that I often wonder about myself. I think the simplest answer is this: humanity. The goal of all art should be to have an effect on people and get them to think. What about? Well, that's open for interpretation. Those interpretations are usually where people get frustrated.

I think in order to be a good artist, you need two things. You need to be in touch with your own humanity, and you need to be specific about what you want to tell people. If life has taught me anything, it's that there is no universal truth.

Killing is wrong. So what if by killing one person you save 10,000 people?

Stealing is wrong. But what about when you're starving?

What's worse? Really crushing someone with the truth, or lying to them?

I don't pretend to know the answers to those questions, nor do I think myself fit to advise people on what to do in those situations. All I could tell you is my honest opinion, but that's going to change every day. So it ends up being an endless loop of catch-22s. This is where being specific can be really helpful.

Being in touch with one's own humanity is a scary thing. Mostly because it leaves you vulnerable. And the problem with being vulnerable is that its the only time you get taken advantage of. We all want to be strong, composed, and wise. But no human being is ever that way all the time. Being able to admit and display weakness requires courage and strength.

I don't think I've totally learned how to do that yet. But I'm a lot closer than I've been in days past. And in the end, that's all I can hope for.

The Young Review: The Book of Mormon

Now, at last, the review you've all been waiting for! Well, maybe not....but its certainly the show you all want to see!

Let me begin this show by saying it is NOT FAMILY FRIENDLY. Remember, this is the fusion of South Park and Avenue Q. Without any doubt, there is something in this show that will at the very least make EVERY SINGLE PERSON uncomfortable at the very least. That being said, here's what I think.

This show is a work of art. All the critics are absolutely right. This show has catchy music (Though like 'Catch Me...' the songs don't always advance the plot), outstanding dance numbers, incredible lighting, brilliant costumes, and a story that will touch your heart (if there's anything left of it after all of the swearing and genital mutilation). From here on out, there will be plenty of plot spoilers so if you don't want them, skip to the end!

Two Mormon missionaries are being sent to Uganda. One, Elder Price, is the epitome of a good Mormon; rich in knowledge, fervor, and a handsome devil to boot. The other, Elder Cunningham, is a sloppy but earnest pathological liar with all of the social skills of a porcupine. Together, they arrive in War torn Uganda, which they discover is nothing like the Lion King musical. They find themselves confronted with a tribe who's only prayers are an out streched middle finger to God (Complete with song and dance!). With the odds stacked against them, the two missionaries crack. Elder Price abandons Cunningham, hoping to return to Orlando, the city of his dreams. Elder Cunningham, having never actually read the Book of Mormon, decides to start taking liberties with the text, using stories pulled from the Book (with his own creative additions) to convince a man that raping babies will not cure his AIDS and ensure the people that genital mutilation is something to be resisted. United behind common ideals and the stories of Joseph Smith and the prophet Moronai from the Star Ship Enterprise, the people take heart and find themselves hopeful for a better life. But the local General (I'll spare you his name) does not want the people uniting under a common ideal. Elder Price, just having awoken from 'The Hell Dream' (A riveting song and dance number) decides to return, just in time to have attempt to convert the General himself and spare the village his wrath (This is where "I believe" fits in, that song you all saw at the Tonys). Elder Price ends up with the Book of Mormon lodged in his rectum, while Elder Cunningham manages to baptize the entire village. Price, a broken man, returns with Cunnigham to the village for the arrival of the President of the Mormon missions. Eager to show off their new found faith, the villagers put on a play of the Mormon history, which does not fit into the Book of Mormon at all. Disgraced, the President tells the villagers and missionaries they are "As far from Latter-Day Saints as can be!". Despite this, the villagers do not lose their new hope, because the stories were not meant to be literal anyway, only metaphorical. The truth of their religion comes from the application, not the study. The play ends with a rousing number that echoes the opening song, except with the Ugandan tribes people playing the part of the door to door missionaries.

Ben Brantley had it right. This show is something like a miracle. It makes you laugh, it offends you to the core, then it gives you something to believe in again. Its music is pleasurable and varied. The tap dance was phenomenal, and from everything I've heard way better than Anything Goes. The lightening design was spectacular, lending power to the action onstage. But the most important thing of all? It was an original idea. It is not a movie musical, it is not a revival, and while it talks a great deal about a book, it is not derived from a Book's story. This is what Broadway should be. Glitz, glamour, heart, and something you've never seen before. It's magic that only the stage can give.

