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.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
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.
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 *****
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 *****
Saturday, June 18, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
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?
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?
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
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 *****
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 *****
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 *****
Friday, May 27, 2011
The Young Review: The Normal Heart
Two blog posts in one night? Cheese and Crackers Batman, he's gone from lazy to overachiever!!
Be ready to feel cheated, my, what, 5 readers? Unfortunately, you're not going to get a synopsis like you did for the last play. For one thing, it's getting to be late at night. For two things.....I really don't know if I can bring myself to go through that whole story again just yet.
All I have to say about 'The Normal Heart' is that it is everything theatre should be. It relied on convention, lights, costumes, and scene shifts, sure. But it captured what all good theatre is meant to do. At least in my opinion.
Through Playbill.com, 'The Normal Heart' had a special outreach night for young adults. If you showed an ID that proved you were born after 1980, you got a discount. And they had a special talkback after the show about AIDS awareness and the next generation. But what moved me in the talkback had less to do with the subject matter and more to do with what Lee Pace, the actor playing Bruce Niles, had to say about what the show was meant to do. The magic of the theatre is that it brings craftsmen and audience together into a space, and for one night they all agree to take a journey together. And what happens is for the people in that room. Try as we might, we cannot explain to someone who wasn't there what it was like to feel everyone's collected breath being held, or how it felt to feel every heart reach up onto the stage and hurt for the characters. No, it was for us. Just us. And 'The Normal Heart' accomplished that in a profound way. The production gave the audience a human story, and the audience gave the production a human response.
I think now I'm digressing a bit and just spewing what must smell like hog wash coming down from atop my artistic pedestal. And maybe you're right. Because I haven't found the words yet to describe that experience. But you can never make me believe that when 500 or so people come together and share in a performance of that caliber, something mystical and spiritual doesn't happen.
'The Normal Heart' is about the lives of a few men in New York City at the start of the AIDS epidemic, and their struggle to help the gay community respond to the disaster. They are in the midst of the crest of the sexual revolution: Gay men are finally becoming comfortable with who they are and expressing themselves and their love in a free way. But then the disease strikes. They're not sure where it came from, and less sure about how it is spreading. But the doctor who diagnosed patient zero and the man trying desperately to reach out to the community believe it is being spread through sex. Their great challenge is convincing their friends to take a stand and preach abstinence, and getting the government to recognize this epidemic and in some way help a community in disaster. But, as history shows, help and knowledge come too little, too late to save the hundreds who died in the first years.
Already some of you are rolling your eyes, or using your religious beliefs to put some sort of barrier between yourself and what this play has to say. But I challenge you to come see this play and remain unchanged. So often, especially in the South, issues like this have no face, no humanity: they become purely politics. This piece does what theatre should: it brings humanity back into the story. It puts faces on the struggles, and calls us to empathy.
I've been prejudiced in my life. I won't deny that. Anyone who knew me when I was younger would tell you that I was quick to want to condemn people. I'm still that way now, though hopefully less so. But there was a woman who came to the talkback who is the head of and AIDS outreach program that tries to educate young people. In the late 70s, her father received a blood transfusion containing what was then the unknown AIDS virus, and her father and mother both died of the disease, disgraced and looked down on as druggies or perverts. This is not, nor has it ever been, a gay man's disease. This plays tells the tragic story of how it became an epidemic that to this day has infected 75 million people worldwide. I would hope that regardless of who you are and what you believe, you can set aside some of your own judgements to look on this tragedy, acknowledge it for what it is, and vow to do what you can to never let something like this happen again.
Or not. Maybe you leave the theater disgusted, unable to believe someone would dignify such a story with a broadway stage. Maybe the sight of two men kissing is an abomination. Maybe the deaths of 35 million people are just desserts. Or maybe, just maybe, you can simply feel the power of the story. Simple be in the moment, there with the storytellers, listening with rapt ears like children in a library. Maybe you can leave the building not sure how to describe what you experience, just knowing that you felt something, and that sometimes feeling something is enough. It is, after all, what makes us human. And as the great Oscar Wilde said, "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 who am I to tell you what to do. All I will say is this: GO SEE THIS PLAY. It's a work of art.
