The holiday spirit descended upon Savannah a little early this year, much to the joy of each of its beneficiaries. "So This is Christmas," the Cardinal Rep Christmas program, is truly a gift under the tree this season.
For lack of better terminology, one can call this work a music revue... or perhaps something of a cabaret. But no matter what tag it bears, it is a great deal of fun. Ryan McCurdy uses his extensive musical talents on pieces ranging from A Nightmar Before Christmas, Vince Guaraldi's Peanuts Themes, and Christmas in Sarajevo from the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Backed up by various members of the Cardinal Rep family, the evening reaches heights of true Christmas joy.
Valerie Lavelle begins the evening by outlining other holiday offerings, panning numerous elementary school pageants with the sort of gusto all theatre critics wished they had. Sheila Lynne provides an entertainingly depressing rendition of Frosty the Snowman, and Phil Keeling not only plays guitar ably, but is delightfully disturbing in his turn as grandmother Christmas.
But more importantly, this is an evening "with the Cardinal Rep family." Given that this is embraced, it lends a very tribal and inclusive feel that has marked Cardinal Rep's best work. Indeed, the only criticism falls on the calendar... that we will be waiting another year for the next holiday evening with the Cardinal Rep Family.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Doubt: A Parable: Cardinal Rep
"What do you do when you are not sure?" This question begins John Patrick Shanley's Pulitzer and Tony Award-winning powerhouse Doubt: A Parable. It is a good question, one that resonates through Shanley's writing. However, Cardinal Rep's production of Doubt: A Parable, closing their 2008 season under the direction of Ms. Sheila Lynne, essentially answers this and any other question the audience might have.
Centered on the issue of ecclesiastical pedophilia, Doubt: A Parable tells the story of one Father Flynn, who is suspected of sexual misconduct with one of the parish altar boys. Perhaps one of the greatest strengths of Shanley's writing in this case is that he is remarkably evenhanded. Given the 2004/2005 writing and performance history of the show, coming during one of the major upswings in a longstanding issue (John Geoghan, a defrocked priest and convicted molester, had been killed in prison in 2003, and Paul Shanley was convicted in 2005), it would be all too easy to grind Father Flynn beneath a literary boot. However, Mr. Shanley's writing manages to present each character's point of view reasonably... thereby keeping doubt, and Doubt, very much alive.
However, as stated earlier, this production has the unfortunate auspice of answering the questions all too clearly. Father Flynn (played by Mark Rand), is immenently likeable and immenently wronged by a crusading Sister Aloysius (played by Dandy Barrett). However, instead of a righteous avenging angel, Ms. Barrett comes across as a crushing steamroller, obliviously trampling not only Father Flynn, but any who cross her path. And herein lies one of the central rubs of this production, the audience is not convinced that Sister Aloysius is acting in good faith. Instead, she often comes across as a hellbound version of the No Child Left Behind statute made into flesh and sewn into a wimple.
Despite this, there is ample opportunity to continue to raise doubts. When Sister Aloysius interviews the boy in question's mother, Mrs. Muller (played by Lakesha Green), the issue arises that the boy himself might be gay, and that Father Flynn, as opposed to preying on him, is simply reaching out. If this idea could properly been given wings and lofted, there might then have been doubts on the part of the audience. However, Ms. Green utterly fails to provide the needed thrust and simply comes across as putting forth absurdity in order to dodge a meeting with her son's school principal.
Thus, one should not only have doubts, but should be fully immersed in them. Is Father Flynn a predator? Is father Flynn even remotely well-meaning? Is the Muller boy in need of an understanding hand because of his sexual orientation? And yet, Ms. Lynne's interpretation either clearly answers the questions, or fails to put them forward for consideration. The result is ultimately unsatisfying.
Which brings us, in passing, to other issues. The satisfaction of a theatrical community, the ability to be involved in work, is important. And the fact that this show was simply pre-cast, and filled out without the benefit of auditions, does not sit well. In the building of a theatrical community, the need for engagement with artists is required. Simply not holding auditions sends a very clear message that one is not interested in the possible input of others. While it is no sin to have a cast in mind, auditions must still be held, if only for the sake of appearance. Otherwise, there is a very clear message of elitism... one that exacerbates this production's inability to deliver. And there are some very real, practical reasons for auditions to be held. Cardinal Rep stalwart, Valerie Lavelle, turned in an uncharacteristically flat performance as Sister James. While the role is ouside of her usual repertoir, is is not outside of her ability. However, Ms. Lavelle has also been wildly overworked recently. Auditions may very well have helped find somebody as capable and better rested.
Further, theatre today must engage with its audience, and violation of the audience/show conventions must be undertaken with great care. Baz Kershaw wrote in Modern Drama of a very real expectation on the part of the audience during the curtain call. Indeed, the expectation of being able to honestly thank the cast, and have them accept those thanks, does much to build goodwill. The use of a "tableux curtain call" in this production smacks of a certain disregard for the audience. Indeed, the same was done in Ms. Lynne's production of McDonagh's The Pillowman with the same ungrateful effect. In an attempt to seem edgy, or stylish, the audience is distanced. That distance is not something that the Savannah theatre community can easily afford, and it may be that Ms. Lynne is spending on credit.
However, this production does manage to find some bright points. Mr. Rand is truly moving as the infinitely likeable and utterly wronged Father Flynn. Indeed, much satisfaction that is lost in the overall interpretation is fished back out by Mr. Rand in terms of sheer enjoyment during his sermons and lectures. Ms. Lavelle, though she does not manage to hit the "forbidden fruit" tone in her uncertainty each time, plays the pupil to Ms. Barrett's mistress effectively. However, in a textually driven piece like Doubt: A Parable, solid likeability by the actors, and a will to like it from the audience, is insufficient.
Centered on the issue of ecclesiastical pedophilia, Doubt: A Parable tells the story of one Father Flynn, who is suspected of sexual misconduct with one of the parish altar boys. Perhaps one of the greatest strengths of Shanley's writing in this case is that he is remarkably evenhanded. Given the 2004/2005 writing and performance history of the show, coming during one of the major upswings in a longstanding issue (John Geoghan, a defrocked priest and convicted molester, had been killed in prison in 2003, and Paul Shanley was convicted in 2005), it would be all too easy to grind Father Flynn beneath a literary boot. However, Mr. Shanley's writing manages to present each character's point of view reasonably... thereby keeping doubt, and Doubt, very much alive.
However, as stated earlier, this production has the unfortunate auspice of answering the questions all too clearly. Father Flynn (played by Mark Rand), is immenently likeable and immenently wronged by a crusading Sister Aloysius (played by Dandy Barrett). However, instead of a righteous avenging angel, Ms. Barrett comes across as a crushing steamroller, obliviously trampling not only Father Flynn, but any who cross her path. And herein lies one of the central rubs of this production, the audience is not convinced that Sister Aloysius is acting in good faith. Instead, she often comes across as a hellbound version of the No Child Left Behind statute made into flesh and sewn into a wimple.
Despite this, there is ample opportunity to continue to raise doubts. When Sister Aloysius interviews the boy in question's mother, Mrs. Muller (played by Lakesha Green), the issue arises that the boy himself might be gay, and that Father Flynn, as opposed to preying on him, is simply reaching out. If this idea could properly been given wings and lofted, there might then have been doubts on the part of the audience. However, Ms. Green utterly fails to provide the needed thrust and simply comes across as putting forth absurdity in order to dodge a meeting with her son's school principal.
Thus, one should not only have doubts, but should be fully immersed in them. Is Father Flynn a predator? Is father Flynn even remotely well-meaning? Is the Muller boy in need of an understanding hand because of his sexual orientation? And yet, Ms. Lynne's interpretation either clearly answers the questions, or fails to put them forward for consideration. The result is ultimately unsatisfying.
Which brings us, in passing, to other issues. The satisfaction of a theatrical community, the ability to be involved in work, is important. And the fact that this show was simply pre-cast, and filled out without the benefit of auditions, does not sit well. In the building of a theatrical community, the need for engagement with artists is required. Simply not holding auditions sends a very clear message that one is not interested in the possible input of others. While it is no sin to have a cast in mind, auditions must still be held, if only for the sake of appearance. Otherwise, there is a very clear message of elitism... one that exacerbates this production's inability to deliver. And there are some very real, practical reasons for auditions to be held. Cardinal Rep stalwart, Valerie Lavelle, turned in an uncharacteristically flat performance as Sister James. While the role is ouside of her usual repertoir, is is not outside of her ability. However, Ms. Lavelle has also been wildly overworked recently. Auditions may very well have helped find somebody as capable and better rested.
Further, theatre today must engage with its audience, and violation of the audience/show conventions must be undertaken with great care. Baz Kershaw wrote in Modern Drama of a very real expectation on the part of the audience during the curtain call. Indeed, the expectation of being able to honestly thank the cast, and have them accept those thanks, does much to build goodwill. The use of a "tableux curtain call" in this production smacks of a certain disregard for the audience. Indeed, the same was done in Ms. Lynne's production of McDonagh's The Pillowman with the same ungrateful effect. In an attempt to seem edgy, or stylish, the audience is distanced. That distance is not something that the Savannah theatre community can easily afford, and it may be that Ms. Lynne is spending on credit.
However, this production does manage to find some bright points. Mr. Rand is truly moving as the infinitely likeable and utterly wronged Father Flynn. Indeed, much satisfaction that is lost in the overall interpretation is fished back out by Mr. Rand in terms of sheer enjoyment during his sermons and lectures. Ms. Lavelle, though she does not manage to hit the "forbidden fruit" tone in her uncertainty each time, plays the pupil to Ms. Barrett's mistress effectively. However, in a textually driven piece like Doubt: A Parable, solid likeability by the actors, and a will to like it from the audience, is insufficient.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wait Until Dark: Little Theatre of Savannah
Wait Until Dark, The Little Theatre of Savannah's latest melodrama, manages to present a mixed bag for the spectator in its November 13-30, 2008 run at the Freight Station Theatre. The script, adapted for the screen in 1967 by Robert Carrington, is a veritable danse macabre of menace, though the cast has difficulty at times finding where the true menace lies.