Oh, and did I mention I won the lottery and sat in the middle of the first row?

My Rating ****** out of *****. That's right. 6 out of 5.

The Young Review: Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo

"In the afterlife, the epistemelogical fruit of knowledge hangs so low, but soon you realize that's all there is to eat!" - The Tiger

Ah, the plays of Broadway. More often than not, short lived pieces of drama that grace the stage long enough to earn a few Tony noms and employ a few TV/Movie stars. This was a Dark Comedy, an even more difficult piece to market to the general layman. People see "Robin Williams" on the marquee and expect to go see something like Hook or Jumanji or Patch Adams. What they got was something half as funny and, in my opinion, something twice as interesting.

The play takes place in Baghdad, Iraq in the midst of the second Gulf War. Impressively, this piece managed to avoid taking any strong political stance on the war, but simply explores the lives of those affected by it. The action revolves around a golden gun, stolen from the house of one of Saddam Hussein's sons during the raid. This gun journeys around the hands of several of the characters, who subsequently are haunted by ghosts. Robin Williams plays the role of a Tiger, suggested only by his movements and shaggy hair. Once the Tiger is killed in the opening scene, he sticks around, becoming and ever-looming figure as he broods on the existence of the soul and God.

The questions this play raises are questions often asked: What is God? Is there anything after this life? Can God really hear me? How do we know what is right? These questions and more are raised, raised and only half answered by the characters living and dying in the midst of the tumultuous Iraq war. The setting raises the stakes for the characters in a unique and interesting way. A slain Tiger's soul is left wandering the earth, trying to unravel the meaning of his continued existence. A translator for the US Military questions his loyalties (He was once the gardener for Saddam Hussein's sons. And a foolish young soldier finds himself wise in death, thus returning to help his dying friend. I could write about the plot for you, but it follows three separate stories and frankly, I don't feel like taking the time to go back through it all. So hopefully these snap shots of plot are enough to give you a general idea about the play.

I really enjoyed this piece. When it started, I felt the cues were a bit slow, but as the show gained momentum the dialogue became much tighter which added to the urgency of the story. Characters pondering spirituality and life can get dull, but when you place them in an active war zone full of intrigue, the musings become more desperate and the action far more interesting. I thought it was a good play, well written, interesting, and it gave Robin Williams a chance to flex both his comedic muscle (He had an excellent monologue about Tigers being Atheists) and search his way through deeper issues of meaning. I am shocked that this play had only 3 nominations and no wins at the Tonys. But even more than that, I was shocked that people left at intermission. Maybe its the fact that I'm a poor college student, but I'm not paying for a ticket to a Broadway show and getting my money's worth. I'm sorry Robin Williams wasn't cute enough for you. Maybe you'll like "The MotherF**ker with the Hat", I hear it won a few Tonys. My rating: **** out of *****

Catch and Release

So it's now been two straight weeks of destructuring for nearly 7 hours a day. Hopefully that explains why I went to bed around 9 o'clock on a Friday night in New York City. But really, there's only so much trouble one can get into when working on a limited budget.

This last week we dove pretty deep into the tremor work of Fitzmaurice. For those of you who don't know what Fitzmaurice Voicework is all about, let me try to explain in 30 words or less:

It has basically two parts: Destructuring, which involves freeing the muscles of respiration in order to allow freer breath to move through the whole body (Ribs, belly, and hips primarily), and Restructuring, the active control of the mechanisms of breathing in order to use air more efficiently, powerfully, and freely

I'm not sure how many words that was, and honestly if you're counting you missed the point. All that aside, you can learn a lot more about what I'm doing in New York City by visiting Catherine's website: www.fitzmauricevoice.com or Saul Kotzubei's website: www.voicecoachla.com.