Be ready to feel cheated, my, what, 5 readers? Unfortunately, you're not going to get a synopsis like you did for the last play. For one thing, it's getting to be late at night. For two things.....I really don't know if I can bring myself to go through that whole story again just yet.
All I have to say about 'The Normal Heart' is that it is everything theatre should be. It relied on convention, lights, costumes, and scene shifts, sure. But it captured what all good theatre is meant to do. At least in my opinion.
Through Playbill.com, 'The Normal Heart' had a special outreach night for young adults. If you showed an ID that proved you were born after 1980, you got a discount. And they had a special talkback after the show about AIDS awareness and the next generation. But what moved me in the talkback had less to do with the subject matter and more to do with what Lee Pace, the actor playing Bruce Niles, had to say about what the show was meant to do. The magic of the theatre is that it brings craftsmen and audience together into a space, and for one night they all agree to take a journey together. And what happens is for the people in that room. Try as we might, we cannot explain to someone who wasn't there what it was like to feel everyone's collected breath being held, or how it felt to feel every heart reach up onto the stage and hurt for the characters. No, it was for us. Just us. And 'The Normal Heart' accomplished that in a profound way. The production gave the audience a human story, and the audience gave the production a human response.
I think now I'm digressing a bit and just spewing what must smell like hog wash coming down from atop my artistic pedestal. And maybe you're right. Because I haven't found the words yet to describe that experience. But you can never make me believe that when 500 or so people come together and share in a performance of that caliber, something mystical and spiritual doesn't happen.
'The Normal Heart' is about the lives of a few men in New York City at the start of the AIDS epidemic, and their struggle to help the gay community respond to the disaster. They are in the midst of the crest of the sexual revolution: Gay men are finally becoming comfortable with who they are and expressing themselves and their love in a free way. But then the disease strikes. They're not sure where it came from, and less sure about how it is spreading. But the doctor who diagnosed patient zero and the man trying desperately to reach out to the community believe it is being spread through sex. Their great challenge is convincing their friends to take a stand and preach abstinence, and getting the government to recognize this epidemic and in some way help a community in disaster. But, as history shows, help and knowledge come too little, too late to save the hundreds who died in the first years.
Already some of you are rolling your eyes, or using your religious beliefs to put some sort of barrier between yourself and what this play has to say. But I challenge you to come see this play and remain unchanged. So often, especially in the South, issues like this have no face, no humanity: they become purely politics. This piece does what theatre should: it brings humanity back into the story. It puts faces on the struggles, and calls us to empathy.
I've been prejudiced in my life. I won't deny that. Anyone who knew me when I was younger would tell you that I was quick to want to condemn people. I'm still that way now, though hopefully less so. But there was a woman who came to the talkback who is the head of and AIDS outreach program that tries to educate young people. In the late 70s, her father received a blood transfusion containing what was then the unknown AIDS virus, and her father and mother both died of the disease, disgraced and looked down on as druggies or perverts. This is not, nor has it ever been, a gay man's disease. This plays tells the tragic story of how it became an epidemic that to this day has infected 75 million people worldwide. I would hope that regardless of who you are and what you believe, you can set aside some of your own judgements to look on this tragedy, acknowledge it for what it is, and vow to do what you can to never let something like this happen again.
Or not. Maybe you leave the theater disgusted, unable to believe someone would dignify such a story with a broadway stage. Maybe the sight of two men kissing is an abomination. Maybe the deaths of 35 million people are just desserts. Or maybe, just maybe, you can simply feel the power of the story. Simple be in the moment, there with the storytellers, listening with rapt ears like children in a library. Maybe you can leave the building not sure how to describe what you experience, just knowing that you felt something, and that sometimes feeling something is enough. It is, after all, what makes us human. And as the great Oscar Wilde said, "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 who am I to tell you what to do. All I will say is this: GO SEE THIS PLAY. It's a work of art.
