Afterwards

It’s difficult to know what to say in the wake of tragedy.  This kind of thing effects different people in different ways and, not being someone gifted/cursed with a great deal of empathy, it’s double difficult for me to come to any conclusion about something appropriate to relate.

The last lines of Shakespeare’s tragedies are generally attempts by his very human characters to break the impossible tension of the play’s events.  Often these words are uttered over a stage strewn with corpses; the trail of ruin that true tragedy leaves in its wake.

Instead of trying to come up with something to say myself, I thought I’d take a moment to survey these lines for you in hopes that they will provide something more profound than any axiom I could utter.

Stay safe, everyone.

“My rage is gone;
And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
Help, three o’ the chiefest soldiers; I’ll be one.
Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
Hath widow’d and unchilded many a one,
Which to this hour bewail the injury,
Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.” –Aufidius, Coriolanus, 5.6

Aufidius, seeing Coriolanus dead, feels sorrow for his nemesis.  His tenderness towards Coriolanus and willingness to honor his mortal enemy in death shows a true humanity to Aufidius; the man, not the soldier, closes this show.

“Let four captains
Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;
For he was likely, had he been put on,
To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,
The soldiers’ music and the rites of war
Speak loudly for him.
Take up the bodies: such a sight as this
Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Go, bid the soldiers shoot.” –Fortinbras, Hamlet, 5.2

This one has given me particular cause for ire over the years due to directors purposefully misinterpreting it to mean “take Horatio out back and shoot him”.  I’ve already expounded upon why this is a bad idea so I don’t feel the need to hammer it home here.

“The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.” – Albany, King Lear, 5.3

Perhaps the most profound of the end-tags; I’ve always had a special fondness for this one since it can apply to not just a tragedy, but also to many other aspects of life when politics is involved.  For example: it was an utterance first delivered me by a professor when we were in conference before a talkback with an important director whose work we had just seen.

“Gratiano, keep the house,
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor,
Remains the censure of this hellish villain;
The time, the place, the torture: O, enforce it!
Myself will straight aboard: and to the state
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.” – Lodovico, Othello, 5.2

Lodovico’s instinct to take charge of the situation and his burden to inform the people of what has transpired is a burden that many leaders will feel during such times of crisis.  Having to stay strong for other people makes us strong within ourselves.  Lodovico, rather than break down completely, takes it upon himself to be a pillar for the people.

“A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” – Prince, Romeo and Juliet, 5.3

Perhaps one of the most famous last lines, owing perhaps to the Reduced Shakespeare Company’s Romeo and Juliet portion of Complete Works of Wllm Shkspr [abrgd]…. Or maybe that’s just how I remember it.

My most profound sympathies go out to the people effected by yesterday’s events.  Stay strong, Boston.

An Open Letter to New England

Dear New England,

We seriously need to talk.

Now, I know you have your quirks and I have mine.  And I will grant, I am not always the easiest person to live with.  But this passive-aggressive behavior has got to stop.

You run so hot and cold these days, I just don’t know what to do to please you.  One moment, I’m enjoying a run outside, the next moment I’m bundled in all manner of winter gear and trying to stay dry because you can’t decide whether you want to rain or snow.  I will admit that there is a certain beauty to you once you’ve had done with your tantrums; when the snow rests peacefully on the trees and icicles hang sparkling from the eaves.  I will also say that in your milder moments, there’s nowhere in the world I would rather be.

a pretty moment I caught on campus yesterday

a pretty moment I caught on campus yesterday

The colors you wear in your fall wardrobe are unmatched, and your beautiful springtime airs are really all that a girl can ask for.

But then it becomes winter.  And your mercurial side simply won’t allow for any reasonable moderate discourse.  I’m always walking on thin (or sometimes thick) ice with you.  I can’t make any firm plans because I don’t know how you’ll behave on a given day.  You make it impossible to go out sometimes because you throw these tantrums that I’ve never seen anything like before in my life.

You know how much I hate shoveling.  I’ve complained enough about it that I can’t imagine you would have missed this fact about me.  And I will admit that everyone needs to make compromises; if I didn’t agree to some small amount of shoveling, I wouldn’t be able to see you in your autumn splendor.  But this promise of something warmer and then yanking it away before my eyes has simply got to stop.

I thought I was done with winter.  I thought I was done with the hoisting, the hefting, the cold sweats.  I thought I was done with the aching back and the chapped face.

But you couldn’t even give me that.

And, as though to add insult to injury, you decide that on the day my brand new theatre company debuts its brand new production that you know I’ve been working hard on and losing sleep over, you’re going to upstage it by making your own scene.  So you huff and you puff and you blow parking regulations down, and we have no recourse but to cancel.  This night, this night I’ve been looking forward to, this night I’ve been working so hard for, is now taken away from me.  Lost into the swirling white of your raging temper.

