Review - Pipe Dream

I wanted to jot down a few thoughts about Encores’ current production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Pipe Dream.  Even though the show ran nearly 250 performances in 1955, the show was considered a flop and it certainly wasn’t one of the team’s favorites of their work (at least as far as what I've read).  But I’m glad I saw it, considering it hasn’t been seen in New York since its original run and I doubt it would ever have a major revival.

Based on John Steinbeck, Pipe Dream takes place on Cannery Row in Monterey.  There’s not much plot, per se, just a lot of ‘will they or won’t they’ tension between our leads, a marine biologist (played by Will Chase) and a gal of indeterminate profession (played by Laura Osnes).  Leslie Uggams plays a madam with a heart of gold; Tom Wopat is a Luther Billis-type character, and we meet other denizens of the flophouses and waterfront.

The show is perfectly pleasant, though a bit boring as well, since nothing really happens.  I realize the problem can partly be attributed to the cutting of the libretto for a concert version, but even the stuff that remains is kinda dull.  Seriously.  Nothing happens.  Doc meets Suzy, Fauna wants them to get together, two and a half hours later, Doc crawls through a pipe (get it?) and they do. 

Not that there’s anything exactly wrong with having very little plot.  If the characters were compelling, or something vaguely dramatic were happening, that would make up for it.  But…there isn’t.  It’s just kinda nice, sorta sweet, a bit charming, and fairly dull.  I mean, hello, you have a bordello.  Let’s spice it up a bit.  You can certainly see why this show doesn’t really rank with the top notch stuff from R & H.  And no one loves an R & H musical more than me.  In Pipe Dream, I think perhaps there are too many characters, so you can’t really get to know anyone.  And there are too many group numbers, which are most likely meant to provide the atmosphere, but don’t.  And the script is too vague about Suzy’s ‘profession.’  Clearly, she’s supposed to be working in Fauna’s brothel, but the text has been so watered down (it’s well-documented that Hammerstein had trouble writing for the lowlifes in this piece), it just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

The cast is very good, though, and there IS some lovely music, especially Suzy’s “Everybody’s Got a Home But Me” and Doc’s “All at Once You Love Her.”  Oh, and the duet between Fauna and Suzy is gorgeous.  Some of the music, though, sounds like a first-draft to Carousel.  Will Chase and Laura Osnes are appealing and attractive and sing beautifully.  If their acting isn’t quite setting the world on fire, well, neither are their characters, though a little subtext from the two of them might have been helpful.  Leslie Uggams kicks some butt and looks fantastic.  Tom Wopat was fine.  The guy playing Doc’s other best pal was way overplaying the ‘dimwitted-guy-with-a-heart-of-gold-and-maybe-he’s-smart-after-all’ kind of thing.  And why he has a solo in the second act is beyond me (clearly I realize this isn't the actor's fault).  Philip Hernandez was terrific as Joe and I would’ve liked to have seen more of him.   I think the show has been directed to move at too stately a pace (a little more oomph would’ve been fun) and the choreography, while interesting, looked a little too stylish for these decidedly un-stylish people.  Was that what they were going for?  I guess it didn’t work for me.

So…sorry, blah blah blah.  It’s not a great show, but I think it’s still worth a look.  City Center is lovely, hearing a full orchestra play Richard Rodgers music is always a treat, and Will Chase and Laura Osnes are pretty to look at and listen to.  There are worse ways to spend your time.  J

**six years ago, I reviewed the Lincoln Center revival of Awake and Sing, which I loved; two years ago, it was Time Stands Still, which I also loved.  I adore Donald Margulies... 



Happy Birthday to Me!

(of course, this post is via auto-post.  I think you'll notice as you read that I wouldn't take the time to do all this work on my actual birthday...lol)

Growing up, my family always made a big deal out of our birthdays (they still do!).  We had a party every year, though rarely were they parties with school chums.  Just my cousins and other family members.  Why?  One, we didn't have a lot of money back then for party stuff; two, my mom considered school chums a necessary evil but didn't really want to have them around; and three, my birthday almost always fell over my school's spring break, so kids just weren't in town.  I can count on one hand the number of non-family-centric birthday parties I had in the past.  I can also count on one hand the number of birthdays spent in school so I could receive dozens of birthday wishes during the school day.  Wah.

All of the above is a bunch of pseudo-psychobabble blah blah blah explaining why I feel the need to celebrate my birthday for at least a month and throw myself a big hairy party every year FOR MY OWN SELF.  :)  I love my birthday!  And I love having everyone around me love my birthday!  I've learned to live with it.  So should you.

This year, though, I'm having a nice dinner with my four best friends.  Because, in the big scheme of things, who really needs more than that??  I mean, even I get tired of planning big 'celebrate me' extravaganzas.  But I'm still toying with saving my pennies for a huge blow out for the big five-oh in 2014.  Mark your calendars now.  In the meantime, here are some blasts from my birthday past (clearly, my 'awkward' phase lasted a really long time).  Everyone celebrate!  Celebrate spring AND my birthday!  Viva me!  [lol]

Spring-y miscellany...

Spring is finally sprung!  Even though the weather last winter wasn't that bad, it's still nice to officially be in spring.  I'm making myself get outside and walk during lunch, which exhausts me because I'm so out of shape, yet it makes me happy.  Here are a couple photos from my wanderings.