I say all of that so hopefully the next things I have to say will make sense. This 4 week process is a teaching certification, but its also a serious workshop for those involved. Its our first real chance to really spend a lot of time deeply exploring the work and how it moves through our body under the ultimate guide. To use my friend John's metaphor, Fitzmaurice voicework is a lot like the Jedi order. Associate teachers (People like Daydrie and Joey, and possibly me soon) are the Jedi knights, skilled in the ways of the voice and practiced enough to represent the work faithfully out on their own. Then there are the Master teachers, which head the 'Jedi Council' and have been working with Catherine for as long as 30 years. Then there is Catherine, the ultimate master, presiding over all like the might Yoda. But don't tell her I said that, she might not find the comparison flattering.

This training is about showing me how to teach others, but perhaps even more its learning how to teach myself. The real beauty of this work is how it changes in each different person, and each new day. Our bodies are hardly the same moment to moment, and doing the destructing work requires one to work with the body as is, in the present moment. That's part of what makes it great training for a performer. But to me, its also great training as a human being. You can't really prepare, because what happens is not likely to fit any previous mold. The muscles and faculties of respiration are what keeps us alive, doing what is necessary from moment to moment to draw the next breath. Often, subconciously, they become a place where the tensions of unreleased emotion get tied up. When we're shaking those things loose, someone could cry, laugh, scream, and sometimes have a huge emotional meltdown. This work is NOT therapy, but often times the results can be theraputic if we let them.

Our bodies are well oiled machines (just ask an adolescent's face). More often than not they work without any conscious thought on our part. Usually, we don't even notice that we're breathing, much less digesting, pumping blood, flexing and unflexing muscles as we move about. Playing around with the border between controlled and uncontrolled is very exciting, as is intentionally trying to bring awareness and freedom to various places on the body. It's really exciting work. But also exhausting.

And in the end, each day is going to be different. The guy who was sobbing on the floor yesterday may never experience that specific kind of release again, because he finally let go of the tears from when his dog died 7 years ago. Or he might. Who knows. You have to put your expectations aside and just be. You can't land the big fish every time you cast out. And, in fact, you don't even want to. You want to cast out your line, see what you pull in (and sometimes its nothing!), then let it go. Discover yourself anew each day, and find the way to be the best you today.

Being Human

"If you're looking for the guilty, you need only look in the mirror."

V for Vendetta is one of my favorite movies. Hugo Weaving and Natalie Portman are both fantastic actors, and the writing is just outstanding. But I digress.

Another favorite quote of mine comes from the late great English playwright Oscar Wilde: I regard the theatre as the greatest of all art forms, the most immediate way in which a human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being.
 But what does that even mean? Do we, in fact, have a definition for what it is to be a human being?

The simple answer is no. We are ever evolving, adapting, and redefining what it means to be human. Look at technology. Now, anyone can carry a device in their pocket that can place the vast majority of the world's knowledge at one's fingertips. (And let me just say, I love my smart phone). Once upon a time, whoever had the most gun powder held the power. Before that the longbow. And before that it was fire (Rest in peace, Prometheus). 

To utilize that most frustrating of catch-22s, the only constant is change. We change our minds, our clothes, and our attitudes on a daily, hourly, and sometimes minutely (or whatever) basis. So how dare we say what it is to be human? How dare we think we can, using the same words ever night, capture the essence of human nature? 

Chaos. CHAOS. CHAOS!!!!

During my first week of Fitzmaurice voicework I've come to love with word. The beauty of the work we do is that it is geared towards taking all control away from you and making you simply respond to the hundreds of things that are inside of you at that very moment. And I have to tell you, it is one of the most annoying tasks in the world.

Saul Kotzubei, a master teacher in Fitzmaurice voicework, has been guiding us through a good bit of this half class - half teacher training 4 week long workshop, while also doing individual tutorials. While working in a private session, he said this to me (not these exact words, but close to it). I want you to let sound out in this position. But only if you want to. I want you to try and let whatever happens happen. But don't make it happen. Don't be too good of a student. If there's no sound, then don't force it. But don't force yourself to be silent either. But don't do what I tell you." 

Its a walking mass of contradictions. Doing this work requires you to listen to your body. But if you listen too closely, you're going to overthink and limit your ability to simply react. But you can't not listen, because if you are simply having an experience, the experience becomes impractical because the ultimate goal is to find a way to make the work applicable to your craft and life. 

I don't know if that even made sense. Rereading it, I can see how from the outside it sounds like a lot of crazy babbling. It feels that way on the inside sometimes. But you know what? The processing of the experience itself is part of the experience.

