It is with dismay that The Savannah Dramaturgy notes that much of the Congressional right-wing find the idea of arts funding something to give them the fits and blind staggers. The arts, evidently, are in no real need of stimulus from the government.
To answer Eric Cantor (R-VA) and Jack Kingston (R-GA) and their charges of "pork-barrel" spending in regards to the arts, The Savannah Dramaturgy has to ask how money to the NEA is any more pork barrel than highways, bridges, or ANY OTHER SPECIAL APPROPRIATION TO ANY OTHER INDUSTRY? To quote Rep. Kingston from the Boston Globe "We have real people out of work right now and putting $50 million in the NEA and pretending that's going to save jobs as opposed to putting $50 million in a road project is disingenuous." This begs the question, then, of why artists aren't "real people."
Assuming that Mr. Kingston is willing to admit that your average artist is a homo sapiens (which, while the vagaries commited by the current leadership of the Republican party are many, denial of this is far-fetched even for them), then one may make the safe assumption that Mr. Kingston is simply not interested in jobs for artists. One might tell such artists to simply "get real jobs." Jobs like, waiting tables or somesuch. And yet, certain bankers have produced no more tangible product than an actor... but nobody tells them to get real jobs.
And herein lies the rub. Harry Hopkins, aid to Franklin Roosevelt, was once asked about the hiring of thousands of artists during the Great Depression. He reportedly said, "Hell, they've got to eat like everyone else." I don't think that artists' dietary requirements have changed, but they are no longer considered professionals. We here at The Savannah Dramaturgy are all trained in our fields, and if our field was anything other than the arts... the concept that we were unable to find gainful employment in our field would be decried as sheer travesty by the right. I guess we simply need to start writing odes to the wisdom of Rush and O'Reilly if we are to get any support.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead: Cardinal Rep
"We're doomed from the start..." said Christopher Heady to Connect Savannah in the preview article to Cardinal Rep's February 2009 production of Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Though these words are not completely accurate in regards to Cardinal Rep's latest offering, they do hold an uncomfortable level of resonance.
The play, considered by many to be Stoppard's masterwork in a long and substantial career, centers around two benighted characters from the fringe of Shakespeare's masterwork, Hamlet. Originally charged by Claudius to find out Hamlet's intentions, and then to urge him in his past-times... they then find themselves carrying a letter to the King of England orderign Hamlet's execution. The letter is swapped out for one ordering their own execution. Yet throughout all of this, the machinations of the court remain outside of their control and understanding.
And it is here that the primary rub of this production comes into play, the idea of understanding. Mr. Stoppard's existential opus is a difficult and finicky show to pull off. Centered on the two doomed apparats, Rosencrantz (Christopher Soucy) and Guildenstern (Christopher John Heady) never graps what is happening to them. However, when one plays a lack of understanding it is all the more vital that the impression is given that the actors themselves do understand the stakes of their plight, lest the audience cease to care. Unfortunately, it never becomes clear that there is a real grasp of the show's fairly deep meaning.
Mr. Heady, as the generally more enlightened Guildenstern, has unfortunately found himself in a position that plays against his greatest strengths. Unforgetably entertaining and skilled in clowning, as per his performance of Sgt. Towser in Catch-22, he lacks oomph required to carry the "straight-man" in a comic duo. Interestingly, Abbott & Costello split their revenues not 50/50, but instead 60/40... with 60% going to Bud Abbott, the "straight man." Such divisions were considered natural, as it is generally acknowledged to be much harder to find a straight man to properly power a comic duo. And unfortunately, without its straight man, the duo of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern lacks the required dynamism to sustain this long and difficult show.
If the primary duo lacks needed vitality, the Player (Ryan McCurdy) and Tragedians charge the show with Pinteresque menace. Unfortunately, there are times where one finds oneself echoing Rosencrantz's statement of, "Somebody interesting might come on." Mr. McCurdy, resembling Jeroy Hannah charged with electricity and sincerity, makes abundantly clear the futility of a struggle to understand. The Player, backed by his company, who faintly resemble a bad LSD-trip induced by watching a Bill Irwin special, reinforces the existential angst felt by our primary pairing.
The cast, on all counts, performs with gusto and a will to please the audience. Indeed, as the Player points out, that is why such things exist. However, lacking central cohesion, one finds oneself grasping at straws in an attempt to get the jokes.
Despite this, one does find an effective design schema. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's earth-tones might allow them to be mistaken for furniture, but help to set off the almost jarring effect of the player company in Ms. Ariel Pellman's designs. The set, rickety scaffolding, is well used, and the music and sound by Myke Chapman and Ryan Brown help to set the stage well.
