At the heart of ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore, beyond the love of siblings, families, suitors, there is another love. Love of duty. Or at least that’s the way Reese Madigan sees it. Returning to CENTERSTAGE as Vasques, the loyal—and manipulative—Spaniard who serves Soranzo, Reese has a warm and gracious attitude toward the theater and his cast mates, and a keen eye as to what sets Vasques apart from the rest of the characters.
“In a play in which almost everyone talks about their hearts, swears by their hearts, other people’s hearts, Vasques is lead by his sense of duty,” says Reese. “I imagine he swore to Sorenzo’s father he’d take care of his son, who is hot-headed and impetuous. He’s trying to keep him in line as he’s getting involved with a very dangerous woman, angering her, and angering her husband.”
In this Reese has found a lot of depth and that the role “is yielding more fruit than I expected,” he says. This profound sense of loyalty carries throughout, and while many times it is played manipulative plots or wry comments, other times it is a very deeply drawn dedication.
“Irene really wanted me to relish my last line [where Vasques boasts that a Spaniard has outwit an Italian in revenge]. It was a real push, because his life is over, in a way….If his whole reason is to do the best at his job, keeping Soranzo safe, he’s failed,” when his master dies.
This failure is not from any lack of machination—or physical skill. Vasques is one of the top swordsmen in the play, making his first entrance verbally and physically slashing at Grimaldi (played by Jacob Knoll). Reese, who has been doing martial arts since he was a child, is well trained in stage combat. “I’ve been lucky to be [fight choreographer J. Allen Suddeth]’s fight captain three times now—a huge honor as he is one of the top two or three in the country.”
A graduate of SUNY Purchase Conservatory, one of Reese’s first parts out of school was as a “spear carrier” in the Shakespearean in the Park production of Richard III with Denzel Washington. “I had three or four fights, it was fantastic!”
Back then Reese was one of the “kids” in the cast. For many years, Reese always felt like the youngest guy, but has been realizing he has transitioned to being one of the “older-young people,” he laughs. “I’m not that old yet!
“I'm at the top of my game, acting wise, but the roles are changing on me with age. The biggest challenge is staying in the game—and the game changes.”
After the close of ’Tis Pity, Reese heads back to New York, without another project lined up. Creative changes impacted a role he had been offered at a theater for the summer, and after much consideration he decided not to accept the change of roles.
“There are the choices you make,” he says. “You’re never just offered a dream role, you always have two choices, and either way you feel like you are burning bridges or making a sacrifice…feast or famine.”
He recently played Brick in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, a dream role. “I’d love to do more Tennessee Williams, he's my idol. And more Shakespeare.” It was his role as the Danish Prince in last season’s Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead that gave him a taste for Hamlet, his next dream role, “by hook or by crook!”
But nothing is planned at the moment. “It’s daunting to leave this, go back to pounding the pavement and working in catering while looking for the next gig.” However, you never know where you’ll meet people. As an event captain for a New York catering company between shows, Reese was working an Upper East Side event just before coming to Baltimore.
“I was growing out my goatee for this role, and felt foolish, so I explained to the wife hosting the party that it was for a part.” The wife asked him if he was an actor and what part. It turned out she was Kate Roche, daughter of the late Nancy Roche, a Trustee and former Board President for CENTERSTAGE (and for whom the Chapel Bar on the Theater’s fourth floor is named).
“Suddenly I was legitimized in her eyes because Irene chose me, I worked at CENTERSTAGE,” Reese says. This strong respect for the Theater seems carried over to the actor as well, who answers questions about returning to Baltimore with obvious warmth for the people here.
”I think this theater is a real jewel,” he says. “The people I’ve worked with here are really some of the best—Irene, David and the costume shop, Larry, of course…one of the best stage management teams I’ve ever worked with.
“It’s a great place to work because Irene [Lewis, Artistic Director] is responsible for all who work with her. She’s a very good director, one of the best. And she hires people who are the best; the actors are treated with a lot of respect, and that seems, from what I can see, to flow over into everyone on the staff.”
And the city, too, has its charms. “Baltimore is a wonderful city with great history—and great theatrical history.” He recalls going out to Green Mount Cemetery, where the Booth family is buried. The Booths were one of the great American theatrical families of the 19th-century (prior to the act that made son John Wilkes notorious). “All that history is all right here.”
Whatever the next show, for now Reese is enjoying the final days of ’Tis Pity and the people he spends his time on stage with. “It’s a really great cast on this one, a lot of laughs. Everybody is a really good actor and it is a pleasure to be on stage with them. There is this combination of really talented younger actors with really seasoned older actors.”