I guess I've written all that to say this: I think I've figured out what being human is all about. It's about everything. It's about what you had for breakfast. Its about the way you feel about the stupid things people tweet. Its about sitting in your apartment on a friday night and wishing you were doing something more exciting than blogging. But its also about what you didnt have for breakfast. Its about your decision to not call people out for the stupid things they tweet. Its about learning to be okay with doing what makes you happy rather than living up to some false ideal of what an exciting life in New York City should be. It's about being. And about not being. Its everything, and nothing, or maybe just a few things.

I'm still trying to put my finger on it. Or am I? 

The Young Review: The Importance of Being Earnest

Man, what a show. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

For those of you who don't know Oscar Wilde, I pity you. I had no idea who he was until my freshmen year when we put on a play at Auburn call "Lady Windermere's Fan." I didn't read the play in its entirety until our first read through (Sorry Daydrie! I was a freshmen, what can I say), and I never thought a play written about Victorian society could be so funny. Little did I know the wit that could hide in mere words.

This show exemplifies what I would want to see as pure entertainment. The story, for those of you who don't know, revolves around two young bachelors pretending to be people they eventually turn out to be anyway (That's the [abridged] short version. Oh yeah, and the name Ernest serves and ironic purpose). As far as ethics, morals, and the reality of the human condition goes, this play has very little to say. I mean sure, you could root around and pull all kinds of ideas and themes and theories. But to me, its a play simply about how ridiculous people can be within the confines of Victorian society.

And that, to me, is where this play finds its substance. This piece has to be performed in a very styalized manner complete different from the naturalism/realism of modern american theatre. Watching actors work within the confines of Victorian movement, RP British dialects, and period costuming is in and of itself a work of art. The precision of the language (in addition to working beautifully through audience responses) was simply masterful (Although I did witness my first line flub on broadway. It was only a small one).

By far the most impressive performance belonged to the deservingly Tony nominated Brian Bedford, who performed Lady Bracknell with poise, power, and precision. His vocal variety and hijinks provided many a laugh, and his portrayal of a powerful feminine character brought out the best in his fellow acts. Even more impressively, he also directed the play. His masterful work as both Actor and Director did a great deal to bring this classic piece to life and relevance for a modern audience. ***** out of *****

The Young Review: Catch Me If You Can

Let me start off by saying: I hate movie musicals.

I mean to me, they degrade what the whole purpose of theatre is. Film can do some many incredible things that theatre can only dream about. So then who thinks it's a good idea to take a movie and turn it into a musical?

Oddly enough, sometimes it works. After thinking on it for some time, I can't say with any confidence that "Catch Me If You Can" the musical does a good job of telling Frank Abagnale Jr's story the way the movie did. But take away the movie, and you actually have a pretty good show. Sure, the music was a little repetitive in style. And sure, they made a little too much of the script direct address for my personal tastes. But the show had a great number of positive aspects.

For starters, I believe this show is exactly what the laymen would expect broadway to be. The story was pretty easy to follow, the music upbeat and exciting, the dance excellent, and the lighting and costumes outstanding. It was a lot of glitz and glamour, with a little bit of heart to boot. One of the high points of the show was the end of the first act, where Frank Jr. (Played by Aaron Tveit) has his Christmas phone call with Agent Hanratty (Played by Norbert Leo Butz), and the heart of the story gets to show a little.

But aside from the brief moments of depth, the musical is about the big show stopping numbers where they sing about nothing which the dancers come out and back up the excellent vocals. Only two songs (Little Boy, be a Man and Someone Else's Skin), has the characters explore any sort of depth and work their way through a problem. I do have to say, though, the Agent Hanratty's big dance/song number (Don't Break the Rules) was one of the most impressive soft shoe-jives I've ever seen.

Again, all that is not to say it is a bad show. I really enjoyed myself, and definitely felt it was worth my money. But the artist in me will always long for something more out of a show, especially after seeing a piece like "The Normal Heart". But, like all Broadway shows, its goal is to make money and when you have a glamorous, fast-paced, and family friendly show like "Catch Me If You Can", you have the makings of a Broadway success. My rating is **** out of *****