I really don’t know what else to say to you.  I don’t think that there’s a way you can make this up to me.  It’s time for some serious re-evaluation of our relationship, New England.  Let me recommend that you start groveling.  Right now.  I’m sad and disappointed at the moment, but this will quickly dissolve into rage.  And really, trust me, you won’t like me when I’m angry.

Regards,

Danielle

In case you couldn’t gather from this: due to a weather-induced parking ban in Winthrop, we’ve had to cancel Twelfth Night for this evening.  We will be back tomorrow full-force and hungry, though, so don’t give up on us!  Come and support our efforts as we bring you our experiment in communal theatre for the very first time!

Unstuck in Time

The days keep doing this thing where they blend together; one week rolls into another and I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished much of anything.  This is particularly funny given how many things are on my desk right now.  The main problem is I’m smack dab in the middle of a bunch of big projects and, for whatever reason, the projects I have basically completed feel very distant.

Measure for Measure closes this Saturday, but the bulk of my work on this show happened over the summer.  I’m proud to have worked on it, but for whatever reason the show’s run doesn’t feel like anything real or tangible.  Insert some comment about the fleeting nature of live theatre here.

Twelfth Night rehearsals continue and we’re starting to really have a show.  We did some

at least campus is looking really pretty... if a little soggy due to the great thaw

at least campus is looking really pretty… if a little soggy due to the great thaw

costume/prop digging last night and have most of our cast clothed (of course, I’m one of the exceptions since my quick-changes partnered with the two drastically different roles I’m playing make me exceedingly difficult to costume… but!  I have a vast wardrobe and a gay best friend to help; we’ll work it out).  Again, this doesn’t feel really real yet… we’ll see what happens when we start inserting props and costumes into the rehearsal space.

I got a big proposal off my team’s desk for my ASTR sub-committee, but the project’s in a holding pattern until it is approved by the big cheese Executive boards.  We are doing a wonderful job of hurrying up to wait.  The brief thrill of excitement at having submitted the proposal was quickly quashed by the dawning realization that we had created a lot of work for ourselves, but couldn’t do any of it until we were given the official green light to continue.  Work hanging over my head about which I can do nothing is perhaps the worst feeling in the world.  Ah well; provided the project is thumbs-upped by all official parties, it should be a very useful thing for the Graduate Student community.  Here’s hoping!

I’m working on a lecture for the class I’m TAing.  Actually, I’m writing this entry as a method of procrastinating from compiling my research notes.  I’m certain that this particular project will become more real-feeling as soon as it is anything more than a pile of disparate word documents.  Maybe a PowerPoint will help.  PowerPoints always make things more real.

Reading, reading, reading for my coursework.  This is a tiresome and thankless job and there’s always more to do.  Completing the week’s reading never feels like an accomplishment because there’s just going to be more dumped on your plate right after.  Really, finishing your assigned reading for the week just means you should be working harder on your papers, presentations, abstracts, or side projects.  Blargh.

board doodle from my ancient theory class.  This is what we do in Grad School.

board doodle from my ancient theory class. This is what we do in Grad School.

German progresses apace (though I took the weekend off to be with my family who came to town to visit me).  As the date of my exam draws loomingly closer (it’s in April, it’s not really all that close), I worry more and more about my own ability to translate anything not written for an eight year old audience.  I’m probably ready to step up my practice reading to something a little more convoluted than Grimm’s.  The Grimm’s tales are great and they were wonderful to get my feet wet, but I’m reading them pretty solidly now (with the occasional pause for vocabulary check).  The test is going to be administered on the level of academic-style writing; not exactly children’s fables.  Ah well.  Bring on the crazy grammar constructions and crammed-together German words.

Podcasting is a constant joy interspersed with panic at finding the time to do it.  The posting has been on hiatus for a few weeks due to my Partner’s real-life exploding all over him.  We should be back tomorrow with the wrap-up of Comedy of Errors and then onward next week to one of my favorite plays Love’s Labour’s Lost.  In case you haven’t already, go check us out!  We make great buddies for your commute!

So despite my busy busy schedule, nothing seems to be landing at the moment.  My life may be fast-paced and exciting, but it’s all a bit hollow right now.  I’m certain the feeling will pass; really what I want is a couple weeks off and somewhere sunny to go without worry about Renaissance playwrights.  Is that an awful lot to ask?

Well, in any case, I did have fun with my family.  Here’s some videographic proof.

Community Theatre

This weekend, I saw some friends in a community theatre production (both friends’ names and the name of said production will be withheld to protect the innocent).