Last week, a wackadoodle decided to sit on the street light pole down in Times Square.  I had the perfect vantage point to watch the whole thing go down.  At first, I was terrified he was going to fall, but eventually, so many policemen were around him, and so many hooks were attached to him, I stopped worrying and started wondering why in the heck someone would perch themselves on a light pole.  He didn't seem to be shouting anything, or trying to sell anything.  It was strange.  It took all those policemen at least a half hour to get the guy down, then it took them another ten minutes or so to completely wrap him up (I'm not sure if they put him in a straitjacket or not) and shimmy the stretcher into the police van.  I took lots of pictures, felt vaguely guilty about it, but kept a few to post.  A friend suggested I do a post just about the wacky things I see outside my office.  I'll go through old photos and see what I can find.  I know for sure I have some photos from the field goal kicking contest and from the rodeo (?!).  And some tennis.  Look for that post down the road.  I may even try to do some sort of "a day from my office window" kind of thing and take a picture once an hour.  Again, we'll see.  :)  In the meantime, here's the wackadoodle.

This week had two annoying medical appointments.  Wednesday morning, I returned to the dentist for the first time in two years.  Sorry if that grosses you out.  In 2010, I had repeated staph infections that kept coming back no matter how many antibiotics I took. It was depressing.  My dermatologist recommended I wait to go to the dentist until all that was cleared up.  Then, of course, in 2011, I had the Great Breast Saga, and Dr Vera Wang asked me to hold off on dental work until she was finished.  After the holidays, I started noticing a little tooth pain, so I finally screwed my courage to the sticking place and, after getting approval from Dr Vera Wang,  found a dentist that both took my insurance and was nearby my office.  Quick digression: I have ALWAYS hated going to the dentist.  I mark it back to when I was a child and our family dentist ridiculed me for having watery eyes during a procedure.  The creep.  Ever since then, I've felt embarrassment and shame at the dentist.  I finally found a nice dentist (whose name was Dr Dennis, believe it or not) and I went to him for years.  In fact, even after I moved to New York, I still went to him when I went home for a visit.  Finally, I decided I needed a local guy.  I went once to a jerk in the Empire State Building.  He (and his staff) let me leave the office with blood all over my face. Nice.  I looked like a vampire or a cannibal.  Then I went to an older gent near my former eye doctor.  He was nice enough, then he retired, in early 2010, and things went downhill from there. 

Anyway, Wednesday.  I was a little nervous, walking west west west on 41st Street, but the building turned out to be fine.  After filling out some forms, I waited in the extremely spartan waiting room, alongside a man who was very unhappy he was waiting.  Every person that went back before him caused much sighing, eye rolling and near-clutching of chest.  I almost told my guy to take this poor man first before he had a stroke.  Almost.  I was taken to the x-ray room by a very nice young technician.  After he read my chart, he decided I needed to have two of the lead aprons they put on you during the x-rays.  I told him that the 'girls' were fake (TMI?) and I probably didn't need two aprons, but he wanted to be safe.  Um, ok.  After the x-rays, I went in and met Dr Doogie Howser, my dentist.  He can't be more than 12 years old.  He was very pleasant, was very upbeat and showed me the error of my gums' ways.  He asked me what kind of music I liked, so I could be relaxed while he worked.  I told him the relaxed ship had sailed, thanks, but classical music would probably be nice.  (side note: at one point, I noticed some of the music from Schindler's List.  it did NOT relax me)  I asked him if anyone ever chose rock music, because it seemed to me a 'beat' would be weird, and he said, in fact, 80s music was very popular and he thought that was fun.  I said, 'well, for you guys, it's retro and fun; for me, it was my childhood.'  He laughed and said he wasn't that young!  I said, 'oh yes you are.  By the way, I have hot flashes.  Just to warn you.'  I think he and the very nice young tech were scared of me.

He did a cleaning, which was very painful, then afterward he pointed out all the procedures I would probably need moving forward.  Sigh.  Figures.  I have finally paid off all my medical bills from last year and now I'll have to start paying dental bills.  I'm still trying to suss out how I want to proceed, though I am having a small cavity filled next week.  I wonder if he'll be happy, because when I left, he said it was nice to meet me and he hoped I came back.  Did he think I would dump him because he's too young for me?  ;)

