EDITORIAL NOTE: The following review was penned at our request by a contributor. As much as I had hoped to cover Hedwig myself, my own production responsibilities precluded me from being able to do so. Though I did not see the production, it should be noted that the Editor does heartily endorse the content of the review's final paragraph.
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Hedwig and the Angry Inch could easily be called a one man tour-de-force, but it actually takes quite a few people to pull it off. The stage musical, which most people initially encountered as the 2001 John Cameron Mitchell film, follows the rise and fall of Hedwig from “a slip of a girlyboy living in communist East Berlin” to a glamorous transsexual "a internationally ignored" rock sensation.
Chris Blair is truly phenomenal [as Hedwig]. From his lengthy monologues in which he cracks jokes that have been appropriately updated to fit the time and place to his soaring rock vocals, to his climactic meltdown, it is clear that he is one of the finest musical theatre performers Savannah has to offer. The skill at engaging and responding to his audience that made last year's Rocky Horror Show a success is at its finest here.
But as much as Hedwig really is (as one person put it) "The Chris Blair show, staring Chris Blair" he is backed by an incredibly talented team, most notably Valerie Lavelle as Hedwig's husband,Yitzhak. Ms. Lavelle has always been particularly exceptional at staying present in a scene no matter how often she speaks. She is the rare actor who is always interesting to watch while never actually stealing focus. Her vocals are impressive and the moment she shares with Mr. Blair during "The Long Grift" is truly touching (until she spits in his face).
The Angry Inch band is a delight to listen to and watch react. Ryan McCurdy in particular helps keep up the illusion of spontaneity with his genuine reactions to Mr. Blair's performance (including taking a moment after one joke to put his head down on the keyboard while Chris Stanley patted him uncertainly on the shoulder). His solo during "The Long Grift" lacked the clarity that one usually expects from Mr. McCurdy's wonderful voice but that may have been a fault of the song itself. The pre-show provided by The Angry Inch was great fun, allowing all of the band members a chance to sing and Mr. McCurdy and Mr. Stanley in particular a chance to shine. (A sight not unusual to Club One where Mr. Stanley DJs Karaoke on Tuesday and Wednesday nights).
Travis Coles fits the role of Tommy Gnosis well, though much of what he was actually saying during his reprise of "Wicked Town" was lost. And that is unfortunately the greatest weakness of the show as a whole. The songs sound great and have a great energy but even Mr. Blair occasionally falls victim to the lyrics being more sound than words. Fortunately the story (for the most part) holds up without them, but one has to wonder if we as the audience aren't missing out on something. Whether the fault for this lies in the writing of the music or the production of the sound can be hard to tell. The performers, however, all seem to be giving it their all.
The costumes are pitch perfect and the slides for the most part are used very well. The space is well used, particularly for the "off stage" characters. The one moment of staging that felt contrived involved Ms. Lavelle's Yitzhak playing with a wig and a hand mirror on a table stage left. The symbolism of the wig did become apparent but I kept expecting the wig itself to be used since there really didn't seem to be any reason for it to be there. The director's work should rarely call attention to itself and here Bridget Tunstall has captured the illusion that she simply cast the right people and then stayed out of their way.
Since this was the inaugural event of a new venue and a new company, we here at the Savannah Dramaturgy would be remiss if we did not examine for a moment what this production means for the ever shifting Savannah Theatre scene. The Bay Street Theatre is a wonderful idea, but as good as this production was, as a choice of show it strays no further from the image of the Club One Cabaret than their second theatrical offering, The Rocky Horror Show, which opens at the end of next month. This is not necessarily a problem, but it will be interesting to see what happens when and if the Bay Street Theatre attempts to diversify their productions beyond shows that feature the fabulous Mr. Blair in heels. And it is important to note that these two shows are being produced by separate companies. But the venue itself will eventually have to define what audience it seeks and what it hopes to become.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
And for the Pocketbook Naysayers
For all those would-be arts advocates out there:
As opposed to trying to slog through the entirety of Americans for the Arts latest arts impact study, the good folks at the blog createquity.com have not only provided an excellent analysis, but also an effective summary of that analysis.
The analysis can be had here.