The story, revolving around a recently blinded young woman, follows a trio of con men in their attempts to retrieve a heroin stuffed doll from the apartment this young woman shares with her photographer husband. The story twists a torturous path where Sam is slowly implicated in smuggling and marital infidelity, until the con is finally discovered and the thugs must resort to sheer force.
The cons Mike (Justin Kent) and Carlino (Phil Keeling) are, much in the way of confidence artists, quite likeable in their own way. Indeed, there is something of Laurel and Hardy or the Three Stooges in their relationship. Their main shortfalling is that they simply do not go far enough. Scenes that could truly relieve audience tension through a bit of laughten tend to fall short, as the schtick is neglected. While it could be raised to almost monumental heights, a la Noises Off, it fails to fully please. Instead, one has two likeable men caught, essentially, in a bad situation.
If Mr. Kent and Mr. Keeling do not paint their characters with broad strokes, the role of Harry Roat Jr. (Giles Gonnsen) stepped straight out of Hannah-Barbara's animation studios. Mr. Gonnsen has, unfortunately, reduced Mr. Roat from a frightening killer to a simple pop-culture meme. If Heath Ledger's Joker from The Dark Knight had stolen Peter Seller's sunglasses from Dr. Strangelove, one would then have an accurate picture of Mr. Gonnsen's performance. While possibly a great deal of fun, wearing monstrosity so clearly on one's sleeve ultimately robs the piece of menace. Had this role been played straighter (think Hannibal Lecter) then greater vistas of frightening depravity could have been opened in the playing of Roat. Instead, as one already knows where the beast lies, Roat is surpassed in creepiness by the lurking, nine-year-old Gloria (Kasey Siebert).
Acting honours for the evening go to Ms. Rachel Herrick in her performance of Susy Hendrix. Ms. Herrick manages a nearly convincing performance as the blind Mrs. Hendrix. Given the difficulty of playing disability, particularly one so keyed as sight, Ms. Herrick's performance manages to succeed in simply not distracting, though it manages much more. Darwin Hull, as Sam Hendrix, puts in a brief but amiable appearance that recalls a sentimentalized Lee Cobb from Death of a Salesman.
The cast, under the direction of Savannah theatrical veteran Christopher Soucy, primarily undershoot the mark, barring some exception. Given certain personnel issues throughout the rehearsal process, the cast has managed to put together an engaging show.
The set (designed by Jeroy Hannah) is an effective and spacious use of the Freight Station's sometimes limited square footage. However, the tone is truly set by the lighting (designed by director Christopher Soucy), oddly enough for a play about darkness. Mr. Soucy's choice of a brilliant, hard edged lamp for his house light helped to set the tone by bathing the waiting audience in harsh, white light.
Though Wait Until Dark is not without its shortcomings, Mr. Knott asks us to simply swallow a Byzantine con game extending to Montreal and tosses in Roat with almost no explanation as to his origins into the story, while the cast at times misses the opportunity to truly terrify, The Little Theatre of Savannah manages to put together an engaging evening of theatre.
Though the drawbacks and limitations of community theatre are a common, recurring theme here in The Savannah Dramaturgy, there is still an expectation of goodwill and excellence. Perhaps the most disturbing moment of the evening comes when this author is apologized to by multiple departing cast members. Such behavior is not only ungracious, but it also indicates to an audience member that their appreciation is unplaced and that absolution is desired. Given Savannah theatre's already limited resources, we cannot afford to lose goodwill, quite simply.
The story, revolving around a recently blinded young woman, follows a trio of con men in their attempts to retrieve a heroin stuffed doll from the apartment this young woman shares with her photographer husband. The story twists a torturous path where Sam is slowly implicated in smuggling and marital infidelity, until the con is finally discovered and the thugs must resort to sheer force.
The cons Mike (Justin Kent) and Carlino (Phil Keeling) are, much in the way of confidence artists, quite likeable in their own way. Indeed, there is something of Laurel and Hardy or the Three Stooges in their relationship. Their main shortfalling is that they simply do not go far enough. Scenes that could truly relieve audience tension through a bit of laughten tend to fall short, as the schtick is neglected. While it could be raised to almost monumental heights, a la Noises Off, it fails to fully please. Instead, one has two likeable men caught, essentially, in a bad situation.
If Mr. Kent and Mr. Keeling do not paint their characters with broad strokes, the role of Harry Roat Jr. (Giles Gonnsen) stepped straight out of Hannah-Barbara's animation studios. Mr. Gonnsen has, unfortunately, reduced Mr. Roat from a frightening killer to a simple pop-culture meme. If Heath Ledger's Joker from The Dark Knight had stolen Peter Seller's sunglasses from Dr. Strangelove, one would then have an accurate picture of Mr. Gonnsen's performance. While possibly a great deal of fun, wearing monstrosity so clearly on one's sleeve ultimately robs the piece of menace. Had this role been played straighter (think Hannibal Lecter) then greater vistas of frightening depravity could have been opened in the playing of Roat. Instead, as one already knows where the beast lies, Roat is surpassed in creepiness by the lurking, nine-year-old Gloria (Kasey Siebert).
Acting honours for the evening go to Ms. Rachel Herrick in her performance of Susy Hendrix. Ms. Herrick manages a nearly convincing performance as the blind Mrs. Hendrix. Given the difficulty of playing disability, particularly one so keyed as sight, Ms. Herrick's performance manages to succeed in simply not distracting, though it manages much more. Darwin Hull, as Sam Hendrix, puts in a brief but amiable appearance that recalls a sentimentalized Lee Cobb from Death of a Salesman.
The cast, under the direction of Savannah theatrical veteran Christopher Soucy, primarily undershoot the mark, barring some exception. Given certain personnel issues throughout the rehearsal process, the cast has managed to put together an engaging show.
The set (designed by Jeroy Hannah) is an effective and spacious use of the Freight Station's sometimes limited square footage. However, the tone is truly set by the lighting (designed by director Christopher Soucy), oddly enough for a play about darkness. Mr. Soucy's choice of a brilliant, hard edged lamp for his house light helped to set the tone by bathing the waiting audience in harsh, white light.
Though Wait Until Dark is not without its shortcomings, Mr. Knott asks us to simply swallow a Byzantine con game extending to Montreal and tosses in Roat with almost no explanation as to his origins into the story, while the cast at times misses the opportunity to truly terrify, The Little Theatre of Savannah manages to put together an engaging evening of theatre.
Though the drawbacks and limitations of community theatre are a common, recurring theme here in The Savannah Dramaturgy, there is still an expectation of goodwill and excellence. Perhaps the most disturbing moment of the evening comes when this author is apologized to by multiple departing cast members. Such behavior is not only ungracious, but it also indicates to an audience member that their appreciation is unplaced and that absolution is desired. Given Savannah theatre's already limited resources, we cannot afford to lose goodwill, quite simply.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Falling off the Map
Firstly, the Savannah Dramaturgy would like to apologize for the dereliction of its duties recently. We have, indeed, missed much:
- Cardinal Rep's productions of "'Night Mother" & "Catch 22."
- AASU's productions of "Copenhagen" & "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
- I'm sure there are numerous other productions from other companies that we didn't cover.
- The changing of the guard at Savannah Cultural Arts.
- Wray Kessel's (founder of the Little Theatre) departure of this mortal coil.
- Essentially, anything of consequence for this fall season.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Once on This Island: Savannah Cultural Arts
Bravo to DJ Queenan and Savannah Cultural Arts for demonstrating precisely what the theatre in Savannah is capable of once it has the resources it needs at its disposal. With the production of Once on This Island, the production team of Savannah Cultural Arts has mustered the significant creative power from various agencies throughout the city and created something truly enjoyable for the city.
The script, by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahren, actually does fairly little to assist a production in the realm of audience identification or empathy. The piece, essentially a retelling of the 1830 Hans Christian Andersen fairytale The Little Mermaid, suffers from the classic character weaknesses of the traditional fairytale. Characters are, by and large, ciphers and silhouettes. Indeed, the main character, Ti Moune (played by Brittny Hargrove), is largely pathetic, surrendering herself to a mad quest for love. However, such victimization (self-inflicted or otherwise) is common among fairy-tale heroines and should not be taken as unusual. It is simply a measure of the script's weakness that such remains the case for Ti Moune. However, the liability is limited due to a solid showing by Ms. Hargrove.
Despite weaknesses of the book, Mr. Queenan has managed to assemble an entertaining and stimulating show. His most recent musical endeavour, The Boyfriend for the Little Theatre of Savannah, fell short largely due to musical limitations. However, the more formidable resources of the city allowed for the hiring and retention of a much stronger musical core. Further, energetic and appropriate choreography has been provided by Muriel Miller and Nancy Holmes of Abeni Cultural Arts (who also made quite an impression with their dance-based Othello during the Savannah Shakespeare Festival). The strength of the dance not only exceeded expectation, but also provided a very visceral connection to the Caribbean beat of this piece.
Further, the city has managed to bring in the varied talents of designer Danica Leigh (who provided the headpieces of the god characters), Adrienne Cronberger (costumes), and the acting talents of Ryan McCurdy, who had an excellent turn as an engaging Papa Ge. Again, the variety of resources which can be drawn upon by the city, including Abeni, Cardinal Rep, and SCAD, are a testament to the strength of Savannah's theatrical community. However, as has been evidenced by other productions, that strength is only made most fully evident when the proper resources can be brought to bear on the project. Much like this years Shakespeare Festival, Once on This Island has primarily succeeded by pulling in an combining the various orbits of Savannah's theatricality.