This morning, I had a follow-up with Dr Pay in Advance.  Thankfully, before the appointment, I stopped in a local diner for a little breakfast.  The waitress there was very sweet and cheerful and lifted my mood.  Waiting two hours for Dr Pay in Advance?  My mood wilted.  I was ticked.  I should've left after an hour.  So I guess I'm partly to blame, but...grrrrr.  How about a seat neighbor in doctor's office waiting room report??  The woman sitting across from me apparently called her g.p. or someone from her seat and complained that she had been kept waiting for a half hour (she was seeing someone other than Dr Pay in Advance) and that showed a lack of respect.  I thought, gee, sister, you haven't come here often, have you.  She yelled into her phone a little more.  Immediately after she hung up, an office underling came out to talk to her.  So the g.p. must've called that other doctor's office and told them there was a postal woman in the waiting room.  They had a long conversation that ended with Postal Woman deciding to stay, just this once.  After that monumental decision had been reached, in walked two women with NO concept of indoor voice.  They sat behind me, and talked at the top of their lungs, mainly about how nauseated they were.  Because of their sinuses.  And if only they didn't have lunch plans, they could've had pizza before their appointment, because tomatoes cure nausea.  The smoothie with carrots and ginger wasn't working!  And could this waiting room be any hotter?  Do you think somebody drowned Whitney Houston on purpose?  OMG.  On and on and on.  I almost became postal.  This drove Postal Woman over the edge and she left without seeing her new doctor.  God only knows how that will turn out.  Five more minutes of Miss and Miss Nauseated Outdoor Voice would've sent me out of the room, too, but I luckily finally got called in to see Dr Pay in Advance.  Two hours late, but whatever.  She told me nothing new.  Again.  So glad I pay her in advance for this stuff.  Though she did order some blood work, to see if anything is happening with those five errant cells she's worried about.  She also suggested I have my fibroids looked at, because she's just really hot for me to have my ovaries out.  And she told me I'll need to have an MRI in January, to check out the implants.  Blah blah blah.  We could've e-mailed.  Whatever.  She did ask me when I'm going to be on another game show.  I need to work on that...

To end this post on a happy note, I had a glorious dinner last night with a dear gal pal and we ate at Bryant Park Grille.  It was a beautiful evening, the food was delicious, the wine was better, and my dear gal pal was the best.  So, I am now throwing out all thoughts of postal women, nauseated loudmouths and prepubescent dentists and thinking of the fun I had last night with my pal.  Plus, I'm happy that I have some of that delicious pasta leftover for tonight.  Something to look forward to.  Enjoy the photos from Bryant Park.  To finish, I will loosely quote Bill Finn: I feel so much spring within me... :)

 

Review - Painting Churches

Last night, I finally made it to Theatre Row to see Tina Howe’s Painting Churches.  First, may I just say, I think Tina Howe is one of the most criminally underappreciated playwrights in America.  Thank you.  Second, I’d like to applaud the Keen Company for giving such respect to the works of writers we might not ordinarily see enough of, like Tina.  Third, knowing Tina even a little bit has added to my enjoyment of seeing her plays, because I can just hear her saying these lines and it makes me smile.  These characters immediately become real people to me.  There, ok, got that stuff off my chest.  Sorry for the name-dropping.  And is photo-dropping worse than name-dropping?  Sorry again.  Moving on. 

In my opinion, the play itself is, in a word, gorgeous.  This production isn’t quite.  Tina uses realism, absurdism, whimsy and pathos in equal measures.  It’s quite amazing the balance the script achieves.  In this particular production, though, I think the director needed a lighter touch (the staging seemed clunky in spots and even the original musical score played between scenes felt too heavy to me) and I really felt like one of the actors just couldn’t bring themselves to the level of the other two.

Kathleen Chalfant (who can do no wrong, as far as I’m concerned) and John Cunningham play an aging WASP-y couple, packing up their mansion to move to a smaller cottage on Cape Cod for reasons that will become more clear as the evening progresses.  Kate Turnbull is their artist daughter, come from NY to help them pack and to finally paint a portrait of her parents.  There are also many wounds to heal, secrets to learn and sadnesses to face. 

As you may remember, I am especially partial to plays about art and artists, and adding family matters into the equation only makes a play automatically more interesting to me.  Painting Churches beautifully uses a (supposedly) outdated art form (portraiture painting) to explore the family dynamic.  The way these characters deal with each other is almost like watching an artist stand an arms-length away from their easel.  One thing or another keeps the daughter from her painting, but once we finally get to the sitting for the portrait, it’s almost unbearably heartbreaking.  When Kathleen Chalfant says to her daughter that she is looking at her parents for her own gain, but she isn’t really SEEING them, it’s incredibly moving. 

There are several beautiful monologues, expressing love and poetry and pain.  Chalfant and Cunningham deliver their speeches exquisitely.  And Chalfant is especially stirring when she’s reacting to Cunningham’s poetry.  You see the years of their love flit across her face, along with the underlying sadness about what her life has become.  Cunningham is beautifully flamboyant AND understated (hard to do, I’m thinking!) as his character’s literary star is fading into dementia.  Turnbull, unfortunately, does not do as good a job with her role.  I just don’t think she’s up to the depth of the subtext in the language.  Her monologues came off to me as petulant diatribes instead of deeply felt cries of pain.  And the beautiful way that Tina has mirrored the parents’ emotional elusiveness with the daughter’s obliviousness is sort of lost on this actress.  Unfortunately.

I feel like this review makes no sense, so sorry for that.  I wish that this production lived up to Tina’s script, but, ah well.  You should go see it anyway.  Let people know we want more Tina Howe!!! 

Oh, and an annoying audience member report:  the gal sitting next to me did her grocery shopping before coming to the theater.  So, all through the evening, all I could smell was the nearly overpoweringly strong aromas of onion and garlic from her bags on the floor.  Seriously, people.  Shop afterwards?

Next weekend, I’m off to Humana Fest (please, theater gods, let these shows be good!), but first I’ll see the second musical in this year’s Encores series, Pipe Dream.  I’m very excited to see it, though now that Smash has sort of ruined Will Chase for me, it will be hard to enjoy him as the romantic lead… ;)

**five years ago, I reviewed BFF, by a former DG Fellow (I liked it - I wonder if it's having a life in the regions); four years ago, I reviewed Fight Girl Battle World, by a former co-worker's husband.  Lots of formers...