The summary can be found here.
As opposed to trying to slog through the entirety of Americans for the Arts latest arts impact study, the good folks at the blog createquity.com have not only provided an excellent analysis, but also an effective summary of that analysis.
The analysis can be had here.
The summary can be found here.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Open the Gates!
Recently, while perusing the latest issue of Arts Update from Americans for the Arts, I found this interesting link from an Australian publication known as The Age.
It simply reinforces a great deal of what we have been getting at here at The Savannah Dramaturgy, and thought that it was worth a read. It can be had here.
It simply reinforces a great deal of what we have been getting at here at The Savannah Dramaturgy, and thought that it was worth a read. It can be had here.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Banned from the Polis: The Poetic Citizen
If you consider, I said, that when in misfortune we feel a natural hunger and desire to relieve our sorrow by weeping and lamentation, and that this feeling which is kept under control in our own calamities is satisfied and delighted by the poets;--the better nature in each of us, not having been sufficiently trained by reason or habit, allows the sympathetic element to break loose because the sorrow is another's; and the spectator fancies that there can be no disgrace to himself in praising and pitying any one who comes telling him what a good man he is, and making a fuss about his troubles; he thinks that the pleasure is a gain, and why should he be supercilious and lose this and the poem too? Few persons ever reflect, as I should imagine, that from the evil of other men something of evil is communicated to themselves. And so the feeling of sorrow which has gathered strength at the sight of the misfortunes of others is with difficulty repressed in our own.--From Plato's Republic Book X (Benjamin Jowett Trans.)
[...]
And does not the same hold also of the ridiculous? There are jests which you would be ashamed to make yourself, and yet on the comic stage, or indeed in private, when you hear them, you are greatly amused by them, and are not at all disgusted at their unseemliness;--the case of pity is repeated;--there is a principle in human nature which is disposed to raise a laugh, and this which you once restrained by reason, because you were afraid of being thought a buffoon, is now let out again; and having stimulated the risible faculty at the theatre, you are betrayed unconsciously to yourself into playing the comic poet at home.
[...]
And the same may be said of lust and anger and all the other affections, of desire and pain and pleasure, which are held to be inseparable from every action--in all of them poetry feeds and waters the passions instead of drying them up; she lets them rule, although they ought to be controlled, if mankind are ever to increase in happiness and virtue.
In regards to politics, and the best way of life, there is an ancient quarrel between philosophy and poetry, which thereby leads Plato to banish all such poets from his famous "city in speech." Along with his Symposium, Plato's Republic acknowledges the power that poets (particularly those such as the thespians Aristophanes and Agathon) have over the wills and opinions of their fellow men. Given this power, it should come as no surprise that Socrates sends them packing.
This poses an interesting question in regards to an open and democratic society. If one accepts the argument regarding the powers of the Poet, can one accept a particular segment of society having this level of unaccounted sway over the habits and opinions of others? Indeed, the reasoning of Plato seems to present one of the most dangerous forces in an open society, unless it is properly channeled.
To paraphrase a far more populist American philosopher, Spiderman, there is the idea that with great power comes great responsibility. As such, perhaps it would behoove the artistic community to follow this parabasis put forth by the great comedian Aristophanes:
Never since our poet presented Comedies, has he praised himself upon the stage; but, having been slandered by his enemies amongst the volatile Athenians, accused of scoffing at his country and of insulting the people, to-day he wishes to reply and regain for himself the inconstant Athenians. He maintains that he has done much that is good for you; if you no longer allow yourselves to be too much hoodwinked by strangers or seduced by flattery, if in politics you are no longer the ninnies you once were, it is thanks to him. Formerly, when delegates from other cities wanted to deceive you, they had but to style you, "the people crowned with violets," and, at the word "violets" you at once sat erect on the tips of your bums. Or, if to tickle your vanity, someone spoke of "rich and sleek Athens," in return for that 'sleekness' he would get all, because he spoke of you as he would have of anchovies in oil. In cautioning you against such wiles, the poet has done you great service as well as in forcing you to understand what is really the democratic principle. Thus, the strangers, who came to pay their tributes, wanted to see this great poet, who had dared to speak the truth to Athens. And so far has the fame of his boldness reached that one day the Great King, when questioning the Lacedaemonian delegates, first asked them which of the two rival cities was the superior at sea, and then immediately demanded at which it was that the comic poet directed his biting satire. "Happy that city," he added, "if it listens to his counsel; it will grow in power, and its victory is assured." This is why the Lacedaemonians offer you peace, if you will cede them Aegina; not that they care for the isle, but they wish to rob you of your poet. As for you, never lose him, who will always fight for the cause of justice in his Comedies; he promises you that his precepts will lead you to happiness, though he uses neither flattery, nor bribery, nor intrigue, nor deceit; instead of loading you with praise, he will point you to the better way. I scoff at Cleon's tricks and plotting; honesty and justice shall fight my cause; never will you find me a political poltroon, a prostitute to the highest bidder.--From Aristophanes The Acharnians
Thus, artists must ask themselves the important question of how should they go about using their influence and gifts. Aristophanes would have one employ them in the pursuit of social justice and the overall good.