The show was okay, the venue was darling, my friends are pretty darn talented. As we watched community theatre in action, myself and my compatriots had a few observations about what makes good theatre into great theatre and what can be riveting about something happening onstage. Perhaps more importantly, we had some D.O.A. don’t do’s that I think the world at large could really benefit from understanding and taking into consideration.

The first thing to keep in mind (and this is particularly important when doing community or

Not all theatre can be this...

Not all theatre can be this…

non-professional theatre) is that every individual should know his strengths and his weaknesses. If a show calls for something (say, a fight scene), that something should be executed to the best of the group’s ability. If there is someone in the group with an expertise (particularly an unexpected expertise), that individual owes it to the group to step up and say something. In return, the group owes it to the individual to respect his expertise. In other words: your fight will look awful if you don’t know how to fight. Or if you think you know how to fight. You have nothing to lose by discussing other ideas or approaches with those around you. No one will disrespect you if someone happens to come along and know a little thing that you don’t. What will make your show weaker is stubbornly clinging to the insistence that you know something. That will, definitively, poison what you have onstage. For this example, fighting safe is the top priority; but if you can fight well then for the non-denominational deity’s sake, fight well. I refuse to sit through another half-hearted, bumbling stage fight… especially when I know that someone in your cast has enough experience to actually make it look decent. Grow up, man up, and admit you don’t know everything.

Second: elegance is refusal. Your show will be cleaner, more professional, and more tolerable if your scene changes are less than ten seconds each. If you have a change that involves anything more involved, for the love of all things holy cut the scene change. Find some creative way to work around it. Chances are it’s costing you more money than it’s worth. Having your already antsy audience sit in darkness for an awkwardly long time is simply not worth the headache it will cause to your stage hands and the polite folks who are sitting through your production.

….Personally, I’m done being polite, but many people don’t have the same cavalier attitude about theatre as I do. I have paid good money to see your show, I expect to be entertained and/or moved, not sit and stew while you bumble around with something far too big and involved to be worth the time to move it. Cut. It.

...but it can be this.

…but it can be this.

Thing three: don’t expect me to be nice. I’m done being nice. I have to be nice all day all the time with my students, cohorts, and professors. I have to be nice via e-mail to my networking connections. I have to be nice to the random people I encounter at the library and/or coffee shop. As far as I can see it, I spend faaarrrrrr too much of my time being nice. Seeing theatre is something that I count as part of my job, but it’s also something that I do on my own personal time. As such, generally, I don’t feel the urge to censor myself when I’m giving feedback about a show that I was asked to go see. If you want me to see your show (and I understand if you don’t), I’m not going to smile and tell you how great you were if you didn’t earn it. I’m not going to laugh if it’s not funny. I’m not going to clap if it wasn’t worth the applause. I will give you an honest opinion; I will try to cushion the blow if I have something scathing to say and at least make it constructive criticism; I will (generally) refrain from bashing your show on the internet (…unless it really really deserved it… Harvard Revels, I’m looking at you). I will not go out of my way to be an evil jerk, but you get what you earn from me. Just because this is your hobby doesn’t mean I have to hang your macaroni pictures on my refrigerator and praise how them every time I want a beer.

Don’t worry, I expect the same of you when you come to see my show. If it’s not working, TELL ME. I don’t want to be out there doing something that I think is brilliant if it isn’t landing with an audience. I can’t see myself from the stage. You, the audience, are an important part of my experience as a theatre-maker. If you see something in performance that you think could make the performance stronger, of course I want to know about it.

In a creative process, giving and taking feedback is important. In a creative process that’s essentially art for art’s sake, it’s even more important. If the product is going to be a lump of raw talent held together by the spittle of one over-worked and over-egoed director, it simply won’t stick. It takes integrity to make a show into something worth seeing, and integrity comes from the strength of the whole. If you want to make art in your spare time (and it is a noble pursuit… and fulfilling when it works out), learn to be an active member of the community. If you can’t handle that, take up painting or sculpture. Theatre is a communal activity and only a strong community can make a strong show.

Why I Don’t Leave my Tower

It’s been a while since I’ve had a good rant about normal people, so I guess I was due in for one.

Through a series of related events, I’ve had to interact with a great many normies of late.  You know the type; people who hold down society-approved jobs, who are good at those jobs, and who probably don’t interact much with people who don’t hold down such positions.  This is generally fine, except for when you find yourself in a situation where these people feel compelled to make small talk (i.e. at a doctor’s office while tests are being run, at your hairdresser while your hair is drying, etc.)  Inevitably, the first question anyone asks is “what do you do?” and they expect a clean-cut answer with no frills.