It should also be noted that this marks Mr. Queenan's final production with the city's Department of Cultural Affairs. He is departing to teach at Savannah Country Day, where The Savannah Dramaturgy hopes we will see more good work from him and steps forward in the training and inspiration of young artists. It is our fervent hope that Mr. Queenan's successor will draw upon the integrational abilities of the city in order to continue to strengthen Savannah's theatrical community.
The script, by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahren, actually does fairly little to assist a production in the realm of audience identification or empathy. The piece, essentially a retelling of the 1830 Hans Christian Andersen fairytale The Little Mermaid, suffers from the classic character weaknesses of the traditional fairytale. Characters are, by and large, ciphers and silhouettes. Indeed, the main character, Ti Moune (played by Brittny Hargrove), is largely pathetic, surrendering herself to a mad quest for love. However, such victimization (self-inflicted or otherwise) is common among fairy-tale heroines and should not be taken as unusual. It is simply a measure of the script's weakness that such remains the case for Ti Moune. However, the liability is limited due to a solid showing by Ms. Hargrove.
Despite weaknesses of the book, Mr. Queenan has managed to assemble an entertaining and stimulating show. His most recent musical endeavour, The Boyfriend for the Little Theatre of Savannah, fell short largely due to musical limitations. However, the more formidable resources of the city allowed for the hiring and retention of a much stronger musical core. Further, energetic and appropriate choreography has been provided by Muriel Miller and Nancy Holmes of Abeni Cultural Arts (who also made quite an impression with their dance-based Othello during the Savannah Shakespeare Festival). The strength of the dance not only exceeded expectation, but also provided a very visceral connection to the Caribbean beat of this piece.
Further, the city has managed to bring in the varied talents of designer Danica Leigh (who provided the headpieces of the god characters), Adrienne Cronberger (costumes), and the acting talents of Ryan McCurdy, who had an excellent turn as an engaging Papa Ge. Again, the variety of resources which can be drawn upon by the city, including Abeni, Cardinal Rep, and SCAD, are a testament to the strength of Savannah's theatrical community. However, as has been evidenced by other productions, that strength is only made most fully evident when the proper resources can be brought to bear on the project. Much like this years Shakespeare Festival, Once on This Island has primarily succeeded by pulling in an combining the various orbits of Savannah's theatricality.
It should also be noted that this marks Mr. Queenan's final production with the city's Department of Cultural Affairs. He is departing to teach at Savannah Country Day, where The Savannah Dramaturgy hopes we will see more good work from him and steps forward in the training and inspiration of young artists. It is our fervent hope that Mr. Queenan's successor will draw upon the integrational abilities of the city in order to continue to strengthen Savannah's theatrical community.
Friday, June 6, 2008
The Boy Friend: Little Theatre of Savannah
There is a saying, that one cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. While scientists at MIT have proven this to be false, they also found that it takes more than one ear. Which, once again, brings the Savannah Dramaturgy around to the perennial problem of Theatre in Savannah... more resources are needed.
Upon seeing the latest offering of the Little Theatre of Savannah, this author found this to be all the truer. The Boy Friend, performed in the Seaboard Freight Station Theatre, falls all too short. This is through no real lack of effort on the part of the people involved, who should be applauded, but instead through various inherent shortcomings.
The story itself is almost as old as the theatre. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, and boy gets girl in the end. This time honoured story can be found in musicals from Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes, and West Side Story. The Boy Friend is perhaps the most overt of all of these, but that is no real weakness, as such a primal story must have been addressed eventually, much to the pleasure of this author and anyone else with a romantic interest.
Yet, one cannot help feeling that the Little Theatre's production might have missed the point here. In the program notes, director DJ Queenan writes of a 1950's show spoofing earlier the musicals of the 1920's. And yet, if this piece is to be thought of as a send up, it most certainly lacks teeth, both scripturally and in the production. Though opportunity is ample to engage in self-referential fun, this is rarely done. Indeed, the opening song of "Perfect Young Ladies," seems a perfect opportunity. And yet, the tongues stay very firmly out of the cheeks and falls flat in a meta-theatrical sense. Indeed, only once, when Madame Dubonnet (played with gusto by Carol Melton) calls the spotlight to herself in true diva fashion before breaking into song. As such, there is a lost expectation here.
Further, there is a sharpness that one find highly desirable, and lacking, in this particular piece. Unfortunately, the Freight Station Theatre is an unforgiving venue, and errors can be glaring. Even small issues such as which particular leg is extended in the choreography do truly stick out around here. The combination of venue and the demands of the piece itself does the Little Theatre no favours. Combine this with the inherent limitations of the community theatre (which was addressed in the curtain speech preceding the show) and one most certainly has vagueness worthy of Monet himself. Unfortunately, beautiful as Monet's work is, the content of the piece does not lend itself to impressionism or watercolour.
Further, this author must wonder that an art city like Savannah lacks willing musicians. While musicians in the theatre are traditionally paid, even in community theatre, one must wonder if there is nobody out there. The use of electronic instuments (primarily keyboard and synth) kept the full impact of this piece from reaching the audience. Musicals are effective primarily because of the music, pure and simple. Indeed, one can often stand in the parking lot of a theatre after a musical and be treated to an impromptu performance of most of the showstoppers, being variously hummed, whistled, and sung by the departing audience. And yet, such was not the case. Proper orchestration helps to give the music a truly visceral effect, as one's skin thrills to the cadenza of a trumpet and the rhythm thumps in one's chest. And yet, the reliance upon electronic instruments instead of tradition orchestration robbed the audience of such an effect and failed to produce the impromptu parking lot performances. Indeed, by the end of this show, one finds oneself willing to sell one's soul for a trumpet (one should note that is production made limited use of trumpet, played from backstage by a member of the cast, but the effect was limited) or one's firstborn for an entire brass section.
And yet, despite all of this, one truly wants to feel the transportation inherent in the genre. The cast performs with such effort that one truly wishes that their boundless goodwill can be translated into the audience identification their pains deserve. Jeroy Hannah, who was also featured in the Little Theatre's The Moustrap, presents the clear-cut and slightly uptight of Percival Browne to great effect. Hortense (Lariena Brown) struts her stuff to delightful effect in "Nicer in Nice." Nick Bushkar as Tony, who could not have been better rendered by Norman Rockwell, is the quintessential perfect young man, and Polly Browne's (Jonette Page) shock and dismay at the possible derailment of her fledgling love affair grips the heartstrings of anyone who has ever feared the same.
In the end, this production was to be seen once, repeat performances neither needed nor desired. The fault is not that of the cast, but instead should be placed directly at the feet of the community's limitations. However, it should also be noted that this author also barely managed to get a ticket to the performance. Evidently, it clicked for some. Given that the average age of the audience was "post-mortem," perhaps there is something that this author needs time to see.
Upon seeing the latest offering of the Little Theatre of Savannah, this author found this to be all the truer. The Boy Friend, performed in the Seaboard Freight Station Theatre, falls all too short. This is through no real lack of effort on the part of the people involved, who should be applauded, but instead through various inherent shortcomings.
The story itself is almost as old as the theatre. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, and boy gets girl in the end. This time honoured story can be found in musicals from Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes, and West Side Story. The Boy Friend is perhaps the most overt of all of these, but that is no real weakness, as such a primal story must have been addressed eventually, much to the pleasure of this author and anyone else with a romantic interest.
Yet, one cannot help feeling that the Little Theatre's production might have missed the point here. In the program notes, director DJ Queenan writes of a 1950's show spoofing earlier the musicals of the 1920's. And yet, if this piece is to be thought of as a send up, it most certainly lacks teeth, both scripturally and in the production. Though opportunity is ample to engage in self-referential fun, this is rarely done. Indeed, the opening song of "Perfect Young Ladies," seems a perfect opportunity. And yet, the tongues stay very firmly out of the cheeks and falls flat in a meta-theatrical sense. Indeed, only once, when Madame Dubonnet (played with gusto by Carol Melton) calls the spotlight to herself in true diva fashion before breaking into song. As such, there is a lost expectation here.
Further, there is a sharpness that one find highly desirable, and lacking, in this particular piece. Unfortunately, the Freight Station Theatre is an unforgiving venue, and errors can be glaring. Even small issues such as which particular leg is extended in the choreography do truly stick out around here. The combination of venue and the demands of the piece itself does the Little Theatre no favours. Combine this with the inherent limitations of the community theatre (which was addressed in the curtain speech preceding the show) and one most certainly has vagueness worthy of Monet himself. Unfortunately, beautiful as Monet's work is, the content of the piece does not lend itself to impressionism or watercolour.
Further, this author must wonder that an art city like Savannah lacks willing musicians. While musicians in the theatre are traditionally paid, even in community theatre, one must wonder if there is nobody out there. The use of electronic instuments (primarily keyboard and synth) kept the full impact of this piece from reaching the audience. Musicals are effective primarily because of the music, pure and simple. Indeed, one can often stand in the parking lot of a theatre after a musical and be treated to an impromptu performance of most of the showstoppers, being variously hummed, whistled, and sung by the departing audience. And yet, such was not the case. Proper orchestration helps to give the music a truly visceral effect, as one's skin thrills to the cadenza of a trumpet and the rhythm thumps in one's chest. And yet, the reliance upon electronic instruments instead of tradition orchestration robbed the audience of such an effect and failed to produce the impromptu parking lot performances. Indeed, by the end of this show, one finds oneself willing to sell one's soul for a trumpet (one should note that is production made limited use of trumpet, played from backstage by a member of the cast, but the effect was limited) or one's firstborn for an entire brass section.
And yet, despite all of this, one truly wants to feel the transportation inherent in the genre. The cast performs with such effort that one truly wishes that their boundless goodwill can be translated into the audience identification their pains deserve. Jeroy Hannah, who was also featured in the Little Theatre's The Moustrap, presents the clear-cut and slightly uptight of Percival Browne to great effect. Hortense (Lariena Brown) struts her stuff to delightful effect in "Nicer in Nice." Nick Bushkar as Tony, who could not have been better rendered by Norman Rockwell, is the quintessential perfect young man, and Polly Browne's (Jonette Page) shock and dismay at the possible derailment of her fledgling love affair grips the heartstrings of anyone who has ever feared the same.