Scusi, please. I have a one-track mind...

So, I've been having the same dream over several nights lately - in the dream, I've rented a villa in Tuscany for my 50th birthday, and several friends join me for a vacation there.  Clearly, I need to start saving my pennies, since my subconscious is telling me to get the heck out of dodge and into bella Italia in 2014!  Good thing I'm still on a mailing list for Italian villa rentals!  Of course, on the reality scale, I also have a gentleman friend in the dream, so perhaps I should be taking the dreaming/planning with a grain of salt...

Anyway, when my friends and I got back from our Italian adventure in 2007, I made my first forays into online posting - I did some trip reports for Trip Advisor.  Since I had used their message forum quite a bit for ideas and advice, I figured it only fair to post what worked (and what didn't) for me.  Just for fun, and to get more Italian hopefulness out into the universe, I'm going to reprint below my trip report for our first day (and a half) in Rome.  Hope I didn't screw anything up!  Most of the pictures are mine, but a few of them were taken by a beloved gal pal with a much better camera and way more genius in the photography area.  Let me know if you want to see the reports from our other day in Rome, not to mention our travels to Naples, Sorrento, Capri, Pompeii or Positano.  To loosely quote a Golden Girl, picture it: Rome, over Thanksgiving, 2007...

TRIP REPORT - ROME

After winning a game show (definitely a story for another day) I recently went with three friends on a 10-day holiday to Rome, Naples and Sorrento.  It was a fabulous trip and I apologize in advance if these reports are too long-winded.

We decided to travel in the off-season, so our plane departed JFK on the night before Thanksgiving.  The flights were easy peasy, with moderately tasty food on all planes.  Our layover at Heathrow was long-ish, but not too bad.  I didn't get a lot of sleep, since I was so excited!  Luckily, the first flight was playing The Apartment as their movie!  You can't miss with Billy Wilder!  FYI, my only other trip to Europe was in 2000, when I went to Paris, Amsterdam and Bruges with a guy who was not a good travel partner.  I don't know, I guess you don't find that kind of thing out until you actually travel with someone.  Thankfully, my Italian Adventure Pals and I meshed well throughout the entire trip, which made an already dream-like trip even more dreamy!  :)

When we arrived in Rome, it was early evening and we were tired.  We exchanged money at the exchange booth near the baggage claim.  We got a very bad rate there, so we’ll never do that again.  One of our bags was lost en route, so we spent a lot of time dealing with that.  I have to say, though, the baggage attendants were very pro-active and helpful.  And handsome.  Il mio dio, the men in Italy were attractive.  And we haven't left the airport yet.  Whew.  Moving on.  We were staying at the apartment affiliated with the Hotel Italia and I had also signed up for a car pick-up through them, since there were four of us.  Two of our party went ahead through customs to meet the driver while the other two of us dealt with the baggage problem, since we discovered the international Blackberry we brought didn’t work and no one could call us to find out where we were!  But all turned out well—the driver was waiting for us when we all finally straggled through.

The driver spent most of the ride on his cell phone, which was a little disappointing, but since it was dark, we couldn’t really see anything anyway.  The minivan he drove was very comfortable and he drove quickly and confidently.  Thankfully, we didn’t start off with an Italian thrill ride in the car!

In no time we arrived at our apartment on Via della Cava Aurelia, near the Vatican.  We were met by Andrea, the caretaker of the apartment.  He was very kind and spent quite a good deal of time with us, giving us a map and showing us the layout of the city.  It was a nice way to be introduced to Rome.  He recommended the restaurant down the street from the apartment, so off we went. 

The neighborhood we stayed in was very quiet and very secluded, but was also very safe because it was in a gated community alongside a Russian Embassy.  So that was a nice bonus for us.  The restaurant, Ristorante Barone, was great.  It seemed to be all locals, mainly there to use the free wi-fi.  Our waiter was very patient with our fledging Italian and suggested several local specialties for dinner.  The food was AMAZING!  We knew it would be, but hello, that doesn't mean you can't be gobsmacked by good food all the same.  We purchased a bottle of the house red to take back to the apartment with us and called it a night.  No better way to start a trip that will include much wine drinking with a little...wine drinking.  Oh, and the first kerfuffle with using a pay telephone to try to call my mother occurred before dinner.  It became quite a joke how I couldn't make an Italian phone work.  :( 

Our first morning in Rome—we went to a café near the apartment and had our first cappuccinos and pastries of the trip.  They definitely weren’t the last!  And may I just say how thrilling it was to make a right turn off our street and get a view of St. Peter’s!  We loved that view!   I had booked an official Vatican guided tour about a month before we left.  I’m glad we did, because the line to get in the museum was quite long.  Our tour was for 10:30am, so we arrived at the tour entrance at around 10:15 (it took us much longer to get all the way around to the entrance than we thought).  One of our first fun Italian interactions:  it was confusing as to which line was for people with confirmed Vatican tours and which was the regular main entrance.  So, I asked a gent in a guard’s uniform.  He very gravely looked at me and said in an extremely bass voice, “Please.  Don’t talk to me.  Talk to him.”  All with a great Italian accent.  We had much fun the rest of the trip repeating THAT phrase!  Anyway, we finally figured it out and got in. 