Things are rarely clean-cut in my world and almost never have no frills.  I swear if one more person asks me as a follow-up question to my inevitable answer of “I’m getting my PhD” “Well, what are you going to do with that?” I’m going to go berserk Homer Simpson style and (literally) bounce off the walls.

Today, a new one got added to the small talk blacklist.  After telling a very nice and well-meaning lady that I’m a PhD student she replied, “Oh, well, at least you don’t have to work.”

Uhm… EXCUSE ME?

Actually, I tend to work 60-80 hour weeks with no break.  I work through weekends and days that normal people are allotted “off”.  I take work with me wherever I go in case I have ten minutes in a coffee shop because god forbid I not be reading during that time.  I’m pretty much on call constantly as students tend to e-mail me at whatever hour they’re at their machines (I try to make a rule that I don’t reply after 6PM and only reply on weekends in case of emergency just to maintain my own sanity, but that doesn’t mean the work isn’t sitting in my inbox).  I serve as chair to a committee for my professional organization; this is a volunteer position for which I’m getting paid in networking opportunities, a line on my CV, and happy thoughts about how I will positively impact the future of my field.  Since my committee is also made up of volunteers, we all work when we have the time to.  We’re on

That's my desk right now covered in things I have to take care of today...  but at least I'm not working.

That’s my desk right now covered in things I have to take care of today… but at least I’m not working.

three separate time zones, we’re all busy graduate students, and it’s not unheard of to be drafting things together at unreasonable hours of the day/night.  Though I make my own hours, I work until I’m done.  Since I’m a perfectionist, this can be late nights and early mornings (though generally more like 2AM “early mornings” than 6AM “early mornings”).

Yea, sure, at least I don’t have to work.

The problem is you can’t really say this to the well-meaning nice people who are only trying to get through their own day.  They don’t understand what it is that they’ve said (which is why they said it in the first place).  Really, it’s a societal problem; there’s a huge lack of understanding about what graduate school (particularly at the PhD level) actually entails.  Those near and dear to me know, one way or another, that I’m busy even if they don’t necessarily understand what that is or what it means.  I no longer (or very rarely) get the piss taken out of me for missing social gatherings because I have to work.  I no longer (or very rarely) have to explain that despite the fact that I’m sitting at my machine in my sweats, pajamas,  or some amalgamation of both, I’m actually working.  I no longer (or very rarely) feel the need to defend my life choices to those whom I speak with.

Which is why it hits me every time something like this happens.  It’s excruciatingly frustrating to feel like the person taking appointments for your hairdresser thinks that you’re “not working”.  I mean really, what does her job entail besides surfing facebook and playing angry birds?

So spread the awareness folks.  Tell everyone you know.  Sit them down and break it to them gently: if they should ever in their travels encounter a PhD student in the wild, appropriate questions to ask are “what does your work entail?”, “Any ideas for what your dissertation will be about?”, “What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever written on a student paper?”.  Asking “what are you going to do with that?” or decrying that they are essentially a giant leech on society because their job isn’t the same as your job is about as appropriate as me telling a Medical Doctor that her degree has taught her nothing and she may as well be a denizen of Plato’s cave, grunting at shadows because she hasn’t ever seen the bright light of truth and therefore isn’t a true philosopher.

Because I swear, if one more person (well-meaning or not) makes this insinuation again, someone’s getting punched.

…I may add a paypal donation button to the side of the page soon.  It will go directly to the bail fund for when I’m inevitably brought up on assault charges for defending the academy’s good name.  It won’t be my fault that my opponent doesn’t understand the act of gauntlet throwing and I cannot be held responsible for my actions.

Some Unsolicited Advice

For most people, January is a time for resolutions, re-thinking the events of the past year, and re-evaluating things you can do to make your life happier, better, and on the whole more livable.  Although living on an academic schedule means that I don’t abide by the normal rules of time, most of my friends are of the population for whom the year actually begins and ends in accordance with a lunar calendar.  I also can’t help but recall that this is the time of year when PhD applications are in and everyone who has made the big decision to commit to a life of academia (or at least is flirting with the idea) has already given the dice a good, solid roll and is now in the horrible waiting space of trying to figure out what’s going to come up.

The waiting space is awful.  For everyone going through it, my heart most sincerely goes out to you.

Some recent events in my life (and the lives of those around me) have made me stop to think about some of my own choices.

As you can tell if you read this blog with any frequency, my life is not easy.  In fact, it’s overwhelmingly difficult sometimes.  I have a lot of things which require my attention, a lot of things which I worry about, and almost no certainty in anything.