The Young Review: The Motherf**ker with the Hat."
I already know what you're thinking. Especially if you're a family member or someone I once went to church with. WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT TITLE ABOUT?
Well, let me start by saying that this play would have turned you off. It had a lot of swearing, sex, and drug use. Literally, within the first 5 minutes the main female character (Veronica, played by Elizabeth Rodriguez) did a line off of a CD case. But if you can stomach adult themes/language, then dive in with me into a little review of this 8 time Tony-Nominated play.
The Story follows a brief period of the life of Jackie (played by Bobby Cannavale, Tony nominated and VERY deserved). He has just served two years in prison for dealing Meth and weed out of the apartment he shares with his girlfriend, Veronica, and comes in looking to turn things around for the better. Out on probation, he's found a job with the city and is going to get him and his girl a refrigirator and everything else they've ever dreamed of. He climbs into bed while Veronica primps in the bathroom, only to notice a hat sitting on the table. It's not his hate.
After a rage-filled screaming match, Jackie gathers his things and leaves to go and stay with his sponser, Ralph (Played by Chris Rock. Yes, THAT Chris Rock). We learn that Ralph is a bit of a douche, but someone who has gotten clean and is looking to help Jackie stay on track. Ralph's wife hates him, but its only revealed later just why. Jackie later decides to buy a gun, and threaten the man he believes is sleeping with his girlfriend. There is always one guy in the building who dresses real nice, talks real smooth, and looks around with shifty eyes: The motherfucker with the hat. So Jackie knocks on the door, knocks the man's hat to the floor, then shoots it.
Smooth right? Well, Jackie now goes to his cousin Julio who agrees to help Jackie and Ralph hide the gun, despite telling Jackie the inflated self image he has is dead wrong, and that "You're just not a very good person." Now living with Ralph, Jackie finds himself drinking and getting high with Ralph's wife one night while Ralph is out. After coming close to having it out, Victoria (Played by Anabella Sciorra) reveals that it's Ralph who has been sleeping with Veronica, and has been since he became Jackie's sponser while Jackie was in jail. Girded by his cousin, Jackie goes to confront Ralph. The two engage in a fight that ends quickly (Despite the fact that Chris Rock yeilds 100 pounds and what looks like several feet to mr. Cannavale) in a draw, leaving both men to converse in gasps on the floor. In the best moment of the play (in my opinion), Ralph reaches out to Jackie in a moment of true vulnerability, saying that aside from Jackie and his wife, Ralph doesnt have anyone who really knows him or considers him a friend. Ralph hopes that things can be okay, and admits that being sober has simply given him better means to take advantage of people. Jackie, however, rises triumphantly and says "I didn't get sober to live like that."
Jackie has to go back to jail for shooting the Motherfucker's hat (gun possesion violated his parole; who'dve guessed?), but before his vacation to Rikers he pays one last visit to Veronica to apologize. The play ends with her calling after him to no response.
So what did I think about all that? There was a nice article I read online about this show and the difficulties it faced in marketing. Well DUH. Broadway is, for the most part, a family-friendly attraction, and titles with the word "Fuck" aren't gonna fly on cable or in Newspapers. So understandably this show has not done all that well. Personally, I thought the plot development was a little spotty; there were scenes that needed more and scenes that needed less. It was a good story, but a little disjointed and overlong in places. How this got the nod for best play escapes me.
The acting was mostly good. I was invested in the story and pulling for the characters to succeed. But in the scenes that dragged it was seldom the text and more often the actors that let my interest wain. Julio (played by Yul Vazquez) did very little that was interesting vocally, and his one passionate monologue read like it was from a teleprompter. Bobby's work as Jackie shone out every time he was on stage, and brought out the best in the heated moments from both Chris and Elizabeth. My biggest technical concern were the voices. This show demanded a lot of screaming, and poor Elizabeth's neck looked like it was ready to explode every time. It must be the voice nerd in me, but I wanted to hang out by the stage door and beg them all to steam and Stemple after the show. Except Chris rock. Surprisingly his vocal presence sounded the healthiest and the most consistent, even if it wasn't always varied and interesting.