The tour itself was wonderful and our tour guide, Christiano, was a delight.  The museum was lovely and Christiano was a charming guide.  At the beginning of the tour, we're heading up an escalator and Christiano started his explanation of the art in the Sistine Chapel to us, since he wouldn't be joining us for that part of the tour.  There is a small replica of Michelangelo's ceiling at the top of the escalator, and Christiano took quite a bit of time explaining it all to us.  Another of our favorite phrases that got repeated throughout our trip?  "We go to hell now, ciao, ciao."  And that is how we had the Last Judgement section of the artwork explained to us.  :)    Christiano also gave us permission to use the term Mamma Mia whenever we entered an especially beautiful room in the museum.  He was a charmer.  After viewing all of the gorgeous art in the museum, it was awe-inspiring to finally see the Sistine Chapel in person.  Before heading into the Sistine Chapel, Christiano also gave us some advice for sites we should see before we left Rome, and he also made us promise to drink some white wine when we got to Campania.  We, of course, took all of his suggestions, since we were all half in love with him by the end of our tour.  Maybe even more than half...

Of course, it was then monumentally thrilling to be in St. Peter's Basilica.  The Pieta took my breath away (of course, none of MY photos turned out well here).  We took our time, looking at nearly everything, and tried to remember everything that Christiano had taught us while we looked around.  It was an amazing morning.  

After buying some souvenirs in the basilica gift shop (Christmas presents purchased, yay!), and sending some mail from the Vatican Post Office, we headed out to find some lunch.  We settled on a pizza rustica shop in the Borgo and I had a delicious slice of pizza with prosciutto.  I couldn’t get enough proscuitto on this trip.  It was just so delicious, I believe I had it every day.  The rest of the day was spent just wandering through Rome and heading towards monuments when we felt like it.  We wandered through Piazza Navona, toured the Pantheon, did some window shopping, threw coins into Trevi Fountain and marveled from the top and bottom of the Spanish Steps.  It was lovely not having any real itinerary so that we could look at whatever caught our fancy.  And lots of things caught our fancy!  There was so much to look at, we didn’t know where to start!

By the end of our wanderings, we were starting to feel tired, so we caught the metro near the Spanish Steps and got off at the St. Peter’s Square stop.  We loved joking that we had to walk through St. Peter’s to get to the subway!  But it was such a lovely walk, day or night, that we did it every time we rode the subway, even though we probably could’ve used a different stop. 

We had dinner in our neighborhood again, at the Osteria dei Pontefici.  There was a group of Spanish soccer fans there causing a ruckus, which was fun, and our food was again delicious.  My gnocchi was so light, it was out of this world.  No photos of the gnocchi, unfortunately.  Unsurprisingly, we slept well after so much history, walking and good food!!  J

Favorite of the favorites

Having mentioned recently that Death of a Salesman is one of my top five favorite plays, I started to think, wait, what ARE my actual Top 5?  Really, what would they be?  There are SO many choices, it's hard to narrow it down.  I've seen a lot of plays over my lifetime.  But I came up with six, right off the bat.  Just say no to five!  [lol]  Anyway, these are the plays I could see anytime, anywhere.  And, in fact, I have.  High schools, libraries, community theaters.  We're even talking versions with marionettes.  :)  Then I started to think about a list of contemporary plays, since my Top 6 consists of, well, not-exactly-contemporary plays.

btw, none of these are in any particular order...

My Top Six Plays

The Glass Menagerie
Macbeth
Death of a Salesman
A Delicate Balance
The Crucible
Miss Julie

My Top Six Contemporary Plays

Side Man
Proof
Doubt
Six Degrees of Separation
Fences
Prelude to a Kiss

Then, of course, because I'm me, I had to think of a list of musicals.  Since every list I came up with had mostly Sondheim, I decided to do a Sondheim list and a non-Sondheim list.  That seemed only fair... ;)

Top Six Non-Sondheim Musicals

South Pacific
Once On This Island
La Cage aux Folles
Chicago
Fiddler on the Roof
Gypsy (ok, this is cheating.  Sondheim is involved.  sue me.  it's my list.)

AND

Top Six By Sondheim

Sweeney Todd
Sunday in the Park with George
Assassins
Pacific Overtures
Passion
Follies

Want my reasons?  Ask.  But, you know, if I wrote this post tomorrow, the lists would probably be completely different.  There are so many plays/musicals swirling through my head, telling me to put them on the list.  Where is Horton Foote?  Lanford Wilson?    Wendy Wasserstein?  Tom Stoppard?  Charles Busch?  Eugene O'Neill?  Bill Finn?  Comden & Green?  Berlin?  Gershwin?  But...not today.  :)

Review - Hurt Village

Last night, I went with a co-worker to see Katori Hall’s new play Hurt Village at the happening new Signature space.  I think this particular theater, which is called The Linney, is my favorite space there.  It’s more a black box, could be used in-the-round, though this production only seats on three sides (but the action takes place all around).  It’s the perfect space for this play, I think, because you really need to feel inside of the locale to get inside the characters who live there.  The play takes place in Memphis, in a neighborhood they call the Hurt Village, which is a housing project that is scheduled for demolition.  At the top of the play, our main characters are getting ready to move to a more middle-class neighborhood elsewhere.  Their thwarted dreams of getting out of the projects are what drives the action.