But you know what?  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m constantly saying that I know I’ve made the correct decisions because, even when I’m having a bad day and facing problems that seem insurmountable, I know with the utmost certainty that I would rather be facing these problems than any other.

Friends constantly make the observation that I always seem happy in what I’m doing,

This adventure never would have happened if I hadn't taken a leap into the darkness.... (Shakespeare & Company; 2008)

This adventure never would have happened if I hadn’t taken a leap into the darkness…. (Shakespeare & Company; 2008)

even when I’m overwhelmed.  And you know what, blog-o-sphere?  I am.  I’m busy, I’m crazed, I’m fighting a trip to the literary loony bin with every passing moment, but I am happy.

So, if you are amongst those January-people, here is some completely unsolicited (but, in my experience, completely sound) advice for how to be, similarly, happy.  It’s slightly outside of the scope of my usual writings, but I feel that this needs to be said.  How do you know my advice is sound, you ask?  Because I’ve already told you that I, myself, have experienced that it works.  And I’m pretty smart.  And modest.  I’m way modest.

Change is inevitable and nothing good every came from stagnation.  To quote perhaps the wisest of them all, Ralph Waldo Emerson, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds”.  A man’s life, lived only in a continually enacted pattern, is a violation against his nature.  Happiness doesn’t come from complacency.  Complacency is the mind-killer and the greatest thing to be feared.  Embrace the change, seek the change, and don’t be afraid of the change.  It’s your best friend on the road to happiness.

Speaking of fear, it’s inevitable.  My mom (a wise person herself) claims that it’s an acronym for “False Expectations Appearing Real”.  I’m not sure where this originated (I think it’s some therapist’s credo of some kind), but it’s been comforting to me.  Fear is to be expected and, if you spend your life hiding from fear, you’re never going to find happiness.  Do things that scare you.  In my experience, those have been the only truly fulfilling things that I have done.

Nor this adventure (Tufts; 2011)

Nor this adventure (Tufts; 2011)

The great swath of the unknown which exists on the brink of our universe is where adventure lies.  Just like Bilbo Baggins, nobody who is content to stay at home will ever find it.  I’m not saying there’s no value in having a nice, cozy place to come home to when you’re done adventuring, but if you have the option between a mediocre nest and a potentially fulfilling adventure, step off the edges of the map.  Nobody lived a fulfilling life only by wishing.

Plans never work out the way you planned them.  Flexibility is another key to finding the elusive happiness beast.  That’s not to say don’t plan; plan.  Plan to your heart’s content.  Just don’t expect that everything will line up the way you anticipate it and expect for some things to go wrong.  Do not hang your happiness on expectation.

Enjoy the ride and try, as much as you can, to take in the moment around you.  That moment is going to be gone far too quickly for anyone’s liking.

It’s not easy.  If anything is easy, it’s probably not worth the effort.

Do not confuse “simple” and “easy”; they are not the same thing.

Yearnings must be answered or they turn to regrets.  Dreams are not to be silenced, just quieted sometimes.  Chasing stars will always land you somewhere you never thought you’d go, though rarely will it put you where you planned to be.

And always always remember to breathe.  No matter what; it’s a quick and easy way to automatically improve whatever situation you may find yourself in.

Not so Sleepy; but pretty Legendary

This afternoon, I was treated to a lovely rollick in a world very near and dear to my heart.  I got to go see the Imaginary Beasts’ Winter Panto, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Sleepy Hollow is what it sounds like, a sleepy little hamlet in Tarrytown, New York, about

modern plaque on "bridge"

modern plaque on “bridge”

forty five minutes away from where I grew up.  Of course, most of us know it exists because of Washington Irving’s very famous bit of pith about the town (historical note: the headless horseman’s bridge has since been lost; there is a bridge in Sleep Hollow, but it’s a modern construction, despite the historical plaque set upon it).

American Pantomime is… really not what it sounds like.  It’s derived from the English form which was a pithy bit of entertainment incorporating music, slapstick, topical references, mild innuendo, etc.  The American form, much like its English cousin, is traditionally performed around Christmas time (the Imaginary Beasts perform one every winter).  Salient to the American form is that it’s plot is based in nursery stories retold on the stage incorporating these elements.

Point of dramaturgical order: do not confuse “pantomime” with “mime”.  They are not the same thing.  The word “pantomime” derives from a Greek construction composed of “pantos” (“every”, or “all”) and “mimos” (“actor” or “imitator”).  The Pantomimos, then, was the “imitator of all” (or, actually, generally troupes of actors who would perform often accompanied by song).  The word “mime” comes from that same Greek word “mimos”, but that’s where the similarities end.  These forms are two very different ducks.