All in all, it was a good show, and anything with that many Tony nominations is worth seeing to form your own opinion. It was a decently written and performed show about the triumph of the human spirit over some pretty extreme odds, so in my book it gets *** out of *****. See it, but only if you get half priced booth tickets.
Well, let me start by saying that this play would have turned you off. It had a lot of swearing, sex, and drug use. Literally, within the first 5 minutes the main female character (Veronica, played by Elizabeth Rodriguez) did a line off of a CD case. But if you can stomach adult themes/language, then dive in with me into a little review of this 8 time Tony-Nominated play.
The Story follows a brief period of the life of Jackie (played by Bobby Cannavale, Tony nominated and VERY deserved). He has just served two years in prison for dealing Meth and weed out of the apartment he shares with his girlfriend, Veronica, and comes in looking to turn things around for the better. Out on probation, he's found a job with the city and is going to get him and his girl a refrigirator and everything else they've ever dreamed of. He climbs into bed while Veronica primps in the bathroom, only to notice a hat sitting on the table. It's not his hate.
After a rage-filled screaming match, Jackie gathers his things and leaves to go and stay with his sponser, Ralph (Played by Chris Rock. Yes, THAT Chris Rock). We learn that Ralph is a bit of a douche, but someone who has gotten clean and is looking to help Jackie stay on track. Ralph's wife hates him, but its only revealed later just why. Jackie later decides to buy a gun, and threaten the man he believes is sleeping with his girlfriend. There is always one guy in the building who dresses real nice, talks real smooth, and looks around with shifty eyes: The motherfucker with the hat. So Jackie knocks on the door, knocks the man's hat to the floor, then shoots it.
Smooth right? Well, Jackie now goes to his cousin Julio who agrees to help Jackie and Ralph hide the gun, despite telling Jackie the inflated self image he has is dead wrong, and that "You're just not a very good person." Now living with Ralph, Jackie finds himself drinking and getting high with Ralph's wife one night while Ralph is out. After coming close to having it out, Victoria (Played by Anabella Sciorra) reveals that it's Ralph who has been sleeping with Veronica, and has been since he became Jackie's sponser while Jackie was in jail. Girded by his cousin, Jackie goes to confront Ralph. The two engage in a fight that ends quickly (Despite the fact that Chris Rock yeilds 100 pounds and what looks like several feet to mr. Cannavale) in a draw, leaving both men to converse in gasps on the floor. In the best moment of the play (in my opinion), Ralph reaches out to Jackie in a moment of true vulnerability, saying that aside from Jackie and his wife, Ralph doesnt have anyone who really knows him or considers him a friend. Ralph hopes that things can be okay, and admits that being sober has simply given him better means to take advantage of people. Jackie, however, rises triumphantly and says "I didn't get sober to live like that."
Jackie has to go back to jail for shooting the Motherfucker's hat (gun possesion violated his parole; who'dve guessed?), but before his vacation to Rikers he pays one last visit to Veronica to apologize. The play ends with her calling after him to no response.
So what did I think about all that? There was a nice article I read online about this show and the difficulties it faced in marketing. Well DUH. Broadway is, for the most part, a family-friendly attraction, and titles with the word "Fuck" aren't gonna fly on cable or in Newspapers. So understandably this show has not done all that well. Personally, I thought the plot development was a little spotty; there were scenes that needed more and scenes that needed less. It was a good story, but a little disjointed and overlong in places. How this got the nod for best play escapes me.
The acting was mostly good. I was invested in the story and pulling for the characters to succeed. But in the scenes that dragged it was seldom the text and more often the actors that let my interest wain. Julio (played by Yul Vazquez) did very little that was interesting vocally, and his one passionate monologue read like it was from a teleprompter. Bobby's work as Jackie shone out every time he was on stage, and brought out the best in the heated moments from both Chris and Elizabeth. My biggest technical concern were the voices. This show demanded a lot of screaming, and poor Elizabeth's neck looked like it was ready to explode every time. It must be the voice nerd in me, but I wanted to hang out by the stage door and beg them all to steam and Stemple after the show. Except Chris rock. Surprisingly his vocal presence sounded the healthiest and the most consistent, even if it wasn't always varied and interesting.