You may remember I saw Katori’s other play in NY this season, The Mountaintop, and enjoyed bits and pieces of it, but didn’t really think it worked on the whole.  I have to admit I feel mainly the same way about Hurt Village, though I think I preferred this play to Mountaintop as a play.  But, as a theatrical experience, I think I respected it more than I enjoyed it.  Of course, my enjoyment may not have been her first concern.  J    I feel like a lot of it is terrifically exciting and pulsing, but it still feels a little surface-y and on the nose in places to me.  There are too many scenes which say the same thing, and that keeps the energy from continually moving forward.  I also think it’s directed at such a high and frenetic pace that it’s practically impossible to be pulled in emotionally.  It may have been directed that way to provide the forward motion that’s missing in the script and I do realize that the desperate situations these characters are in can justify the volume, but at the same time, a variance in the scale of what the actors are doing could go a long way.

The dialogue, however, is strong and you really get a sense of who these people are by how they talk.  I will admit that the scenes with rapping were hard for me to understand the dialect, though Joey says it was spot-on (he’s lived in Memphis).  And the casual use of the f-word and the n-word, though completely understandable in the context of this play, has a battering quality that numbs you.  And maybe that’s the purpose of it.  I don’t know.

The actors are all terrific, especially our lead gal, Joaquina Kalukango.  She plays 13-year-old Cookie, who is trying to figure out her place in the world.  She captures all of the uncertainty and bravado of youth brilliantly.  Marsha Stephanie Blake as her mother is very moving as a recovering addict, jealous of the daughter who is leaving her behind, though I’m not sure the character quite earned her beautiful monologue in the second act (but the actress delivers it exquisitely).  Tonya Pinkins plays the great-grandmother and is her usual terrific self, though, again, bringing it down a little might not be such a bad idea.  I had a hard time understanding her screaming at a few points in the beginning of the play.  However, her monologue in the second act was devastatingly heartbreaking.  Saycon Sengbloh as the frenemy neighbor was a riot at the start and more layered and interesting by the end.

I think the female characters appear to more advantage than the gents, who seem to be less complicated and more ‘types’.  But the actors are just as committed and strong.  It was nice to see one of my longtime favorites, Ron Cephas Jones, bring many layers and subtleties to what could be a stereotypical drug dealer kingpin role.

So, I guess I would sum with I think Katori Hall is a writer to keep an eye on, though I haven’t been completely sold on the first two plays of hers that I’ve seen.  But, unlike other writers I could name, I think there’s something of interest in what she’s doing and she’s at least striving to say something of value.  In my opinion, of course.  Your mileage may vary.

**five years ago, I saw Spalding Gray: Stories Left to Tell and King Lear (starring Kevin Kline); three years ago:  Happiness, by my hero John Weidman and, oh, some other guys...; two years ago: Kia Corthron's A Cool Dip in the Barren Saharan Crick; last year: Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (the first show after the looooooong surgical break).  I think I need to figure out how to archive stuff...

Review - Death of a Salesman

I was very fortunate last night – a friend called with an extra ticket to Death of a Salesman and asked if I’d like to join him.  Uh, yes!  I love the play so much, it’s definitely in my top five favorite plays of all time (oooo, blog post idea!  top five favorite plays of all time!).  However, I don’t generally love Philip Seymour Hoffman, I thought the last play I saw that was directed by Mike Nichols was a mess, plus I ADORED the last revival of Salesman with Brian Dennehy and Kevin Anderson, so I was hesitant about buying a ticket.  Voila!  Problem avoided!  J

 Well, the play is still brilliant.  The three hours FLEW by.  I was moved, as I always am, but in many different places this time.  I think the older you get, the more the play resonates with you.  Well, hello, you can probably say that about any beloved work you see several years apart.  But, anyway, I still found new things to marvel at during this production and enjoyed myself quite a lot.  It’s thoroughly well-acted and well-directed.  I think it’s genius to be using the original 1949 set design by Jo Mielziner and score by Alex North.  They lend a timeless quality to the piece, which adds a layer of poignancy to the whole evening. 

HOWEVER.  Sigh.  I hate to have a however.  But I do.  And here it is, for what it’s worth. 

I think the entire cast is at least a decade too young to be doing this show.   Sometimes, it seemed like a glorified MFA project on stage.  Perhaps if Miller wasn’t so continually specific about ages, it wouldn’t matter, but when the script keeps harping about ages 34 and 63, well...  Normally, I don’t care about age – just give me a good performance and I’ll go with it.  But here, I just couldn’t wrap my brain around these people as people  They mainly seemed like actors play-acting.  They did a good job of it, don’t get me wrong, but it did ultimately bother me.  Philip Seymour Hoffman is 42-ish.  So, in the flashback scenes, we’re good to go, but when he’s ‘playing’ 63, you didn’t see the lifetime of exhaustion in his bones.  You just saw a guy shuffling his feet and trying to seem older than he is.  At least that’s what I saw.  Now, there were some moments that were magical and tragic, and Hoffman’s interactions with his brother Ben were terrific (John Glover is a GOD), but he never looked to me like the father of two 30-somethings and certainly didn’t look like someone so dragged down by selling for over 30 years that he was desperate for a desk job and a rest.  