Yet this assumes that there is such an entity as the Poetic Citizen, and that there is such a level of authority to be exercised. It elevates the poet or artist somewhat out of the citizenry, enshrining them as something special.
This does not quite seem to mesh with the realities of artistic life. While such might be the case of the cosseted faculty of the Tisch School and their performance art, the more average thespian must actually live within the society they are, at times, charged to protect. Given this, I posit the idea of the citizen poet, who plies his (or her) trade but is heavily affected by the surrounding society. The theatre's reliance on the good graces of the audience to remain not only in business, but also in existence adds new dimension to the Audience/Poet power relationship. As de Tocqueville pointed out, the theatre is highly democratized due to its need for social support.
Thus, to relate this (however tenuously) back to the "Beautiful Process" of Community-based dramaturgy, the citizen poet must be malleable to bring in the audience, only to then turn and give them a dose of what is good in the Aristophanes tradition given the powers that Plato posited. Indeed, coming to a complete understanding of this flexible power differential, may be the most demanding dramaturgical task facing thespians in the 21st century.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Beautiful Process: Towards a Dramaturgy of Community
In his Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Mankind, Friedrich Schiller once wrote that humans, as higher animals, are capable "of a disinterested and unconditional appreciation of pure semblance." Essentially, one of the things that Schiller points to as the difference between humans and animals is a certain level of aesthetic appreciation.
To paraphrase Denis Dutton's 1990 address to the Russian Institute of Aesthetics, humanity reaches a higher form of being once it becomes more interested in the carved handle to a knife becomes more important than the knife itself and the cutting properties thereof. Indeed, we have only become truly human when were prefer a semblance of the material as opposed tot he gross material world itself.
And yet, particularly when one begins to think about the ramifications of this, one cannot help but begin to shy away from what this is saying. Theatre cannot simply be disinterested in the community around it! Unlike many arts, we not only exist within our surrounding communities but are fully reliant upon them! We must reject Schiller's (and Kant's) notion of disinterested watching and take an active interest in the effects our work have in our cities and towns.
This leads me to posit the idea of a beautiful process, by where our theatrical dramaturgy, our producing organizations, theatres, and thespians begin to actively and aggressively engage with the community in order to accomplish things that are not only aesthetically pleasing, but also good in and of themselves.
A recent article in The Review talks about the relationship between the modern theatre and the dramaturg. It can be found here(page 8). I would submit that our theatres should enjoy a similar relationship to what Ms. Kaplan wants dramaturgs to have with their theatres. "I’m here because I have something you need and you have something I want. It’s an honest exchange."
Whether our communities know it or not, we have something they need. We have the transformative power of performance and the incandescent characters of the Western Dramatic tradition. We have stories that can never really die because they are far too ingrained in the collective psyche. On top of that, we tell our stories in a way that cannot be denied.
Let us throw open the doors, let us embrace those outside of them. It goes beyond simple marketing and selling tickets, it is the Beautiful Process of Community-based Dramaturgy.
To paraphrase Denis Dutton's 1990 address to the Russian Institute of Aesthetics, humanity reaches a higher form of being once it becomes more interested in the carved handle to a knife becomes more important than the knife itself and the cutting properties thereof. Indeed, we have only become truly human when were prefer a semblance of the material as opposed tot he gross material world itself.