The Beasts adhere to all the old traditions (cross-dressing, modern references, contemporary song, audience participation, and slapstick abound) and, through this, present a rollicking good time made better by the presence of children in the audience.  If you’re willing to bring your own inner child to come play with the Beasts, you will definitely thank yourself for it.

The Beasts also embrace the age-old, time-tested tradition of high comedy: cross-dressing is funny.  I simply couldn’t stop laughing as Joey Pelletier performed a rendition of “Tiptoe through the Tulips” in full Victorian drag.  Nor could I find it in myself to deny this charmer anything he wanted (including a loud “va va va voom!” upon his entrance into any room, as per his request to the audience).  In case you were concerned that this whole “cross-dressing is funny” bit was getting a little one-sided, Jill Ragati proves to be the Ichabod Crane with the most shapely legs I’ve ever seen (and yet, still somehow androgynous… I really can’t explain that one).

I might be biased, but I found the antics of Amy Meyer as Widow Pinchpurse to be miserly hilarious.  In case you never thought you’d laugh at the old “Don’t hit me!” “what?” “HIT ME!” “OKAY!” joke again, you may want to take this opportunity to re-instill yourself with some measure of classic humanity.

As a parting thought I’ll give the Beasts this: they utilized the Scissor Sisters to much greater effect than Glee did.

So do yourself a favor: find a child (or be ready to amp up your inner eight-year-old), and go laugh a little.  It’s a dark gray winter, we can all use some time in the sun.  Ticket and show info can be found here.

Another Openin’, Another Show

This week past was a great theatre-going week for myself and my ever-wonderful partner in crime.  There are some exciting things happening in Boston right now and it has been a pleasure to see some of them.

Pippin at the ART 

The American Repertory Theatre as an institution seems to be undergoing some changes; though no longer a center for the avant-garde (as far as I can tell, this has now been relegated to their secondary venue the Oberon), they still produce some pretty exciting theatre.

Right now on the main stage, you can see a bold new staging of Pippin.

Press Shot for Pippin

Press Shot for Pippin

Alright, alright, it’s Pippin.  Yea, the show itself is about as schmaltzy as they come.  But honestly, what’s life without musical theatre schmaltz?

And this staging really brings something to the text.  Dianne Paulus enlisted the assistance of circus choreographer Gypsy Snider to present a show that’s loaded with spectacle, drenched in theatricality, and definitely somewhere the audience would be tempted to run away to.  The choreography is new, but Chet Walker definitely kept the Fosse feel and there are plenty of shoulder-rolls and arm-fans to go around.

Of course, the show stopper (and show-stealer) occured late in the first act (Andrea Martin’s Berthe gave a performance of “No Time at All” that I am hard pressed to ever forget).  Matthew James Thomas’ Pippin is petulant and angry, wide-eyed and hungry, essentially the perfect blend of youthful optimism and teenaged angst.

The only performance which I found even slight fault in was that of Patina Miller as the leading player.  While Miller is an amazing dancer and her vocals can’t be beat, she lacks the undercurrent of menace that the part requires.  If she were to truly dig and find some semblance of an inner villain, the show would be well near perfect.

The finale lacks some sizzle (I’ve been told due to fire codes, or potentially expense), but really.  What are you going to do with a show that asks you to set people on fire?  From my vantage point second row center, the effect looked cheesy and glitzy (which would have worked had it not been for the plot-point about Pippin ACTUALLY setting himself on fire).  I’ve been told that it doesn’t look as awful from further back in the house.

I’ve also been told that Paulus made the exciting announcement at the show’s opening the other night that it would be making its way to Broadway next.  I am extremely pleased to hear this.  I highly recommend you get out to see it now while tickets are cheap(ish) and the show is local.

Two Gentlemen of Verona by the Actor’s Shakespeare Project

I’ll admit, I didn’t go into this performance with high expectations.  There’s a reason that Two Gents is rarely performed.  Act Five is a nightmare to make read to a modern audience, and the show’s protagonist is one of the least likeable characters in the canon (for further discussion of this, check out our recent podcast about it).

Two Gents promo art

Two Gents promo art

In addition, I’ve never yet heard a good review of an ASP production.  None of my local friends (or mentors) have been impressed with their work, so I did not expect that the combination of these two deadly things would yield anything horribly impressive.

For that, Two Gents is one of my favorite shows and I’ve always wanted to see it done.  Despite myself, I was rather excited to find out what the good folks at ASP had come up with.

First things first: I know Bill Barclay’s work from his long tenure at Shakespeare & Company (some of this while I myself was there training).  The man’s a genius.  His abilities with music are unmatched and it’s always an absolute joy to watch him romp about the stage with his own one-man-band of instruments (in this show alone, you can see him play the guitar, concertina, accordion, ukulele, and harmonica along with an assortment of percussion noise-makers).  I expected the music to be outstanding.