In the end, this production was to be seen once, repeat performances neither needed nor desired. The fault is not that of the cast, but instead should be placed directly at the feet of the community's limitations. However, it should also be noted that this author also barely managed to get a ticket to the performance. Evidently, it clicked for some. Given that the average age of the audience was "post-mortem," perhaps there is something that this author needs time to see.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Laughing Wild: Cardinal Rep
Life is tough, why must we make it tougher on ourselves? This is the message promulgated by award winning playwright Christopher Durang in his show Laughing Wild. Chronicling the course of events surrounding an ill-fated shopping trip for tuna fish, Mr. Durang suggests that life could indeed be easier if we all would just breathe, live, and empathize with our fellow humans.
Written during Durang's early years in New York City, a city which he regarded with the deepest fear and loathing, the damaged souls that he parades before the audience do what they can to cope, even if it requires violence. And yet, despite the fact that the minds of his characters are not merely twisted, but indeed are fully sprained, there is a hopeful call for understanding between fellow humans.
One of the limitations of this script, however, is its inherent topicality. Very much a product of 1980's angst, numerous references are made to Chernobyl, the rising AIDS epidemic, and the king-hell of all unsympathetic father figures, Ronald Reagan. Given this topicality, which borders on the level of stand-up comedy at times, one might wonder if Laughing Wild can still speak to audiences today. Indeed, topicality in scripts is an issue that one must wrestle with when considering production. Even hallowed Rent, very much a product of its times, has been considered a candidate for topical update, in the hopes that freshness will be retained if the transcendent message is leavened with fresh topicality. However, one should note that all truly great drama not only contains these connectors to transcend time and place, but also is firmly rooted in the milieu of the time in which it was created.
Laughing Wild is a product of the Boomer/Yuppie ennui of the 1980's, he who dies with the most toys wins. While there are striking similarities between that ennui and the existential boredom that currently infests the culture, one should note that they have distinct roots. While today's ennui is the outcome of failed economic policy, fear, and interminable war, that of the 1980's was far for affective upon the fringes. Given that the United States would soon emerge victorious from the Cold War as the world's last remaining superpower, there was a tinge of victory in those times. Yet, the ennui of Durang is very much that of one who will not share in the celebration. Thus, The Savannah Dramaturgy applauds the director, Ms. Bridget Tunstall, and Cardinal Rep for refraining from updating this script. Only Twinkies keep their freshness unsullied through the ages, and keeping Laughing Wild rooted in the original context of the 80's actually helps the audience build a greater understanding of their own disillusionment by seeing that of another age honestly depicted.
Further, Caridal Rep has constructed, in Laughing Wild, a strong argument for its consideration as the flagship of Savannah's theatrical community. Given the spare set, really a stripped and repainted version of the Little Theatre's Moustrap, one is allowed to focus far more on the talents of actor and director without being distracted by flash. Ms. Tunstall, in her professional debut, has molded a moving and entertaining piece that reaches across the almost twenty years since its writing to shake the audience roughly awake and shine an almost Beckettian light in their faces. The acting, ably executed by Cardinal Rep Literary Director Phil Keeling and stalwart Valerie Lavelle, navigates the twisting, thesaurus infected stream of consciousness Mr. Durang has provided. Foundering upon the rocks of obscure referentiality or simple, ridiculous absurdism in order to keep the audience laughing would be easy with this piece, and yet the cast navigates well. Mr. Keeling effectively conveys the fear of one living in the United States and yet trying to retain that small shred of dignity and coherence that could all too easily be whisked away. Ms. Lavelle quite simply glows in the dark with the crushing madness of one who has already lost everything and now seeks only to survive.
Indeed, much can be said about the acting here. Which is another of the strengths of this piece, and Cardinal Rep's choice thereof. Though Edward Albee's Seascape had originally been planned for this slot, only having to be abandoned due to certain personnel issues, Laughing Wild has a particular strength in service the Cardinal Rep's mission to build an indigenous theatrical community for the city of Savannah. The sparse nature of this production, along with the opportunity for virtuoso performance from the city's actors, provides much-needed exposure to the talents available to the city's growing theatre. While Seascape is a wonderful play, it provides far less of this and therefor may be considered of lesser service to the development of Savannah's theatre community. Savannah now knows, because if they have not seen then The Savannah Dramaturgy is telling them, that there are some true virtuosos at their disposal. Further, we issue a warning that such talents MUST BE fostered if there Savannah truly aspires to have a theatre of its own. This extends to those groups outside of Cardinal Rep, and should be addressed across the board.
Finally, it is worth noting the intesly communitarian spirit felt in this production. The setting at the Freight Station Theatre is delightfully intimate and projects an aura of ongoing activity. In much the same way that mid-century movie houses would run their fare continually, including newsreels, on the off chance that one must step out and return, the feel around Cardinal Rep is very much that while you might miss one thing, the institution is here to stay. Indeed, if Mr. McCurdy and company keep this up, then The Savannah Dramaturgy prophesies that "The Rep" will soon become shorthand and an integral part of the Savannah lexicon.
Written during Durang's early years in New York City, a city which he regarded with the deepest fear and loathing, the damaged souls that he parades before the audience do what they can to cope, even if it requires violence. And yet, despite the fact that the minds of his characters are not merely twisted, but indeed are fully sprained, there is a hopeful call for understanding between fellow humans.
One of the limitations of this script, however, is its inherent topicality. Very much a product of 1980's angst, numerous references are made to Chernobyl, the rising AIDS epidemic, and the king-hell of all unsympathetic father figures, Ronald Reagan. Given this topicality, which borders on the level of stand-up comedy at times, one might wonder if Laughing Wild can still speak to audiences today. Indeed, topicality in scripts is an issue that one must wrestle with when considering production. Even hallowed Rent, very much a product of its times, has been considered a candidate for topical update, in the hopes that freshness will be retained if the transcendent message is leavened with fresh topicality. However, one should note that all truly great drama not only contains these connectors to transcend time and place, but also is firmly rooted in the milieu of the time in which it was created.
Laughing Wild is a product of the Boomer/Yuppie ennui of the 1980's, he who dies with the most toys wins. While there are striking similarities between that ennui and the existential boredom that currently infests the culture, one should note that they have distinct roots. While today's ennui is the outcome of failed economic policy, fear, and interminable war, that of the 1980's was far for affective upon the fringes. Given that the United States would soon emerge victorious from the Cold War as the world's last remaining superpower, there was a tinge of victory in those times. Yet, the ennui of Durang is very much that of one who will not share in the celebration. Thus, The Savannah Dramaturgy applauds the director, Ms. Bridget Tunstall, and Cardinal Rep for refraining from updating this script. Only Twinkies keep their freshness unsullied through the ages, and keeping Laughing Wild rooted in the original context of the 80's actually helps the audience build a greater understanding of their own disillusionment by seeing that of another age honestly depicted.
Further, Caridal Rep has constructed, in Laughing Wild, a strong argument for its consideration as the flagship of Savannah's theatrical community. Given the spare set, really a stripped and repainted version of the Little Theatre's Moustrap, one is allowed to focus far more on the talents of actor and director without being distracted by flash. Ms. Tunstall, in her professional debut, has molded a moving and entertaining piece that reaches across the almost twenty years since its writing to shake the audience roughly awake and shine an almost Beckettian light in their faces. The acting, ably executed by Cardinal Rep Literary Director Phil Keeling and stalwart Valerie Lavelle, navigates the twisting, thesaurus infected stream of consciousness Mr. Durang has provided. Foundering upon the rocks of obscure referentiality or simple, ridiculous absurdism in order to keep the audience laughing would be easy with this piece, and yet the cast navigates well. Mr. Keeling effectively conveys the fear of one living in the United States and yet trying to retain that small shred of dignity and coherence that could all too easily be whisked away. Ms. Lavelle quite simply glows in the dark with the crushing madness of one who has already lost everything and now seeks only to survive.
Indeed, much can be said about the acting here. Which is another of the strengths of this piece, and Cardinal Rep's choice thereof. Though Edward Albee's Seascape had originally been planned for this slot, only having to be abandoned due to certain personnel issues, Laughing Wild has a particular strength in service the Cardinal Rep's mission to build an indigenous theatrical community for the city of Savannah. The sparse nature of this production, along with the opportunity for virtuoso performance from the city's actors, provides much-needed exposure to the talents available to the city's growing theatre. While Seascape is a wonderful play, it provides far less of this and therefor may be considered of lesser service to the development of Savannah's theatre community. Savannah now knows, because if they have not seen then The Savannah Dramaturgy is telling them, that there are some true virtuosos at their disposal. Further, we issue a warning that such talents MUST BE fostered if there Savannah truly aspires to have a theatre of its own. This extends to those groups outside of Cardinal Rep, and should be addressed across the board.
Finally, it is worth noting the intesly communitarian spirit felt in this production. The setting at the Freight Station Theatre is delightfully intimate and projects an aura of ongoing activity. In much the same way that mid-century movie houses would run their fare continually, including newsreels, on the off chance that one must step out and return, the feel around Cardinal Rep is very much that while you might miss one thing, the institution is here to stay. Indeed, if Mr. McCurdy and company keep this up, then The Savannah Dramaturgy prophesies that "The Rep" will soon become shorthand and an integral part of the Savannah lexicon.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Crossing the Footlights: Theatre and the Public
"You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete."
--R. Buckminster Fuller
Admittedly, The Savannah Dramaturgy stole that quote from Theatre Ideas, but it is fitting to our topic nonetheless. Conventional wisdom is that the theatre is dying. Of course, according to that same wisdom, it has been dying for almost four thousand years. It is, in quite simple economic terms, unwieldy. Take into consideration, for example, the resource input, in terms of manpower alone, for a production of Death of a Salesman. Even if, during a three-week run, this piece is a smashing success and fills its 500 seat auditorium, that is still a fraction of the total audience exposure compared to a comparable piece of cinema.