photo credit: Brigitte Lacombe

Andrew Garfield may be 29 in real life, but to me, he looks eighteen.  So, again, in flashback, yay, but in the penultimate scene?  When he’s yelling “I’m a dime a dozen, pop!”?  I just thought, well, when you go back to college next week, you’ll be fine.  He just came off as so young, and not beaten.  I always hate to compare performances or previous productions, but I couldn’t help thinking back to the heartbreak of that scene with Kevin Anderson and Brian Dennehy.  That was a middle-aged man completely breaking down and begging to be seen.  Here, truly, it was a needy kid looking for acceptance.  Which, yes, Biff ultimately is, but the kid has to be inside a man.  And I didn’t see that in Garfield’s performance.  Again, it was a fine, well-thought-out performance, just…wrong.  For me.

Linda Emond is, as always, terrific.  Her sudden explosions at her sons were amazing, and the way she helped Willy with his coat, on and off and on and off, was really heartbreaking.  You could feel her deep love and complete commitment to Willy throughout.  And I liked the physical contrast between her and Molly Parker, who played the mistress (Parker was also quite fine).  The boy playing Happy, Finn Whitrock, was extremely good and really captured the second-son syndrome of the character.  The guy playing Charley, Bill Camp, was terrific, as were Fran Kranz as Bernard and Remy Auberjonois as Howard.  Fun note: we were sitting next to Remy’s dad, Rene Auberjonois.  He smelled good.  And we giggled over having better seats than Mandy Patinkin.  Which is immature, but oh well.  Perhaps we were a decade too young as well.  ;)

Oh, heck, everyone was good, it was good, I love the play.  I just didn’t have my heart broken.  That’s why you see Death of a Salesman, isn’t it?  To have your heart broken?  (in the good theatrical way, of course)   But I was touched, everyone had moments of loveliness, just not as many as I would’ve liked.  And maybe that’s my problem and not theirs.  Expectations can be a b*tch.  The show opens tonight, so I’m prepared to read that this is the definitive production of Salesman and none need ever be presented again…

**Five years ago, I saw Talk Radio (Liev Schreiber was fantastic - when is he coming back to Broadway??; four years ago, it was Caryl Churchill's Drunk Enough to Say I Love You, which was 45 searing minutes of America-bashing.  I found it thrilling, but the people behind me wanted their money back...

By the time I get to Phoenix...

Of course, whenever I sang that song last weekend, the way-too-young officemate who joined us on the for-work jaunt would look at me quizzically, since he had never heard of Glen Campbell before.  Sigh.  Sometimes, I feel SO old.

Anyway, last weekend I made my first-ever trip to Phoenix, for work.  We saw a student production, had some seminars and met some local playwrights.  I think it went really well.  Next time I go to Phoenix, though, I want to stay for more than 36 hours.  I would've liked to have actually SEEN the city, rather than just the airport, the rental car, the hotel or the theater space.  There were great streets with quirky fun shops we never got to, not to mention the mountains and parks that need to be explored.  I would definitely like to go back.  You can't really get to know a place until you walk around it, in my opinion.

The weather was amazing - it was sunny and warm, compared to overcast and snowy Chicago from two weekends ago.  Our hotel was lovely, and we each had a balcony.  I loved the balcony.  I sat there whenever I could. 

Getting to and from Phoenix was a pain in the butt - it took forever.  But I did get some fantastic photos from the airplane.  I'll include them at the end.

We definitely had some tasty food.  One of my favorite bloggers, Skillet Doux, actually lives in Phoenix, so I took some recommendations off his blog, and also some opinions from various friends who had been there before.  I had maybe five or six menus to choose from for our two dinners in town.

The first night, though, we actually took the recommendation of the great gal who checked us in at the hotel.  We didn't really feel like driving after all that flying, and she said Mucho Gusto was just down the street.  Which it was.  It was a fun little place, with very friendly people and yum yum yummy food.

To share, we started with the guacamole appetizer, which came with a DELICOUS Grand Marnier jalapeno reduction around the side, along with some picaditas, which were crispy masa cakes topped with black beans, shredded lettuce, crema and queso fresca.  They were also SO good - the cakes were corny and cakey yet crispy, and the black beans with crema were a delicious creamy contrast.  I liked them so much, I started putting them on my main course, which were vegetable tacos.  The vegetable tacos were also yummy, but after eating so much guacamole and chips, along with the picaditas, I couldn't really finish the tacos.  They were filled with sauteed mushrooms, a poblano slaw and more guacamole.  Tasty.  Oh, and we got there for happy hour, so we all enjoyed a half price margarita, which were strong and flavorful, with lots of lime.  Just the way I like it.  

For breakfast the next morning, we just ate in the sunny, airy hotel restaurant.  The breakfast buffet looked sad and tired, so we ordered off the menu.  I think, perhaps, the kitchen didn't really want to do food off the menu, because it took FOREVER for us to get our breakfast.  But I did get a tasty breakfast sandwich on sourdough toast.  The server looked at me askance when I asked to 'hold the bacon.'  I guess most people who order it don't pretend to be vegetarians.  My co-workers enjoyed their huevos rancheros, which I should've photographed, because they were beautiful, but I didn't.  Silly me.  But since it took so long for us to get our food, and it was so filling, we didn't even bother with lunch.  We just waited until after all of our work was finished, then we drove to Scottsdale to try one of the recommended restaurants.