All in all, it was a good show, and anything with that many Tony nominations is worth seeing to form your own opinion. It was a decently written and performed show about the triumph of the human spirit over some pretty extreme odds, so in my book it gets *** out of *****. See it, but only if you get half priced booth tickets.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Talking the Walk
So I've been up here nearly a week, and the most common emotion I've felt? BOREDOM! Strange right? I mean I'm in one of the most exciting cities on the planet, in a hot bed of artistic endeavors and yet more often then not I've just been chilling and enjoying a little vacation time. Oh, and writing a meaningless blog that no one's reading.
Here's what I've decided. One: This is an expensive city. I've already made a hefty investment just to stay here, much less attend the certification. Food will clean you out in a hurry, so you've got to be careful you don't run out of money! Two: Sometimes I have expectations of things that exceed their ability.
This is often something that happens (to me at least): Perception surpasses reality. I have a tendency to build things up in my head and expect them to be non-stop action adreneline rushes that stimulate the mind and soul in an explosive manner. But here's the reality of New York City: it is exactly what you make it. Simply being somewhere doesn't make life more interesting. You've got to step out and take some risks and enjoy some adventures. And even living in the space station won't wake you up every day feeling like you're living on the edge. Bottom line? Get out there and do something! Which I am doing today. Gonna hit the natural history museum, then the TKTS booth to try and grab some cheap tickets to see Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo. Very excited to watch Robin Williams try his hand at something a little darker.
Here's what I've decided. One: This is an expensive city. I've already made a hefty investment just to stay here, much less attend the certification. Food will clean you out in a hurry, so you've got to be careful you don't run out of money! Two: Sometimes I have expectations of things that exceed their ability.
This is often something that happens (to me at least): Perception surpasses reality. I have a tendency to build things up in my head and expect them to be non-stop action adreneline rushes that stimulate the mind and soul in an explosive manner. But here's the reality of New York City: it is exactly what you make it. Simply being somewhere doesn't make life more interesting. You've got to step out and take some risks and enjoy some adventures. And even living in the space station won't wake you up every day feeling like you're living on the edge. Bottom line? Get out there and do something! Which I am doing today. Gonna hit the natural history museum, then the TKTS booth to try and grab some cheap tickets to see Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo. Very excited to watch Robin Williams try his hand at something a little darker.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Adventures of the Grid
One my my favorite things about big Cities like Miami, New York, and Chicago is that they're grid cities. You can take a different and random route home and if you're capable of doing basic math it's VERY difficult to get lost. But I must admit that having a smart phone makes things 100x easier. But sadly, there's nothing to really report: I visited Central Park, went and had some drinks with a friend, but mostly I just did a whole lot of nothing on a nasty rainy day in NYC. Hopefully tonight I'll go see a play or something.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Culture Boner
A bit of an uncouth title, I know...I blame Kat Dennings.
Don't know who that is? GOOGLE IT.
Which brings me to my next point. One of the perks of city life? Running into celebrities. In a big, cultural center like New York City, its easy to run into people you recognize from TV, the movies, or internet. I've got a few friends in the city right now, fellow students in fact, and while enjoying the instant classic that is The Book of Mormon, they ran into more than a handful of recognizable celebrities (I think I'm right in naming Joey Gray, Robin Williams, and most of the cast of Modern Family. Cool right? I mean, that's why you come to the big city, isn't it?
Actually, if I may I'd like to dispute that point. Now, I don't mean to chastise anyone for star-chasing or enjoying seeing some of there favorite stars in person, but I do think that we as a society are obsessed with Star Power. Again, let me back track and say the nice thing is most of our celebrities are renowned for their skill. LeBron James is an incredible player, who from my observation continues to work on his game. Peyton Manning is one of the best quarterbacks to ever play the game. Robert Downey Jr. is a fantastic actor who's done a good job of cleaning up his private life.