And yet, particularly when one begins to think about the ramifications of this, one cannot help but begin to shy away from what this is saying. Theatre cannot simply be disinterested in the community around it! Unlike many arts, we not only exist within our surrounding communities but are fully reliant upon them! We must reject Schiller's (and Kant's) notion of disinterested watching and take an active interest in the effects our work have in our cities and towns.
This leads me to posit the idea of a beautiful process, by where our theatrical dramaturgy, our producing organizations, theatres, and thespians begin to actively and aggressively engage with the community in order to accomplish things that are not only aesthetically pleasing, but also good in and of themselves.
A recent article in The Review talks about the relationship between the modern theatre and the dramaturg. It can be found here(page 8). I would submit that our theatres should enjoy a similar relationship to what Ms. Kaplan wants dramaturgs to have with their theatres. "I’m here because I have something you need and you have something I want. It’s an honest exchange."
Whether our communities know it or not, we have something they need. We have the transformative power of performance and the incandescent characters of the Western Dramatic tradition. We have stories that can never really die because they are far too ingrained in the collective psyche. On top of that, we tell our stories in a way that cannot be denied.
Let us throw open the doors, let us embrace those outside of them. It goes beyond simple marketing and selling tickets, it is the Beautiful Process of Community-based Dramaturgy.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Staving off the Wolves: The Development of Local Theatre, Even in Times of Trouble
When one turns on the radio or television news, one cannot escape news of the "economic crisis," "the slowdown," or any other euphemism that is being used for the economic troubles currently facing the United States and world at large. And, almost as widespread, are the continual lamentations that the arts have been one of the primary sufferers (see this piece in the Miami Herald: Why the arts matter...)
Bitterness about how entire arts organizations have budgets smaller than particular television celebrities aside, it really is a difficult pill for artists to swallow that that beloved disciplines are on the chopping block. And while it is fairly easy to snark and snipe about banks and investment houses sinking things, responsible artists must also realize that it is incumbent upon an arts community to help support and sustain itself, particularly when times are tough.
The real value of a healthy artistic community, aside from certain demonstrated economic values and upward pressure on a city's Q.O.L. index, is also the opportunity for related civic engagement. Harvard-based political scientist Robert Putnam opined in his book Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community that activities such as bowling leauges, community enrichment courses, and (though not mentioned explicitly but hinted at on page 96 of the paperback edition) community-based theatres provide an optimal outlet for civic education and engagement by the average citizen. There is a real opportunity to build social capital in the arts.
Extended through Putnam's arguments are the ideas that there are two forms of such capital: bridging and bonding. The latter is the building of connections between demographically similar people. While this is natural and inevitable, there is also a need for bridging capital, where connections are built between demographically dissimilar people. Huntington further illustrates that these forms actually do build off one another, to the benefit of all. As such, we at the Savannah Dramaturgy cannot help but applaud recent productions such as Savannah Cultural Arts Theatre's production of The Wiz, which spanned demographics while also helping to consecrate a love of musical theatre. We cannot help but think that Dr. Putnam would also approve.
In essence, there is a responsibility on the part of an arts organization to engage with their audience in order to ensure their continued ability to grow. New York University Professor Richard Schechner outlines two different types of audience in his book Performance Theory. The first, and possibly most "normal" audience is the accidental audience. This is a potential audience member who has seen some advertising, or heard about a show, and decides to come and see. The other form is something known as an integral audience, and audience who is, in some form, a part of the event and somewhat compelled or obligated to come. In this case, active coercion is not the case, but instead the fact that the audience in question is integral to the event... they are somehow part of it. Work by our local arts groups should truly focus on cultivating this particular sector of people.
To draw from another discipline, that of historic interpretation, the key is to build a desire for stewardship. Freeman Tilden, in his book Interpreting Our Heritage, writes that interpretation is an art form with an eye towards inspiring a sense of ownership in the casual visitor. Though, in the case of Tilden, he speaks of National Parks, Memorials, and their ilk, the same holds true for our community-based theatres. The establishment of a sense of communal ownership, "This belongs to us and we belong to it," is one very real path to take in times when the dollar is tight.