All else aside, Ms. Valerie Lavelle is to be congratulated on completing her directorial debut and Cardinal Rep on undertaking a difficult work. To complete Mr. Heady's comment to Connect, "...but we're making the most of our journey and keep going anyway." Perhaps truer words were never spoken. Ms. Lavelle and Cardinal Rep have dared something worthy, and the attempt itself is laudable.
The play, considered by many to be Stoppard's masterwork in a long and substantial career, centers around two benighted characters from the fringe of Shakespeare's masterwork, Hamlet. Originally charged by Claudius to find out Hamlet's intentions, and then to urge him in his past-times... they then find themselves carrying a letter to the King of England orderign Hamlet's execution. The letter is swapped out for one ordering their own execution. Yet throughout all of this, the machinations of the court remain outside of their control and understanding.
And it is here that the primary rub of this production comes into play, the idea of understanding. Mr. Stoppard's existential opus is a difficult and finicky show to pull off. Centered on the two doomed apparats, Rosencrantz (Christopher Soucy) and Guildenstern (Christopher John Heady) never graps what is happening to them. However, when one plays a lack of understanding it is all the more vital that the impression is given that the actors themselves do understand the stakes of their plight, lest the audience cease to care. Unfortunately, it never becomes clear that there is a real grasp of the show's fairly deep meaning.
Mr. Heady, as the generally more enlightened Guildenstern, has unfortunately found himself in a position that plays against his greatest strengths. Unforgetably entertaining and skilled in clowning, as per his performance of Sgt. Towser in Catch-22, he lacks oomph required to carry the "straight-man" in a comic duo. Interestingly, Abbott & Costello split their revenues not 50/50, but instead 60/40... with 60% going to Bud Abbott, the "straight man." Such divisions were considered natural, as it is generally acknowledged to be much harder to find a straight man to properly power a comic duo. And unfortunately, without its straight man, the duo of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern lacks the required dynamism to sustain this long and difficult show.
If the primary duo lacks needed vitality, the Player (Ryan McCurdy) and Tragedians charge the show with Pinteresque menace. Unfortunately, there are times where one finds oneself echoing Rosencrantz's statement of, "Somebody interesting might come on." Mr. McCurdy, resembling Jeroy Hannah charged with electricity and sincerity, makes abundantly clear the futility of a struggle to understand. The Player, backed by his company, who faintly resemble a bad LSD-trip induced by watching a Bill Irwin special, reinforces the existential angst felt by our primary pairing.
The cast, on all counts, performs with gusto and a will to please the audience. Indeed, as the Player points out, that is why such things exist. However, lacking central cohesion, one finds oneself grasping at straws in an attempt to get the jokes.
Despite this, one does find an effective design schema. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's earth-tones might allow them to be mistaken for furniture, but help to set off the almost jarring effect of the player company in Ms. Ariel Pellman's designs. The set, rickety scaffolding, is well used, and the music and sound by Myke Chapman and Ryan Brown help to set the stage well.
All else aside, Ms. Valerie Lavelle is to be congratulated on completing her directorial debut and Cardinal Rep on undertaking a difficult work. To complete Mr. Heady's comment to Connect, "...but we're making the most of our journey and keep going anyway." Perhaps truer words were never spoken. Ms. Lavelle and Cardinal Rep have dared something worthy, and the attempt itself is laudable.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Full Monty: Armstrong Atlantic State University
It is a story as old as time itself, a man loses his job and decides to take off all his clothes in order to make ends meet. Well, perhaps it is not that old of a story. It is, however, quite the story, and it is this story that the Armstrong Atlantic University Masquers tell in their production of The Full Monty this weekend under the direction of Benjamin Wolfe.
This show is not without some trouble. As with any musical spectacular, it is inherently heavy on technical aspects, which AASU seems to be attempting to cope with gamely. Further, though engaging and moving in his portrayal of Jerry Lukowski, Phil Parham simply lacks the pipes required for much of the difficult vocal work. While there is much to be said for being able to act through a song, yet there are times that the lack becomes glaring.
However, the cast deserves honours for their accomplishment. Jonas Boyd is delightful as the gauche Malcolm and John Martin carries the role of proto-Parkour enthusiast Ethan Girard to new heights. Indeed, each member of the act carries his insecurities on his sleeve in a way to build empathy with the audience without overtly jerking tears. Georgie Lukowski (Med Meadows) and Vicki Nichols (Brittany Brown) almost make their watchers envious of their deep affection for their husbands. Gail Byrd, as hardened pianist Jeanette Burmeister, inspires laughs and acts as the quintessential raissoneur for the budding Chippendales in waiting.
Mr. Wolfe does indeed have a show, and the cast performs with such goodwill that one is willing to overlook many of the flaws. The Full Monty (and full moon if there isn't a bit better timing on the ligth board) is definately worth a look.