But we also have our Paris Hiltons, our Heidi and Spencers, and the immaculate Charlie Sheen, who's only talent is putting that much coke up his nose and still being alive (And again, I'm officially on a list). Sometimes celebrities have their renown for reasons unbeknownst to those among us who are sane. And the balance between legitimate celebrities and these faux-celebs always seems to be at a dangerous impasse. The solution? A smarter public.
I went to see Denzel Washington last year in the revival of August Wilson's "Fences". Now, I love Denzel. He is without a doubt one of the finest actors working in the film industry today. But I fell in love with Fences when I read it as a freshmen in my beginning acting class, and what excited me most about the play was watching a good actor tell a compelling story. Denzel did not disappoint, but my fellow audience members did. They gasped when it was revealed that Troy had a love child, clearly showing (IMO) that very few of the audience members had bothered to read the play before coming to see it. Now, here many people will propose a counter-argument: "I wanted to go into the play not knowing anything about it, so that I wouldn't have any expectations." OK, fair point. I did the same thing with Next to Normal. But then I raise you this questions: How many people went to see a play about race relations and the struggles of poor black folks during the 50s, and how many went to say they saw Denzel Washington perform live? How many people asked themselves "Why revive this play? And why did it win the Pulitzer?"
Now I have to also admit: at 21 years old, I am far from a culture buff. I've been playing catch-up ever since I got to college, and I'm a far cry from the ideal standard-bearer for this cause. But at the same time, I don't think it's wrong for me to ask why as a society we have such a hard on for people like Charlie Sheen and the Cast of Jersey Shore, or even skilled actors like Denzel Washington, instead of a desire to learn something about the struggle of human existence?
If I could have one wish, I'd wish for more wishes.
Then, with one of those wishes, I would wish that as a society we would come together and embrace the beauty of story telling. Art is about a depiction of the human condition, not the medium through which it is depicted. I would want us all to walk around trying to hide our raging culture boners. But hey, what do I know. These are just the aimless ramblings of a street rat.
Don't know who that is? GOOGLE IT.
Which brings me to my next point. One of the perks of city life? Running into celebrities. In a big, cultural center like New York City, its easy to run into people you recognize from TV, the movies, or internet. I've got a few friends in the city right now, fellow students in fact, and while enjoying the instant classic that is The Book of Mormon, they ran into more than a handful of recognizable celebrities (I think I'm right in naming Joey Gray, Robin Williams, and most of the cast of Modern Family. Cool right? I mean, that's why you come to the big city, isn't it?
Actually, if I may I'd like to dispute that point. Now, I don't mean to chastise anyone for star-chasing or enjoying seeing some of there favorite stars in person, but I do think that we as a society are obsessed with Star Power. Again, let me back track and say the nice thing is most of our celebrities are renowned for their skill. LeBron James is an incredible player, who from my observation continues to work on his game. Peyton Manning is one of the best quarterbacks to ever play the game. Robert Downey Jr. is a fantastic actor who's done a good job of cleaning up his private life.
But we also have our Paris Hiltons, our Heidi and Spencers, and the immaculate Charlie Sheen, who's only talent is putting that much coke up his nose and still being alive (And again, I'm officially on a list). Sometimes celebrities have their renown for reasons unbeknownst to those among us who are sane. And the balance between legitimate celebrities and these faux-celebs always seems to be at a dangerous impasse. The solution? A smarter public.