Perhaps the heart of the matter is best summed up by local actor Darwin Hull in his rallying cry, "Support local awesome." The road runs, in essence, two ways. Support must be local, because otherwise the sense of stewardship can only be felt and exercised in the most abstract of terms. Further, the local product must be of quality (the "awesome" part), and must engage the audience.
Though our sympathies here at The Savannah Dramaturgy are most definitely with those arts organizations struggling to make ends meet, we cannot help but point out that there is obligation on all ends. Comparison, such as that made in the above Herald article, between Ryan Seacrest and a local dance company is, unfortunately, akin to comparing apples with baby goats. Solutions for locally-based groups must be developed locally, whereas Mr. Seacrest or Goldman Sachs simply exists on another plane alotgether.
Support LOCAL Awesome, Create LOCAL Awesome. It can be done, and is probably the best route to success.
EDITORIAL BULLETIN:
Shortly after finishing this editorial, I stumbled across this post on Douglas McLennan's blog, Diacritical. It talks about the importance of community here in the "Attention Economy." The message is much the same, but with a tack more closely related to straight economics.
Bitterness about how entire arts organizations have budgets smaller than particular television celebrities aside, it really is a difficult pill for artists to swallow that that beloved disciplines are on the chopping block. And while it is fairly easy to snark and snipe about banks and investment houses sinking things, responsible artists must also realize that it is incumbent upon an arts community to help support and sustain itself, particularly when times are tough.
The real value of a healthy artistic community, aside from certain demonstrated economic values and upward pressure on a city's Q.O.L. index, is also the opportunity for related civic engagement. Harvard-based political scientist Robert Putnam opined in his book Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community that activities such as bowling leauges, community enrichment courses, and (though not mentioned explicitly but hinted at on page 96 of the paperback edition) community-based theatres provide an optimal outlet for civic education and engagement by the average citizen. There is a real opportunity to build social capital in the arts.
Extended through Putnam's arguments are the ideas that there are two forms of such capital: bridging and bonding. The latter is the building of connections between demographically similar people. While this is natural and inevitable, there is also a need for bridging capital, where connections are built between demographically dissimilar people. Huntington further illustrates that these forms actually do build off one another, to the benefit of all. As such, we at the Savannah Dramaturgy cannot help but applaud recent productions such as Savannah Cultural Arts Theatre's production of The Wiz, which spanned demographics while also helping to consecrate a love of musical theatre. We cannot help but think that Dr. Putnam would also approve.
In essence, there is a responsibility on the part of an arts organization to engage with their audience in order to ensure their continued ability to grow. New York University Professor Richard Schechner outlines two different types of audience in his book Performance Theory. The first, and possibly most "normal" audience is the accidental audience. This is a potential audience member who has seen some advertising, or heard about a show, and decides to come and see. The other form is something known as an integral audience, and audience who is, in some form, a part of the event and somewhat compelled or obligated to come. In this case, active coercion is not the case, but instead the fact that the audience in question is integral to the event... they are somehow part of it. Work by our local arts groups should truly focus on cultivating this particular sector of people.
To draw from another discipline, that of historic interpretation, the key is to build a desire for stewardship. Freeman Tilden, in his book Interpreting Our Heritage, writes that interpretation is an art form with an eye towards inspiring a sense of ownership in the casual visitor. Though, in the case of Tilden, he speaks of National Parks, Memorials, and their ilk, the same holds true for our community-based theatres. The establishment of a sense of communal ownership, "This belongs to us and we belong to it," is one very real path to take in times when the dollar is tight.
Perhaps the heart of the matter is best summed up by local actor Darwin Hull in his rallying cry, "Support local awesome." The road runs, in essence, two ways. Support must be local, because otherwise the sense of stewardship can only be felt and exercised in the most abstract of terms. Further, the local product must be of quality (the "awesome" part), and must engage the audience.