Quite simply, the theatre cannot compete with cinema and television in terms of sheer numbers. The march of technology, along with the need to pay theatrical artists a living wage, has made that impossible. Instead, the theatre must offer a substantial qualitative difference from these other two art forms. While volumes have been written about the specific power of live performance, and this article does not attempt to deny said power, this power is but a fraction of the possible qualitative difference that the theatre can offer to patrons.
The remainder of this difference, in my opinion, is where the concept of local theatres in various cities becomes involved. Theatre companies looking to be truly competitive need to reach out across the footlights and grasp the hands of the community as a whole. Indeed, the community needs to feel somehow involved with the theatre company, to develop a relationship, in order that they may then begin to look out for the welfare of the company.
This locality is the very heart of the qualitative difference between the theatre and film. The average film, while it will reach far more people, stands less of a chance of building a strong relationship with an audience that counts than an organized local theatre company. Films, made wherever taxes are cheapest and shipped to all corners of the Earth, can tend to be impersonal and lack a real connection to the community in which they are filmed. Take, for example, Glory. This piece ostensibly took place, primarily, in Boston. Yet it was filmed right here in Savannah, GA.
Theatre, on the other hand, is forced to be local. Unless one is dealing with a bus or truck tour, theatre is irrevocably rooted to the city in which it is located. And, in order to be their most effective, they must acknowledge and act as if they are beholden to their community. This means, and this may be something of a shock to many thespians, crossing the footlights and living in the community. This can take many forms, from partnership with local business to participation in civic events to simply cutting the locals a deal to ensure they can afford the best.
Benefits from such engagement run two ways. Not only does the community have the advantage of brightly plumaged birds (artists) that help to raise property values and general quality of llife, but also it has access to quality entertainment that is truly their own. One of the louder laments from the critics of the Regional theatre is that these institutions are often maintained as an object of civic pride, as opposed to artistic merit. However, what city would boast a shallow theatre? But the theatre itself also benefits, and not only financially. It has an engaged audience that, if fostered properly, will support the organization in taking certain artistic leaps.
However, all this is only possible if the theatre takes the initiative. Unfortunately, thespians are creatures of immense inertia. Indeed, Frank Rutledge once told his theatre history class, "The reason theatre people do certain things is because that is the way things are done in the theatre." Essentially, one can become so isolated that one becomes detached from the audience. To become so is to forget the most important of the collaborators, the audience. So, The Savannah Dramaturgy reissues its challenge to the city of Savannah and the theatrical community. Link up, all will be the better for it.
--R. Buckminster Fuller
Admittedly, The Savannah Dramaturgy stole that quote from Theatre Ideas, but it is fitting to our topic nonetheless. Conventional wisdom is that the theatre is dying. Of course, according to that same wisdom, it has been dying for almost four thousand years. It is, in quite simple economic terms, unwieldy. Take into consideration, for example, the resource input, in terms of manpower alone, for a production of Death of a Salesman. Even if, during a three-week run, this piece is a smashing success and fills its 500 seat auditorium, that is still a fraction of the total audience exposure compared to a comparable piece of cinema.
Quite simply, the theatre cannot compete with cinema and television in terms of sheer numbers. The march of technology, along with the need to pay theatrical artists a living wage, has made that impossible. Instead, the theatre must offer a substantial qualitative difference from these other two art forms. While volumes have been written about the specific power of live performance, and this article does not attempt to deny said power, this power is but a fraction of the possible qualitative difference that the theatre can offer to patrons.
The remainder of this difference, in my opinion, is where the concept of local theatres in various cities becomes involved. Theatre companies looking to be truly competitive need to reach out across the footlights and grasp the hands of the community as a whole. Indeed, the community needs to feel somehow involved with the theatre company, to develop a relationship, in order that they may then begin to look out for the welfare of the company.
This locality is the very heart of the qualitative difference between the theatre and film. The average film, while it will reach far more people, stands less of a chance of building a strong relationship with an audience that counts than an organized local theatre company. Films, made wherever taxes are cheapest and shipped to all corners of the Earth, can tend to be impersonal and lack a real connection to the community in which they are filmed. Take, for example, Glory. This piece ostensibly took place, primarily, in Boston. Yet it was filmed right here in Savannah, GA.
Theatre, on the other hand, is forced to be local. Unless one is dealing with a bus or truck tour, theatre is irrevocably rooted to the city in which it is located. And, in order to be their most effective, they must acknowledge and act as if they are beholden to their community. This means, and this may be something of a shock to many thespians, crossing the footlights and living in the community. This can take many forms, from partnership with local business to participation in civic events to simply cutting the locals a deal to ensure they can afford the best.
Benefits from such engagement run two ways. Not only does the community have the advantage of brightly plumaged birds (artists) that help to raise property values and general quality of llife, but also it has access to quality entertainment that is truly their own. One of the louder laments from the critics of the Regional theatre is that these institutions are often maintained as an object of civic pride, as opposed to artistic merit. However, what city would boast a shallow theatre? But the theatre itself also benefits, and not only financially. It has an engaged audience that, if fostered properly, will support the organization in taking certain artistic leaps.
However, all this is only possible if the theatre takes the initiative. Unfortunately, thespians are creatures of immense inertia. Indeed, Frank Rutledge once told his theatre history class, "The reason theatre people do certain things is because that is the way things are done in the theatre." Essentially, one can become so isolated that one becomes detached from the audience. To become so is to forget the most important of the collaborators, the audience. So, The Savannah Dramaturgy reissues its challenge to the city of Savannah and the theatrical community. Link up, all will be the better for it.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Does Theatre Spend too Much Time Navel Gazing?
Recently reading my way through various theatre blogs, I was struck by the fact that many posts were simply "interviews" where a list of questions had been sent to one artist or another and their answers listed. Questions such as "What role does anger play in your work?" seemed to abound, and yet there really seemed to be very little said. This is not to insinuate that the questions were not answered, in many cases they were, but there seemed to be little real substance.
One, however, should not mistake this reference to "real substance" as a condemnation of the answers afforded by these artists. For the most part, the questions were answered truthfully and thoughtfully. However, what was lacking was that essential aspect of a good publication, the concept of significance.
While there is nothing inherently wrong with such questions, they must be posed for a specific reason. If a playwright's work is based in anger... what does this mean for the theatre? Similarly with a director, dramaturg, or any other given discipline, what is the significance of their mindset? Samuel Beckett, poet laureate of the Theatre of the Absurd, lamented his Nobel Prize in literature, assuming that commentators would then search to find meaning in his plays from the context of the man's life when, according to Beckett, his own life experience had little impact on his dramatic theory and expression. Beckett refused questioning, as opposed to embracing it, but had a significant reason for doing so.
The fact that playwrights do/do not draw much of their work from anger and frustration must be given a context. Quite simply, what does it mean? Might such a fact point to a decline in the standard of living, or other such source of frustration, and thereby the drama be turned outward as a weapon against the root of said frustration? Such would be the ideal.
Aristotle viewed good drama as having medicinal qualities. Brecht posited that impulses could be directed to affect social change. The Savannah Dramaturgy encourages these artists, particularly the originator of the questionnaire that is the centre of this article, to try and draw some significance from their attitudes. It will not only inform their drama, but also might assist in curing what ills them. Attitude without context is simply navel gazing, much akin to simply "being avant-garde" for the sake of being edgy, as opposed to finding it to be the most effective method of dramatic expression for one's own particular message.
One, however, should not mistake this reference to "real substance" as a condemnation of the answers afforded by these artists. For the most part, the questions were answered truthfully and thoughtfully. However, what was lacking was that essential aspect of a good publication, the concept of significance.
While there is nothing inherently wrong with such questions, they must be posed for a specific reason. If a playwright's work is based in anger... what does this mean for the theatre? Similarly with a director, dramaturg, or any other given discipline, what is the significance of their mindset? Samuel Beckett, poet laureate of the Theatre of the Absurd, lamented his Nobel Prize in literature, assuming that commentators would then search to find meaning in his plays from the context of the man's life when, according to Beckett, his own life experience had little impact on his dramatic theory and expression. Beckett refused questioning, as opposed to embracing it, but had a significant reason for doing so.
The fact that playwrights do/do not draw much of their work from anger and frustration must be given a context. Quite simply, what does it mean? Might such a fact point to a decline in the standard of living, or other such source of frustration, and thereby the drama be turned outward as a weapon against the root of said frustration? Such would be the ideal.
Aristotle viewed good drama as having medicinal qualities. Brecht posited that impulses could be directed to affect social change. The Savannah Dramaturgy encourages these artists, particularly the originator of the questionnaire that is the centre of this article, to try and draw some significance from their attitudes. It will not only inform their drama, but also might assist in curing what ills them. Attitude without context is simply navel gazing, much akin to simply "being avant-garde" for the sake of being edgy, as opposed to finding it to be the most effective method of dramatic expression for one's own particular message.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Whence from the Academy?
For theatrical educators, especially in towns with a developing indigenous theatre community and numerous theatrical education programs, the question that often crops up from students, and which the educator might ask himself from time to time, is "where to from here?" Undergraduates who are not bound for a graduate program, and Graduates who are coming from anything other than a well-connected conservatory, is going to be faced with the difficult challenge of finding work. As Dr. John Hanners of Texas A&M University- Commerce once said, finding anything is a challenge, but it is worth it because one is "in theatre" no matter how poorly it pays.
While this is laudatory, and The Savannah Dramaturgy is inclined to agree, the necessities of modern life invariably assert themselves. Our actors (since the grand majority of them are actors) need to eat, and be shod, housed, and medically looked after. And, unfortunately, they wind up waiting tables, stocking shelves, or doing less savory things for the requisite cash. And, mores the pity, should they get theatrical work, then they often must abandon their "day" job in the name of their career... and as such the cycle perpetuates. Keep in mind that Actor's Equity, a trade union, boasts an 80% unemployment rate as an accomplishment.