I went to see Denzel Washington last year in the revival of August Wilson's "Fences". Now, I love Denzel. He is without a doubt one of the finest actors working in the film industry today. But I fell in love with Fences when I read it as a freshmen in my beginning acting class, and what excited me most about the play was watching a good actor tell a compelling story. Denzel did not disappoint, but my fellow audience members did. They gasped when it was revealed that Troy had a love child, clearly showing (IMO) that very few of the audience members had bothered to read the play before coming to see it. Now, here many people will propose a counter-argument: "I wanted to go into the play not knowing anything about it, so that I wouldn't have any expectations." OK, fair point. I did the same thing with Next to Normal. But then I raise you this questions: How many people went to see a play about race relations and the struggles of poor black folks during the 50s, and how many went to say they saw Denzel Washington perform live? How many people asked themselves "Why revive this play? And why did it win the Pulitzer?"
Now I have to also admit: at 21 years old, I am far from a culture buff. I've been playing catch-up ever since I got to college, and I'm a far cry from the ideal standard-bearer for this cause. But at the same time, I don't think it's wrong for me to ask why as a society we have such a hard on for people like Charlie Sheen and the Cast of Jersey Shore, or even skilled actors like Denzel Washington, instead of a desire to learn something about the struggle of human existence?
If I could have one wish, I'd wish for more wishes.
Then, with one of those wishes, I would wish that as a society we would come together and embrace the beauty of story telling. Art is about a depiction of the human condition, not the medium through which it is depicted. I would want us all to walk around trying to hide our raging culture boners. But hey, what do I know. These are just the aimless ramblings of a street rat.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Leaving on a Jet Plan
In order to keep track of everything that happens on this wild and crazy trip, I've decided to start blogging. Hopefully I will update every day with interesting stories, but there's no promises. Anyway, here's a little post to commemorate my first night!
I had a thought on the plane ride here. Actually, I had several but that's not the point. Ever wonder why on earth they're so stingy with the snacks? I mean plenty of airlines charge for wifi, all of them charge to check bags, and every last one costs an arm and a leg to actually get on...DESPITE being a dangerous form of transportation. And STILL they skimp on the snacks! Now don't get me wrong, there are plenty of injustices in the world that are far greater than a lack of snacks, but the fact that Delta wants to pretend like its offering snacks when its really offering a bit and a gulp is kind of offensive. Part of me wants to lead an uprising on the plane to take over the snack cart! FREE SNACKS AND COKE FOR EVERYONE!!!!
But, given the fact that I just said "plane" and "uprising" in the same sentence, I'm now on some government watch list. But hey, now that you've visited this website, SO ARE YOU!!!
Seriously though, I'm glad to have been on a plane ride where everyone just minded their own business and behaved. Heck, even the babies on board were quiet! (At least until we landed. Then all hell broke loose.) I've read too many stories about crazy Americans doing stupid things on planes to really feel the need to lead a snack-fueled rebellion. So through rain and fog, on wing and wind, I have arrived in the Mecca of theatre to begin my adventures and prepare for my internship with the immaculate Catherine Fitzmaurice. Let the fun begin!
I had a thought on the plane ride here. Actually, I had several but that's not the point. Ever wonder why on earth they're so stingy with the snacks? I mean plenty of airlines charge for wifi, all of them charge to check bags, and every last one costs an arm and a leg to actually get on...DESPITE being a dangerous form of transportation. And STILL they skimp on the snacks! Now don't get me wrong, there are plenty of injustices in the world that are far greater than a lack of snacks, but the fact that Delta wants to pretend like its offering snacks when its really offering a bit and a gulp is kind of offensive. Part of me wants to lead an uprising on the plane to take over the snack cart! FREE SNACKS AND COKE FOR EVERYONE!!!!
But, given the fact that I just said "plane" and "uprising" in the same sentence, I'm now on some government watch list. But hey, now that you've visited this website, SO ARE YOU!!!
Seriously though, I'm glad to have been on a plane ride where everyone just minded their own business and behaved. Heck, even the babies on board were quiet! (At least until we landed. Then all hell broke loose.) I've read too many stories about crazy Americans doing stupid things on planes to really feel the need to lead a snack-fueled rebellion. So through rain and fog, on wing and wind, I have arrived in the Mecca of theatre to begin my adventures and prepare for my internship with the immaculate Catherine Fitzmaurice. Let the fun begin!
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