Though our sympathies here at The Savannah Dramaturgy are most definitely with those arts organizations struggling to make ends meet, we cannot help but point out that there is obligation on all ends. Comparison, such as that made in the above Herald article, between Ryan Seacrest and a local dance company is, unfortunately, akin to comparing apples with baby goats. Solutions for locally-based groups must be developed locally, whereas Mr. Seacrest or Goldman Sachs simply exists on another plane alotgether.
Support LOCAL Awesome, Create LOCAL Awesome. It can be done, and is probably the best route to success.
EDITORIAL BULLETIN:
Shortly after finishing this editorial, I stumbled across this post on Douglas McLennan's blog, Diacritical. It talks about the importance of community here in the "Attention Economy." The message is much the same, but with a tack more closely related to straight economics.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Urinetown - The Little Theatre of Savannah
With the summer bearing down, how better to spend your evening than with a night of musical splendor? You, ladies and gents, are in luck, because The Little Theatre of Savannah is offering just such an event: Kotis and Hollmann's Urinetown.
Set in a dark future of drought and fear, Urinetown follows both sides of a world where one must pay for the most basic human need: the need to use the bathroom. On one side we have Bobby Strong (Ryan McCurdy), an optimistic young man with a desire to change the world around him. On the other side, we have Caldwell B. Cladwell (Les Taylor), the bigwig in charge of the corporation responsible for charging for the world with the fee to pee. Somewhere in between is Hope Cladwell (Courtney Lane), torn between impressing her father and following her heart.
Right off the bat we are informed that this will not be a "happy musical". This is absolutely true. However, that doesn't mean that Urinetown isn't an incredible show. In fact, it is one of the most entertaining shows that the Little Theatre of Savannah had ever put on. Director Jeffrey DeVincent has shaped a show as disarming and engaging as Savannah has yet seen. The cast is a well-oiled machine, utilizing some of the finest talent that Savannah has to offer.
No one in Urinetown is expendable, but it was hard to take ones eyes off of many of its players. Ryan McCurdy and Courtney Lane have outstanding presence (not to mention singing chops) as the show's young lovers. As Officer Lockstock, Eric Kildow is a magnificent narrator, and his chemistry with fellow Officer Barrel (Darwin Hull) is hysterical. Balancing wonderfully with our narrator as Little Sally is Clare H. Ward. And what musical would be complete without a villain? Les Taylor absolutely steals the show as Caldwell B. Cladwell. Indeed, it is difficult to focus on anyone else when he takes the stage.
Urinetown reminds us that Savannah not only needs fun musicals, but unique ones. And Urinetown fits the bill. The Savannah Dramaturgy can only hope that future productions match it for both talent and memorability.
Set in a dark future of drought and fear, Urinetown follows both sides of a world where one must pay for the most basic human need: the need to use the bathroom. On one side we have Bobby Strong (Ryan McCurdy), an optimistic young man with a desire to change the world around him. On the other side, we have Caldwell B. Cladwell (Les Taylor), the bigwig in charge of the corporation responsible for charging for the world with the fee to pee. Somewhere in between is Hope Cladwell (Courtney Lane), torn between impressing her father and following her heart.
Right off the bat we are informed that this will not be a "happy musical". This is absolutely true. However, that doesn't mean that Urinetown isn't an incredible show. In fact, it is one of the most entertaining shows that the Little Theatre of Savannah had ever put on. Director Jeffrey DeVincent has shaped a show as disarming and engaging as Savannah has yet seen. The cast is a well-oiled machine, utilizing some of the finest talent that Savannah has to offer.
No one in Urinetown is expendable, but it was hard to take ones eyes off of many of its players. Ryan McCurdy and Courtney Lane have outstanding presence (not to mention singing chops) as the show's young lovers. As Officer Lockstock, Eric Kildow is a magnificent narrator, and his chemistry with fellow Officer Barrel (Darwin Hull) is hysterical. Balancing wonderfully with our narrator as Little Sally is Clare H. Ward. And what musical would be complete without a villain? Les Taylor absolutely steals the show as Caldwell B. Cladwell. Indeed, it is difficult to focus on anyone else when he takes the stage.
Urinetown reminds us that Savannah not only needs fun musicals, but unique ones. And Urinetown fits the bill. The Savannah Dramaturgy can only hope that future productions match it for both talent and memorability.
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