Barclay’s performance was equally impressive.  Protheus is an extremely difficult part to pull off since it requires a wide range of emotion very quickly (he’s one of the least mature men in the canon), and the foreknowledge that the audience is going to hate you.  Barclay’s natural charm and charisma worked to offset this, and his command of the text meant that he got every ounce of emotional connection out of the role.

Unfortunately, he was in the minority.  The women onstage were less impressive – Paige Clark (Julia) went for shtick over emotion, and Miranda Craigwell (Silvia), though stunning, didn’t seem to make any acting choices at all.  Marya Lowry made an excellent gender-bent Duke (Duchess) of Milan, but her Lucetta was frantic and muddy.  This is doubly unfortunate since the women are the true heart of this show; without a deep connection to Julia, the audience has no reason to react to Protheus (though Barclay’s charisma covered a multitude of sin).

The clowning was spectacular.  Thomas Derrah as Speed and John Kuntz as Launce were precise, efficient, and uproarious.  They counter-balanced each other admirably, and entertained thoroughly.  They were aided in this endeavor by Bruno, the most well behaved dog I’ve ever seen, in the role of Crab.  To quote Geoffrey Rush as Philip Henslowe, “You see – comedy. Love, and a bit with a dog. That’s what they want”.

ASP solved the act five fireworks with a game of bardic footsie that I can only describe as “admirable”.  After menacing the outlaws, Protheus turned to Silvia, made his threat, then realized what came out of his mouth.  Disgusted with himself, he dropped his knife, fell to his knees, then wrapped his arms around Silvia’s waist in a pathetic act of self-reproach.  Enter Valentine who sees something more than what he sees (as a lover is wont to do).  For a modern audience, I think this is the only way to make the scene read if you still want to maintain any sense of empathy with Protheus in the end.  It ensures that Protheus remains redeemable without violating the text.

On the whole, this production was charming and enjoyable.  While it lacked substance and true feeling, it did have entertainment value in spades.  I would encourage you to go see it but, alas, it closes today.

ASP will be doing a production of Pericles in April that I, for one, will be extremely interested to see.

A Christmas Rant

With the holidays coming up, I feel the need to put my two cents into the universe about where your hard-earned money should be spent should you decide that purchasing theatre tickets for your loved ones is a worthwhile endeavor.  It totally is, by the by, and if you’re not considering this course of action, maybe you will now.

For those long-term readers, you may recall my rage-inducing trip to the

I know it's that time of year because I got to help put up a Christmas Tree!

I know it’s that time of year because I got to help put up a Christmas Tree!

Harvard Revels last year.  Now that we’ve come full circle (as I write this, I’m sitting in the Houghton Library reading room at Harvard and can see that they’ve once again decorated the square with vibrant twinkling lights), I find myself revisiting this rage every moment I so much as think of the experience, the institution, or the fact that hundreds of people will (once again) flood to this theatrical venue.

So let’s get one thing straight: the Harvard Revels, while it may have started out as a benign force of the community, is currently the most deplorable form of theatrical spectacle.  The travesty that I had the misfortune to witness (and pay WAY too much for) last year should never have been allowed to be birthed into the realm of theatre.  The acting was atrocious, the costuming was spotty at best (there were people wearing PAINTER’S PANTS and SNEAKERS onstage in a PERIOD PIECE), and the institution builds into its traditions a forced standing ovation for every show.  I have never in my life witnessed something more manipulative, more upsetting, and more betraying to its hard-working loyal audience.

And here’s the worst part: because this is a Christmas Tradition for some people, this institution will (once again) have an audience.  Despite putting on a product that I would describe as “an aborted attempt at holiday cheer”, they will once more play to a PACKED HOUSE.  Audiences are so intoxicated by the rosey-hued glasses of Christmas tradition that it will not matter if the Revels had an off year, people will pay anyway.

Because of this, the Revels has no impetus to change.  They will be a commercial success no matter what show they put on.  And that, my friends, is where theatre goes to die.

Okay, I take it back, maybe this is the worst part: this show is the only show that I would venture most of those hundreds of audience members will see in a given year.  That means that their theatre budget is allocated specifically for a show that does not care about them.  This show will be flat, stale, uninspired, and continually produced Christmas schlock until someone does something about it.

Theatre is only interesting and vibrant when it is fighting for its life.  The

...and, for the first time ever, a Christmas Village!  Much more exciting if you consider that this is about ten feet off the ground in a window ledge and required ladder-work to assemble...