I'd guess that normally, driving from Phoenix to Scottsdale is a pleasant little drive, which doesn't take long at all (it's funny, though--I thought the town looked more like a Disney idea of what the southwest should look like, it's so pristine).  We, of course, had to be there during the first weekend of Arizona State's spring break, along with baseball's spring training.  My goodness, there was a lot of traffic.  And a drive that should've taken fifteen minutes at the most took 45.  Our boss, who was driving the rental car, was thisclose to just stopping somewhere, anywhere to eat, since he was so tired of driving in the congestion.  But, ultimately, I think he was glad we made it all the way to Roaring Fork.

Roaring Fork is a very nice place, with lots of stone and fireplaces all around (which seem odd in such a warm climate, but ok).  The staff is friendly and welcoming, with a nice laid-back, but solicitous, attitude.  The first thing you see when you walk in?  Chickens on a spit.  So, yes, meat dominates their menu.  I decided to be a bad vegetarian once again and get that night's fish special, sea bass with a pineapple/mango salsa.  They had me at 'pineapple/mango salsa.'  My co-workers both got the Big Ass Burger, and oh my, it was.  I was really sad about the 'not eating meat' thing when I saw that burger come out.  It was a thing of beauty.  The photo merits inclusion, even though I didn't eat any (well, I did have a couple of those fries, which were tasty, dipped in the chipotle aioli.  yum.)...

My fish dish was also beautifully presented AND delicious.  The fish was meaty and soft, with a perfectly crispy skin.  The salsa was bright and citrus-y, which contrasted nicely with the rich fish.  There was also a little fresh crab and shrimp salad on top.  It was a light, yet still hearty, dish.  I will say it could've used a starch, but all that stuff is served a la carte, and I didn't feel like ordering an $8 side dish, expense account per diem or no.  But it wasn't a huge deal-breaker.  I enjoyed my meal quite a lot and would gladly go back to try other fish dishes.  The rainbow trout on the menu sounded amazing, too.  They could do a little better for a vegetarian, but I guess they might figure vegetarians wouldn't be all that interested in coming to a restaurant that features rotating chickens on a spit in their front lobby.  Call me crazy.  :)  

All in all, I enjoyed my brief stay in sunny Phoenix.  I just wish I had been able to walk around and see more of the city (and/or the university campus).  OH, I almost forgot.  I had another yummy food experience in the Chicago airport.  We had a three-hour layover (thank you, snooty American Airlines gatekeeper who wouldn't let us get on an earlier flight).  Since the layover was so long, we went to the little Rick Bayless kiosk for some tasty Frontera food!  They have tortas (sandwiches) and molletes (warm open-faced sandwiches).  The only vegetarian torta had three types of mushrooms on it, and since I had so many mushrooms in my tacos earlier in the trip, I instead opted for the tres-queso mollete.  It was DELICIOUS, on a thick piece of bread, with chipotle garlic mojo and argula, and the cheeses: goat cheese, Chihuahua cheese and cotija cheese.  Mmmmmmmmm.  They also serve it with a small container of tomatillo salsa, which was a tiny bit spicy for me, but I did put a little on my sandwich for a fresh bite.  I also got their house-made lemon iced tea, which was so deliciously strong, I had to get another glass of it.  It was a very satisfying lunch, not too heavy and, surprisingly, not too expensive!  Thumbs way up for Torta Frontera.  And, because I'm me, I also had to buy a cookie to take on the plane.  I got a cookie at a snooty fancy chocolates place - it was AMAZING!  It had pumpkin puree, coconut, dark chocolate chips and curry.  Oh my.  SOOOOO good.  I'll be looking for one of those stores around here when I get the chance.

No more trips until the end of the month, when I head back to Louisville and the Humana Fest.  I'm hoping to see some great theater now that management has changed (oop, did I say that out loud??), plus an old friend from college just moved there, which is exciting.  I'm also considering a trip to a recent Top Chef: Texas contestant's restaurant, though it is a pricey venture.  Hopefully, though, that trip won't end like this one did:  when we finally landed in New York last night, someone opened the overhead compartment a little quickly and his laptop dropped on a woman's head.  She screamed really loudly - it was quite scary.  The flight attendants wanted a paramedic to come on board, then they wanted to take the injured lady off the plane in a wheelchair, but the lady said she was fine.  I don't know how that turned out.  Then, once we of the unwashed masses in the back of the plane finally got up to deplane, we had to stop.  It turns out the jetway didn't actually connect correctly to the plane's door, so they had to redo it.  How the first class passengers got off, I don't know.  Hmmmm.  But, anyway, we stood around for at least a half hour, waiting for them to fix the door and let us off.  When they finally let us leave, the door was opened maybe a third of the way, and we had to squeeze out.  That can't have been very safe, but it was good to finally just get off that plane!  I wish I had had my camera out to get a picture of it, along with the maybe ten American Airlines mechanics standing around.  Very strange.

Enjoy my pictures from 33,000 feet.  :)