So, my eager students, I fear I cannot answer that question well. The obvious suspects (New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago) are all possibilities. But The Savannah Dramaturgy joins with Theatre Ideas in recommending an idea a little closer to home. Many cities have the sufficient size and infrastructure to support a theatre! Thespians need to spread out! Sure, Sioux City and Kalamazoo aren't the most glamourous of places... but they still have audiences that need contacting! They still seek truth and art (all except perhaps Lubbock, TX... which I am convinced is primarily populated by refugee Visigoths).
Such an action might not lead to immediate stardom. Indeed, it most likely will not. Yet, many of the regional theatres in smaller and more marginal population centres have produced major work. How I Learned To Drive (Pulitzer Winner) was developed at the Perseverance Theatre in Juneau. Anna in the Tropics (also a Pulitzer Winner) originally came from Coral Gables! There is, at the very least, a better chance at recognition in a smaller town. You might not break into stardom in Juneau, but you definitely will not waiting tables at Yazoos in the Village.
Which brings us, dear reader, back to education. Most of modern theatrical education, unfortunately, is training our students for an industry that does not really desire their presence. Competition is too high, investment is too important. We must begin to teach our aspiring thespians not only skills for survival (something which this writer is still deeply indebted to Marcus Olson and Jeff DeVincent for) but also for artistic leadership. Lessing sought a theatre where even the "candle snuffer" was a Garrick. And educators must take those steps to prepare them. Not only must they know what to do, but why and how it is to be done.
While The Savannah Dramaturgy differs with Theatre Ideas on the desirability of the tribal structure, we are in agreement that we must spread out. As we all, intellectually, sprang generations ago from Yale and George Pierce Baker, we must push for a further expansion. Which leads me to once again lay a challenge at the feet of the city of Savannah. A sustainable, professional, indigenous theatre community is needed, and needed sorely. Reach.
While this is laudatory, and The Savannah Dramaturgy is inclined to agree, the necessities of modern life invariably assert themselves. Our actors (since the grand majority of them are actors) need to eat, and be shod, housed, and medically looked after. And, unfortunately, they wind up waiting tables, stocking shelves, or doing less savory things for the requisite cash. And, mores the pity, should they get theatrical work, then they often must abandon their "day" job in the name of their career... and as such the cycle perpetuates. Keep in mind that Actor's Equity, a trade union, boasts an 80% unemployment rate as an accomplishment.
So, my eager students, I fear I cannot answer that question well. The obvious suspects (New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago) are all possibilities. But The Savannah Dramaturgy joins with Theatre Ideas in recommending an idea a little closer to home. Many cities have the sufficient size and infrastructure to support a theatre! Thespians need to spread out! Sure, Sioux City and Kalamazoo aren't the most glamourous of places... but they still have audiences that need contacting! They still seek truth and art (all except perhaps Lubbock, TX... which I am convinced is primarily populated by refugee Visigoths).
Such an action might not lead to immediate stardom. Indeed, it most likely will not. Yet, many of the regional theatres in smaller and more marginal population centres have produced major work. How I Learned To Drive (Pulitzer Winner) was developed at the Perseverance Theatre in Juneau. Anna in the Tropics (also a Pulitzer Winner) originally came from Coral Gables! There is, at the very least, a better chance at recognition in a smaller town. You might not break into stardom in Juneau, but you definitely will not waiting tables at Yazoos in the Village.
Which brings us, dear reader, back to education. Most of modern theatrical education, unfortunately, is training our students for an industry that does not really desire their presence. Competition is too high, investment is too important. We must begin to teach our aspiring thespians not only skills for survival (something which this writer is still deeply indebted to Marcus Olson and Jeff DeVincent for) but also for artistic leadership. Lessing sought a theatre where even the "candle snuffer" was a Garrick. And educators must take those steps to prepare them. Not only must they know what to do, but why and how it is to be done.
While The Savannah Dramaturgy differs with Theatre Ideas on the desirability of the tribal structure, we are in agreement that we must spread out. As we all, intellectually, sprang generations ago from Yale and George Pierce Baker, we must push for a further expansion. Which leads me to once again lay a challenge at the feet of the city of Savannah. A sustainable, professional, indigenous theatre community is needed, and needed sorely. Reach.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Flight of the Albatross: The Savannah Shakespeare Festival
"Good friend, for Jesus sake forebear
To dig the dust enclosed here.
Blest be the man that spares these stones
And curst be he that moves my bones."
-- Inscription on the Tomb of William Shakespeare
I figure that Shakespeare has little to fear on the account of his grave being moved. After all, the thing weighs quite a bit. Indeed, the curse upon those who move his bones will most likely be severe hernia.
Which is not at all dissimilar to the aspirations of the Savannah Shakespeare Festival. To accomplish the vision set out by Festival Director, JinHi Rand, some heavy lifting is going to be required. It is the hope of The Savannah Dramaturgy that the theatre community, or tribe, if you like, will be equal to the task. Getting almost any festival off the ground is a daunting task, and combined with the challenge of doing justice, as opposed to violence, to the Bard just adds to the weight.
As I currently understand it, and I encourage anybody more involved than myself to disabuse me of this if it is fallacious, is that the Festival will be partnering with the various producing agencies in the city of Savannah to produce a showcase, essentially, of Shakespearean works on the topic of love and its various incarnations. To sew such disparate elements into a coherent whole will be a challenge akin to getting the Spruce Goose off the tarmac. While I applaud the concept of integrating the performance community, I also question if it is possible. Indeed, if one were to lock Savannah luminaries such as Ryan McCurdy, Karla Knudsen, and DJ Queenan into a room, the chances of getting a completely satisfactory pizza order from them may fall short.
Indeed, having spoken to some folks involved, the unified festival auditions, as they were performed, left each of the institutions unable to cast their sequence and in need of holding separate auditions. While not necessary problematic, each of these producing agencies have their own health and seasons to keep in mind, and many things to do. Indicative of this is that there has been little to no notice regarding these separate auditions, and the clock is ticking.
Given how close this program was to being axed entirely, which would have been an unwise move on the part of the City of Savannah, perhaps we should consider ourselves lucky that it still has legs at all. But current status seems that it has legs very similar to James Caan's in Misery and one must ask if a year on ice might not help in the long run.
Indeed, my proposal for future festivals, so that they could be properly be called festivals, is that the Savannah Shakespeare Festival approach each of the production companies in the city and work with them to integrate festival content into their season. The Festival would help foot the bill, and the production companies would have a way of coming together. The current situation, I fear, may be an example of too many chefs spoiling the stew.
An albatross, once aloft, if actually quite beautiful. But watching the takeoff procedures is similar to watching sausage being made in terms of general pleasantness. Here is hoping that my worries are unfounded, but they exist nonetheless.
To dig the dust enclosed here.
Blest be the man that spares these stones
And curst be he that moves my bones."
-- Inscription on the Tomb of William Shakespeare
I figure that Shakespeare has little to fear on the account of his grave being moved. After all, the thing weighs quite a bit. Indeed, the curse upon those who move his bones will most likely be severe hernia.
Which is not at all dissimilar to the aspirations of the Savannah Shakespeare Festival. To accomplish the vision set out by Festival Director, JinHi Rand, some heavy lifting is going to be required. It is the hope of The Savannah Dramaturgy that the theatre community, or tribe, if you like, will be equal to the task. Getting almost any festival off the ground is a daunting task, and combined with the challenge of doing justice, as opposed to violence, to the Bard just adds to the weight.
As I currently understand it, and I encourage anybody more involved than myself to disabuse me of this if it is fallacious, is that the Festival will be partnering with the various producing agencies in the city of Savannah to produce a showcase, essentially, of Shakespearean works on the topic of love and its various incarnations. To sew such disparate elements into a coherent whole will be a challenge akin to getting the Spruce Goose off the tarmac. While I applaud the concept of integrating the performance community, I also question if it is possible. Indeed, if one were to lock Savannah luminaries such as Ryan McCurdy, Karla Knudsen, and DJ Queenan into a room, the chances of getting a completely satisfactory pizza order from them may fall short.
Indeed, having spoken to some folks involved, the unified festival auditions, as they were performed, left each of the institutions unable to cast their sequence and in need of holding separate auditions. While not necessary problematic, each of these producing agencies have their own health and seasons to keep in mind, and many things to do. Indicative of this is that there has been little to no notice regarding these separate auditions, and the clock is ticking.
Given how close this program was to being axed entirely, which would have been an unwise move on the part of the City of Savannah, perhaps we should consider ourselves lucky that it still has legs at all. But current status seems that it has legs very similar to James Caan's in Misery and one must ask if a year on ice might not help in the long run.
Indeed, my proposal for future festivals, so that they could be properly be called festivals, is that the Savannah Shakespeare Festival approach each of the production companies in the city and work with them to integrate festival content into their season. The Festival would help foot the bill, and the production companies would have a way of coming together. The current situation, I fear, may be an example of too many chefs spoiling the stew.
An albatross, once aloft, if actually quite beautiful. But watching the takeoff procedures is similar to watching sausage being made in terms of general pleasantness. Here is hoping that my worries are unfounded, but they exist nonetheless.
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf: Armstrong Atlantic State University
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf, performed over the weekend of March 28th at the Masquer's Chinese Theatre on the Southside has managed, under the direction of Dr. Elizabeth Denoyers-Cola, to create the ensemble feel that The Savannah Dramaturgy applauds most heartily.
This choreopoem, as it is labeled, by Ntozake Shange, has lost none of its bite or relevance despite roughly twenty years of age upon its back. Particularly following Dr. Cola's approach of "Old School/New School" this piece rises as a collaborative masterpiece in the college season. Though the language is not updated, which would often ruin the poetry of the piece, contemporary music and dance, particularly of the hip-hop genre, is leavened into the piece. As Dr. Cola acknowledges that the process was largely one of learning, running in both directions from New and Old schools, this learning has not failed to produce a product that rewards the audience.