This show is not without some trouble. As with any musical spectacular, it is inherently heavy on technical aspects, which AASU seems to be attempting to cope with gamely. Further, though engaging and moving in his portrayal of Jerry Lukowski, Phil Parham simply lacks the pipes required for much of the difficult vocal work. While there is much to be said for being able to act through a song, yet there are times that the lack becomes glaring.
However, the cast deserves honours for their accomplishment. Jonas Boyd is delightful as the gauche Malcolm and John Martin carries the role of proto-Parkour enthusiast Ethan Girard to new heights. Indeed, each member of the act carries his insecurities on his sleeve in a way to build empathy with the audience without overtly jerking tears. Georgie Lukowski (Med Meadows) and Vicki Nichols (Brittany Brown) almost make their watchers envious of their deep affection for their husbands. Gail Byrd, as hardened pianist Jeanette Burmeister, inspires laughs and acts as the quintessential raissoneur for the budding Chippendales in waiting.
Mr. Wolfe does indeed have a show, and the cast performs with such goodwill that one is willing to overlook many of the flaws. The Full Monty (and full moon if there isn't a bit better timing on the ligth board) is definately worth a look.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Love Letters: Little Theatre of Savannah
Put people at a desk and have them read to the audience. Could be a particularly bad university lecture, could be a revival of the work of Spalding Gray, or it could be The Little Theatre of Savannah's production of A.R. Gurney's Love Letters.
Though The Savannah Dramaturgy may be a touch behind on the coverage for this piece, there are still a number of things that bear stating about this particular evening of theatre. In essence, this production demonstrates the power of a stripped down piece. Two people, and they connect.
Though there were two casts who served on a rotating basis, this reviewer only managed to get in to see the combination of JinHi Soucy Rand and Mark Rand. These two actors have demonstrated, once again, the reason they have been reliably entertaining Savannah audiences under a variety of banners. Mr. Rand performs with the same warmth and charm that made it impossible to believe in his guilt in Cardinal Rep's recent production of Doubt. JinHi embodies the freewheeling spirit of the formerly WASPy artist Melissa to the point that she truly does dance, even while seated.
Though they move little, one thing that the audience cannot help but notice is their ability to react to one another as the turn the pages of the letters. As each letter is turned over (and they are ably read, but not obviously or glaringly so) we watch as Melissa and Andy steadily and gradually age from note-passing elementary schoolers to Senate and psychosis.
Though credited with having a director (Jeroy Hannah, who also played Andy on the alternate nights), this cast hardly needed one, carrying the day with innate grace and the ability to truly listen to one another that must only be born out of deep partnership. Despite a general lack of utility, Mr. Hannah's director's note from the program does manage to use a lot of big words.
Love Letters seems to be following in a rash of smaller, intimate shows from a variety of Savannah theatres. Much like Cardinal Rep's Laughing Wild, this gives us a chance to sit down with some of our talent. Though larger shows (Catch-22 or Wait Until Dark) rpovide opportunities for work, closet shows like this have a capability all their own.
Though The Savannah Dramaturgy may be a touch behind on the coverage for this piece, there are still a number of things that bear stating about this particular evening of theatre. In essence, this production demonstrates the power of a stripped down piece. Two people, and they connect.
Though there were two casts who served on a rotating basis, this reviewer only managed to get in to see the combination of JinHi Soucy Rand and Mark Rand. These two actors have demonstrated, once again, the reason they have been reliably entertaining Savannah audiences under a variety of banners. Mr. Rand performs with the same warmth and charm that made it impossible to believe in his guilt in Cardinal Rep's recent production of Doubt. JinHi embodies the freewheeling spirit of the formerly WASPy artist Melissa to the point that she truly does dance, even while seated.
Though they move little, one thing that the audience cannot help but notice is their ability to react to one another as the turn the pages of the letters. As each letter is turned over (and they are ably read, but not obviously or glaringly so) we watch as Melissa and Andy steadily and gradually age from note-passing elementary schoolers to Senate and psychosis.
Though credited with having a director (Jeroy Hannah, who also played Andy on the alternate nights), this cast hardly needed one, carrying the day with innate grace and the ability to truly listen to one another that must only be born out of deep partnership. Despite a general lack of utility, Mr. Hannah's director's note from the program does manage to use a lot of big words.
Love Letters seems to be following in a rash of smaller, intimate shows from a variety of Savannah theatres. Much like Cardinal Rep's Laughing Wild, this gives us a chance to sit down with some of our talent. Though larger shows (Catch-22 or Wait Until Dark) rpovide opportunities for work, closet shows like this have a capability all their own.
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