…and, for the first time ever, a Christmas Village! Much more exciting if you consider that this is about ten feet off the ground in a window ledge and required ladder-work to assemble…

Revels have not, as far as I can tell, had to do this for decades.  Give them a year scrounging on Community Theatre budget and they will get creative or die.  And from that will be birthed something real, genuine, and amazing to see.

So I beg you.  I implore you.  Do not support this abuse of the name of “theatre”.  If you would like to take your loved ones to see a show, consider one of the many other productions going on in Boston at this time.  Here are just a few…

The ART is producing Pippin (which, I’ve heard, is spectacular and I will be going to see).

A certain Shakespeare company is producing Two Gentleman of Verona and, while I have no particular love for this company, I do love this show.  Support struggling Boston Shakespeare!

The Nora Theatre Company and Underground Railway Theater is producing Arabian Nights which I’ve heard great things about.

The Improv Asylum is doing a Holiday Show if you want something a little more traditional.  They always have great programming (and classes!).

Theatre is a struggling art form.  Your ticket-buying is the life-blood of the struggling company.  Please consider that, while the Revels loom large and ugly, the money spent on their over-priced Holiday travesty could save a small company and create a better theatre community here in Boston.

Just Another Manic Monday

I know that I’ve been doing a lot of lists lately, but finals land is inexorably vast this year… I don’t recall hell-time being this long last year… maybe I’m just wearing my rose-colored denial glasses.

Right now (as in I have actually put work into all of these projects at some point this evening), I am:

 -Doing final prep on my presentation for Thursday. What is life without powerpoint, I ask you?

-Finishing up the grades for one of the classes I’m TAing. Ethically, all I can say about this is that it happened. At some point I will find a way to talk about grading in general enough terms that I don’t feel like I’m betraying confidences. That day is not today. I look forward to that day as I know I have learned a lot from the experience of commenting upon and critiquing the students’ writing, and I feel as though these lessons are universally applicable. When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.

 -Working on the official twitter feed for the Comparative Drama Conference. This

The CDC conference hotel.  I took this shot last year.  Yea, that hotel is pretty sweet.

The CDC conference hotel. I took this shot last year. Yea, that hotel is pretty sweet.

is particularly exciting; by my calculations (if we get the feed up successfully, which is a small if right now but an if nonetheless) it will be the first official twitter feed for a national conference in the humanities. The digital age has officially hit academia, and I can’t be more proud to be one of its heralds. There’s nothing on the feed at this moment (and we’re looking at a few weeks before you see anything exciting happen), but nevertheless go check us out at https://twitter.com/compdramaconf. Give us a follow, keep an eye on us, let us know how we’re doing. Then, when we’re all in Baltimore, we can have a drink and talk about how great the internet is.

 -Working on some dramaturgy bits and bobs for Measure. We’re bracing for impact as we wind up to wind down over the break. I’m headed to rehearsal on Thursday to have a listen to the text and then on Monday, December 10th the cast gives me a full run for my birthday (which, by the by, is December 11th… right smack during the middle of hell-time… I have reconciled myself to the fact that I will, for the rest of my life, be inordinately stressed out on my birthday).

 -Doing final dilly-dallying with outlines and research before I draft out paper number one. I was going to do this tonight, but a Sandy-granted extension gave me a little more wiggle-room on the timeline. I am also waiting on an e-mail from an archivist to see if I can’t do another archive dive to bolster this paper, but plan to forge forward tomorrow one way or another.

PiC and I on a boat this weekend past.  It was his birthday, so we threw tea into Boston harbor.  It seemed legit.

PiC and I on a boat this weekend past. It was his birthday, so we threw tea into Boston harbor. It seemed legit.

-Waiting on a call from my partner in crime to tell me that the first release of Offensive Shadows has gone live. We wrote the copy this afternoon and he’s uploading the sound as we speak, so by the time this is posted it may very well be up. If not, I’ll be updating the twitter feed and the facebook group when things are all green lights over there. Prepare for Shakespeare awesomeness!

-Finishing up some loose-ends classroom business for my own coursework (regular reading, message board posting, etc.). One of the great things about an academic schedule is how fast-paced it is; as soon as you get into a rhythm, or really feel like you know anything about anything, suddenly the world shifts on you. This semester has been great, but I can definitely say that I’m ready for some world-shifting. The projects I’m working on now, however, will definitely stay with me and I’m hoping that they will be extremely fruitful future endeavors. After all, “publication” ain’t just an eleven letter word.

-Setting up and administrating forums for my Shakespeare reading group. Because, like I said, the internet is a wonderful thing.

Alright, since I’ve clocked a solid fourteen hour day, I think I’m putting it down for the night. At least… as soon as the podcast goes live.

Catch you later!