Further, for the opening night performance of March 27th, the piece was accompanied by a reception (and I do not know a dramaturg who will turn down free food) with panel discussion regarding For Colored Girls' continued relevance and place in the African-American dramatic canon. For this discussion alone, it was worth braving the cramped, stuffy interior of Masquer's Chinese Theatre. Indeed, given the fact that the program is staged by an educational institution, I find it dismaying that this is not done more often. One of the prime purposes of drama in education, according to scholars as various as Thomas Gressler and Robert Corrigan, is to teach individuals a deeper understanding of themselves and their situation. By placing Shange's work in the broader context, and reflecting upon how it affected and still affects the panelists, an excellent opportunity was created for the students to explore their own past and the history of the African American. It is a communal experience and an attempt to tap into the communal history.
Anyone reading the script to Colored Girls will find themselves somewhat confused by
Shange's unconventional punctuation, yet the purpose is to break up the standard narrative rhythm into Shange's poetry. One thing that was disappointing was that the rhythm and verve of Shange's writing was not always embodied in voice or movement by the actors. Notable exceptions to this are a recitation by Dr. Cola, the director, herself and much of the material from Lady in Purple (Amber Jones). Here one can find Shange's writing used to its full extent to create the beat of the life of a black woman.
Notable in this production is the inclusion of the male roles in the play, as opposed to the women playing an entire ensemble. While the latter is the more traditional approach, Dr. Cola elected to cast and include male actors in those very roles. Doing so, I feel, was the wiser thing to do in this case on a few different grounds. Firstly, changing between roles quickly is a form of acting that requires a definite amount of talent for the actor involved, and it is a task which student actors are generally not capable of performing effectively (certain counterexamples, such as Will Mobley's performance of the Artful Dodger in SCAD's production of Oliver Twist notwithstanding). Further, from a less practical standpoint, there is the fact that African American men are a very real, very physical part of the lives of African American women. Including the men in the space physically helps to reflect this.
Clive Barnes of The New York Times wrote that this piece could have made him feel guilty about being white and male, and yet it didn't. Coming from a very similar standpoint, I must agree. Instead, the AASU Masquers have managed to construct and perform a canticle. A canticle that sings the praises of humanity, and makes it possible for WASPs to have black sisters.
This choreopoem, as it is labeled, by Ntozake Shange, has lost none of its bite or relevance despite roughly twenty years of age upon its back. Particularly following Dr. Cola's approach of "Old School/New School" this piece rises as a collaborative masterpiece in the college season. Though the language is not updated, which would often ruin the poetry of the piece, contemporary music and dance, particularly of the hip-hop genre, is leavened into the piece. As Dr. Cola acknowledges that the process was largely one of learning, running in both directions from New and Old schools, this learning has not failed to produce a product that rewards the audience.
Further, for the opening night performance of March 27th, the piece was accompanied by a reception (and I do not know a dramaturg who will turn down free food) with panel discussion regarding For Colored Girls' continued relevance and place in the African-American dramatic canon. For this discussion alone, it was worth braving the cramped, stuffy interior of Masquer's Chinese Theatre. Indeed, given the fact that the program is staged by an educational institution, I find it dismaying that this is not done more often. One of the prime purposes of drama in education, according to scholars as various as Thomas Gressler and Robert Corrigan, is to teach individuals a deeper understanding of themselves and their situation. By placing Shange's work in the broader context, and reflecting upon how it affected and still affects the panelists, an excellent opportunity was created for the students to explore their own past and the history of the African American. It is a communal experience and an attempt to tap into the communal history.
Anyone reading the script to Colored Girls will find themselves somewhat confused by
Shange's unconventional punctuation, yet the purpose is to break up the standard narrative rhythm into Shange's poetry. One thing that was disappointing was that the rhythm and verve of Shange's writing was not always embodied in voice or movement by the actors. Notable exceptions to this are a recitation by Dr. Cola, the director, herself and much of the material from Lady in Purple (Amber Jones). Here one can find Shange's writing used to its full extent to create the beat of the life of a black woman.
Notable in this production is the inclusion of the male roles in the play, as opposed to the women playing an entire ensemble. While the latter is the more traditional approach, Dr. Cola elected to cast and include male actors in those very roles. Doing so, I feel, was the wiser thing to do in this case on a few different grounds. Firstly, changing between roles quickly is a form of acting that requires a definite amount of talent for the actor involved, and it is a task which student actors are generally not capable of performing effectively (certain counterexamples, such as Will Mobley's performance of the Artful Dodger in SCAD's production of Oliver Twist notwithstanding). Further, from a less practical standpoint, there is the fact that African American men are a very real, very physical part of the lives of African American women. Including the men in the space physically helps to reflect this.
Clive Barnes of The New York Times wrote that this piece could have made him feel guilty about being white and male, and yet it didn't. Coming from a very similar standpoint, I must agree. Instead, the AASU Masquers have managed to construct and perform a canticle. A canticle that sings the praises of humanity, and makes it possible for WASPs to have black sisters.
Monday, March 24, 2008
The American National Theatre
The menagerie (not the Glass one, by the by), of theatrical beasts is many and varied. From the slumbering dragons of a dead-end, commercialized Broadway, with their witches, phantoms, and other critters, another unseemly beast is once again rearing its head. The ANT (American National Theatre), the dreaded ANT has once again returned to us. Indeed, it seems that it will take a theatrical Excalibur or Joyeuse to destroy this beast for good. If only we had a Parcival to wield it.
The current plan of the ANT, as founded by actor/producer Sean Cullen, is to pick and choose from among the finest of Regional Theatre productions every years, and then import those productions, with artistic teams intact, to a venue in New York. Indeed, this program has been applauded by folks such as Harold Prince, who wrote, "I think it's a wonderful idea, and that it's high time there was a formal program established that invited the best theaters we have in our country to its artistic capitol..." As such, the American National Theatre will essentially bring the best of what can be found throughout America to a New York audience.
While this may seem unequivocally a good thing to some, an understanding of the concepts of national theatres and their roles are required for a full understanding of precisely what is at stake here. Essentially, the concept of a national theatre is that of a theatrical group which sets the benchmark for quality and practice for an entire nation of people. Companies such as the Royal Shakespeare Company and Comedie Francais are excellent examples of such institutions. One thing that the current ANT lacks that usually marks a national theatre is the fact that the ANT will not be a production company, and will not originate works of its own, but instead merely provide a venue for the Regionals to bring their work to New York. Other national theatres, conversely, originate their own works and strive to bring them to the nation which they ostensibly serve.
Further, a little bit of history might be useful in consideration of the ANT. The ANT is an idea that has been circulated and pursued by the American theatrical community roughly since World War II. Back in the forties, under Rosamond Gilder or according to Porterfield and Breen, the plan was almost the polar opposite of the current one. A single production company would originate works and then tour them throughout the United States, bringing nationally recognized theatre to the corners of this nation. However, this plan never managed to materialize. However, commentators such as Brooks Atkinson of The New York Times, furthered calls for an ANT that would provide just such dissemination. However, this plan, as was noted before, never really grew legs, and as late as the 1980's, Robert Brustein made the comment that an ANT was uneccessary, as we had a perfectly serviceable national theatre in the form of the American Regional theatre system.
Which is something that The Savannah Dramaturgy heartily agrees with. If a theatre is to claim to be the national theatre, it should cater to the dramatic needs of that nation. While the United States has certain hurdles to overcome, massive size, commercial culture, and lack of common identity myths and just some of many. This difference in the texture of our nation, compared to the more homogenous European nations from whence we sprang, has been noted as far back the the Constitutional debates and is long remarked upon in Alexis de Tocqueville's masterwork, Democracy in America. There is no one American nation, but instead a multiplicity. However, the Regional system effectively overcomes these by bringing theatre to their localities. Celise Kalke, dramaturg at the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta, calls this concept, the theatre of place. By living life in their communities, a regional can more effectively tap into the heart and pulse of their place.
Indeed, in the words of Brustein, the ANT is simply a dry hole. Mr. Cullen, with the best of intentions no doubt, is spearheading a program of cultural imperialism. Us bumpkins from the far-flung provinces shall be given the right to worship at the epicenter, if the high priests are comfortable with it. Indeed, the ANT is just another excuse for New Yorkers to never leave their island. Sorry Mr. Prince, I have a national theatre down the street. It is called Cardinal Rep. If I want something bigger, the Alliance is a few hours drive. It is high time for something, all right... but I don't feel the need to come pay obeisance.
The current plan of the ANT, as founded by actor/producer Sean Cullen, is to pick and choose from among the finest of Regional Theatre productions every years, and then import those productions, with artistic teams intact, to a venue in New York. Indeed, this program has been applauded by folks such as Harold Prince, who wrote, "I think it's a wonderful idea, and that it's high time there was a formal program established that invited the best theaters we have in our country to its artistic capitol..." As such, the American National Theatre will essentially bring the best of what can be found throughout America to a New York audience.
While this may seem unequivocally a good thing to some, an understanding of the concepts of national theatres and their roles are required for a full understanding of precisely what is at stake here. Essentially, the concept of a national theatre is that of a theatrical group which sets the benchmark for quality and practice for an entire nation of people. Companies such as the Royal Shakespeare Company and Comedie Francais are excellent examples of such institutions. One thing that the current ANT lacks that usually marks a national theatre is the fact that the ANT will not be a production company, and will not originate works of its own, but instead merely provide a venue for the Regionals to bring their work to New York. Other national theatres, conversely, originate their own works and strive to bring them to the nation which they ostensibly serve.
Further, a little bit of history might be useful in consideration of the ANT. The ANT is an idea that has been circulated and pursued by the American theatrical community roughly since World War II. Back in the forties, under Rosamond Gilder or according to Porterfield and Breen, the plan was almost the polar opposite of the current one. A single production company would originate works and then tour them throughout the United States, bringing nationally recognized theatre to the corners of this nation. However, this plan never managed to materialize. However, commentators such as Brooks Atkinson of The New York Times, furthered calls for an ANT that would provide just such dissemination. However, this plan, as was noted before, never really grew legs, and as late as the 1980's, Robert Brustein made the comment that an ANT was uneccessary, as we had a perfectly serviceable national theatre in the form of the American Regional theatre system.
Which is something that The Savannah Dramaturgy heartily agrees with. If a theatre is to claim to be the national theatre, it should cater to the dramatic needs of that nation. While the United States has certain hurdles to overcome, massive size, commercial culture, and lack of common identity myths and just some of many. This difference in the texture of our nation, compared to the more homogenous European nations from whence we sprang, has been noted as far back the the Constitutional debates and is long remarked upon in Alexis de Tocqueville's masterwork, Democracy in America. There is no one American nation, but instead a multiplicity. However, the Regional system effectively overcomes these by bringing theatre to their localities. Celise Kalke, dramaturg at the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta, calls this concept, the theatre of place. By living life in their communities, a regional can more effectively tap into the heart and pulse of their place.
Indeed, in the words of Brustein, the ANT is simply a dry hole. Mr. Cullen, with the best of intentions no doubt, is spearheading a program of cultural imperialism. Us bumpkins from the far-flung provinces shall be given the right to worship at the epicenter, if the high priests are comfortable with it. Indeed, the ANT is just another excuse for New Yorkers to never leave their island. Sorry Mr. Prince, I have a national theatre down the street. It is called Cardinal Rep. If I want something bigger, the Alliance is a few hours drive. It is high time for something, all right... but I don't feel the need to come pay obeisance.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Mousetrap: Little Theatre of Savannah
The Little Theatre of Savannah, Savannah's oldest theatre group, presents Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap at the Seaboard Freight Station Theatre March 15-30. The piece, quintessential community theatre melodrama, has been performed with gusto and is an excellent example of ensemble playing at its best.
Allow me to say that, in his directorial debut, Mark Rand has managed to create an excellent sense of community among his players. Indeed, the ability to create a coherent ensemble is one of the prime skills required of a director, and it is one that Mr. Rand has performed ably. Further, The Savannah Dramaturgy applauds this activity, as it will be one of the first steps towards an indigenous and sustainable theatre community in Savannah.
As stated above, the script is classic community theatre melodrama. Ms. Christie manages to create a fairly suspenseful story, and yet there is little emotional depth, or even unity to the plot at the end of the day. The tale careens from beginning to end and attempts to take in concepts as wide as marital infidelity, murder, trickery, estranged families, and simple bad manners without treating any of them deeply at all. Further, the piece is not resolved by any real aspect of the plot, but by a suddenly revealed deus ex machina at the very end. While such pieces may be fun from time to time, I feel that Savannah would be better served by other fare. This is not to say that I am particularly opposed to melodrama, but there are better, and simply more unified melodramas. The works of Lillian Hellman, or many of the 19th Century American melodramas, such as Metamora might be helpful here.
A weak script, especially in the community theatre, places the burden of carrying the performance all the more on the actors. And, as is often the nature of community productions, they are often not up to carrying the extra weight. This production was marked especially by unfilled pauses. The ones coming from Giles Ralston (Brent Feasel) often seemed interminable in length and copious in number, and such pauses were quickly emulated by most of the cast to one degree or another.
However, this again goes to the nature of community theatre, and the state of theatre in Savannah generally. Given its amateur basis, all of these people have day jobs, please remember, actors cannot focus the same attention on their roles as professional, or even semi-professional actors can. As such, The Savannah Dramaturgy, issues a call to theatres, theatre supporters, and the cultural institutions of our city to help financially support our theatres.
Further, one can see in the set a certain lack of attention to detail that further bespeaks a lack of time on the part of our practitioners. Though the main room of the Monkswell Manor Guest House is ostensibly wood panelled, the set lacks faux finishing or painting detail to truly create the illusion, particularly in the intimate space of the Seaboard Freight Station. Again, such detail is a side effect of a group of artists who are able to spend their time focusing on their shows, as opposed to the myriad other concerns of the nine to five.
Though I point out limitations, this should not be seen, in any way, as a condemnation of the performance. Indeed, I find the ensemble effect, where even the flamboyant Chris Wren (Jeff Fuell) and oily, continental Mr. Paravicini (Jeroy Hannah) manage to remain on an equal footing with their more mundane counterparts, truly worthy of applause.
Allow me to say that, in his directorial debut, Mark Rand has managed to create an excellent sense of community among his players. Indeed, the ability to create a coherent ensemble is one of the prime skills required of a director, and it is one that Mr. Rand has performed ably. Further, The Savannah Dramaturgy applauds this activity, as it will be one of the first steps towards an indigenous and sustainable theatre community in Savannah.
As stated above, the script is classic community theatre melodrama. Ms. Christie manages to create a fairly suspenseful story, and yet there is little emotional depth, or even unity to the plot at the end of the day. The tale careens from beginning to end and attempts to take in concepts as wide as marital infidelity, murder, trickery, estranged families, and simple bad manners without treating any of them deeply at all. Further, the piece is not resolved by any real aspect of the plot, but by a suddenly revealed deus ex machina at the very end. While such pieces may be fun from time to time, I feel that Savannah would be better served by other fare. This is not to say that I am particularly opposed to melodrama, but there are better, and simply more unified melodramas. The works of Lillian Hellman, or many of the 19th Century American melodramas, such as Metamora might be helpful here.
A weak script, especially in the community theatre, places the burden of carrying the performance all the more on the actors. And, as is often the nature of community productions, they are often not up to carrying the extra weight. This production was marked especially by unfilled pauses. The ones coming from Giles Ralston (Brent Feasel) often seemed interminable in length and copious in number, and such pauses were quickly emulated by most of the cast to one degree or another.
However, this again goes to the nature of community theatre, and the state of theatre in Savannah generally. Given its amateur basis, all of these people have day jobs, please remember, actors cannot focus the same attention on their roles as professional, or even semi-professional actors can. As such, The Savannah Dramaturgy, issues a call to theatres, theatre supporters, and the cultural institutions of our city to help financially support our theatres.
Further, one can see in the set a certain lack of attention to detail that further bespeaks a lack of time on the part of our practitioners. Though the main room of the Monkswell Manor Guest House is ostensibly wood panelled, the set lacks faux finishing or painting detail to truly create the illusion, particularly in the intimate space of the Seaboard Freight Station. Again, such detail is a side effect of a group of artists who are able to spend their time focusing on their shows, as opposed to the myriad other concerns of the nine to five.
Though I point out limitations, this should not be seen, in any way, as a condemnation of the performance. Indeed, I find the ensemble effect, where even the flamboyant Chris Wren (Jeff Fuell) and oily, continental Mr. Paravicini (Jeroy Hannah) manage to remain on an equal footing with their more mundane counterparts, truly worthy of applause.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Foreword
There is something shameful in the city of Savannah. That particular shame is that in a city with at least half a dozen producing organizations, there is absolutely no dramatic criticism. There is plenty of theatre, but no substantive criticism in any of the newspapers or magazines that grace our fair city. Thus, I present The Savannah Dramaturgy.
When G.E. Lessing, the first dramaturg, first began working at the National Theatre in Hamburg, he was expected to act, essentially, as a press agent for that theatre by raising the profile with his published praise and, possibly more in the minds of his employers, name recognition. However, he instead assumed the role of public educator, giving fair critique of theatrical performance and aesthetics for his city.
Such is the nature of my own project here. I will not pretend to be an impartial observer of theatrical Savannah, because I am not. I have worked and will work with various theatres in and around the city for years to come. Instead, I will promise my honesty. Given my working with the theatre, I have a distinct knowledge of techniques and methods employed throughout the city, and I will make use of these. If the reader has a problem with my involvement, let them read elsewhere... go pick up a newspaper and see what good it will do.
Thus, the purpose of this work is not mere criticism. This is a part of it, yes. This is, above all, dramaturgy. And the dramaturg, whether Michael Lupu at the Guthrie in Minneapolis, Mark Bly at the Arena in Washington D.C., or Celise Kalke at the Alliance in Atlanta, must be interested and involved in their theatre for its betterment. The Savannah Dramaturgy is an integral part of the ongoing project to create a professional, artistic, and indigenous theatre community in the city of Savannah. After all, if a tourist trap like Hilton Head can support an Equity company, then Savannah can surely muster what it needs for a professional theatre.
When G.E. Lessing, the first dramaturg, first began working at the National Theatre in Hamburg, he was expected to act, essentially, as a press agent for that theatre by raising the profile with his published praise and, possibly more in the minds of his employers, name recognition. However, he instead assumed the role of public educator, giving fair critique of theatrical performance and aesthetics for his city.
Such is the nature of my own project here. I will not pretend to be an impartial observer of theatrical Savannah, because I am not. I have worked and will work with various theatres in and around the city for years to come. Instead, I will promise my honesty. Given my working with the theatre, I have a distinct knowledge of techniques and methods employed throughout the city, and I will make use of these. If the reader has a problem with my involvement, let them read elsewhere... go pick up a newspaper and see what good it will do.
Thus, the purpose of this work is not mere criticism. This is a part of it, yes. This is, above all, dramaturgy. And the dramaturg, whether Michael Lupu at the Guthrie in Minneapolis, Mark Bly at the Arena in Washington D.C., or Celise Kalke at the Alliance in Atlanta, must be interested and involved in their theatre for its betterment. The Savannah Dramaturgy is an integral part of the ongoing project to create a professional, artistic, and indigenous theatre community in the city of Savannah. After all, if a tourist trap like Hilton Head can support an Equity company, then Savannah can surely muster what it needs for a professional theatre.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)