****
Interview by Heather. Production Photos: Richard Anderson. Bottom photo: Reese with Felecity Jones.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Fights and Gore-- backstage videos for 'Tis Pity She's a Whore
"'Tis Pity is at its best at its bloodiest...." -City Paper
And that is part of the fun—and the challenge—of a Jacobean Revenge Tragedy. Our fight choreographer J. Allen Suddeth and the cast worked hard to bring a realistic edge to the violence and mayhem on stage, and the crew backstage puts extra hours in every night to deliver—and remove—the gallons of blood required.
Check out J. Allen Suddeth’s video that compares the fights in rehearsal to the finished action on stage. And then take a backstage tour with members of our Stage Management and Costume crews as they give a sneak peek into the array of tools and tricks to giving a Revenge Tragedy a bloody good ending (created by Rapheal Davison and Sarah Anne Austin)
And that is part of the fun—and the challenge—of a Jacobean Revenge Tragedy. Our fight choreographer J. Allen Suddeth and the cast worked hard to bring a realistic edge to the violence and mayhem on stage, and the crew backstage puts extra hours in every night to deliver—and remove—the gallons of blood required.
Check out J. Allen Suddeth’s video that compares the fights in rehearsal to the finished action on stage. And then take a backstage tour with members of our Stage Management and Costume crews as they give a sneak peek into the array of tools and tricks to giving a Revenge Tragedy a bloody good ending (created by Rapheal Davison and Sarah Anne Austin)
Monday, March 16, 2009
Cinema and Stage: or, rather, sex and blood
I must admit, I was extremely excited for the arrival of ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore at CENTERSTAGE. At first, I wasn’t even sure why! When he discovered how much I was anticipating the production—before I had even read the script, at the time—our Resident Dramaturg Gavin Witt invited me to the department for a “brain-picking” session. Just why did this play interest me?
Through conversation with Gavin, Drew, and Katie, we realized one of the reasons for the appeal was that this script has a lot in common with the craft of filmmaking. Many of the movies that have made a stamp on our pop culture are those that combine beauty—lush in color, texture, or merely a graceful directorial touch—with a bit (or a lot) of the macabre. And this is no different.
’Tis Pity She’s a Whore is a Jacobean Revenge Tragedy, combing picturesque Italian setting and poetic dialogue with convoluted plot twists and a bloody and tragic ending. This balance of beauty and violence can be explored in any number of films, whether it is the stunning fights of Kill Bill, or Julie Taymor's Titus, which delves into Shakespeare's bloody tale violence and revenge with gutso, and yet so often during the film you find yourself gasping at the beauty of her shots.
And add into consideration that 'Tis Pity is a 350 year old play that deals with sexual taboo—and one that is still considered such, unlike many period plays that can often seem more tame to today's audiences. However, a brother and sister in love is still a sketchy subject, no question.
All of this came together to produce our TABOO Free Film series, in conjunction with City Paper and the Windup Space. So far we have presented Titus and The House of Yes (who can resist Parker Posey? and talk about brother/sister relationships...), and next week The Cook, the Thief, his Wife and her Lover rounds out the series. So, I guess we weren’t too off when we began describing this production as “Romeo & Juliet meets Quentin Tarantio,” after all!
Whether you can make the free movie showing or not, we hope you'll come see ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore here at CENTERSTAGE. With the official opening this week, it was great to see how all the hard work over the last month has come together to create something that audiences are really talking about: a perhaps shocking, surprisingly funny, and yet still touching tale.
~Heather
***
Photos (top to bottom) Colby Chambers and Kristen Sieh; Reese Madigan and Felicity Jones; Reese Madigan, Colby Chambers, Curt Hostetter, Kristen Sieh, Corey Pierno, and Tim Artz. Photos by Richard Anderson
Through conversation with Gavin, Drew, and Katie, we realized one of the reasons for the appeal was that this script has a lot in common with the craft of filmmaking. Many of the movies that have made a stamp on our pop culture are those that combine beauty—lush in color, texture, or merely a graceful directorial touch—with a bit (or a lot) of the macabre. And this is no different.
’Tis Pity She’s a Whore is a Jacobean Revenge Tragedy, combing picturesque Italian setting and poetic dialogue with convoluted plot twists and a bloody and tragic ending. This balance of beauty and violence can be explored in any number of films, whether it is the stunning fights of Kill Bill, or Julie Taymor's Titus, which delves into Shakespeare's bloody tale violence and revenge with gutso, and yet so often during the film you find yourself gasping at the beauty of her shots.
And add into consideration that 'Tis Pity is a 350 year old play that deals with sexual taboo—and one that is still considered such, unlike many period plays that can often seem more tame to today's audiences. However, a brother and sister in love is still a sketchy subject, no question.
All of this came together to produce our TABOO Free Film series, in conjunction with City Paper and the Windup Space. So far we have presented Titus and The House of Yes (who can resist Parker Posey? and talk about brother/sister relationships...), and next week The Cook, the Thief, his Wife and her Lover rounds out the series. So, I guess we weren’t too off when we began describing this production as “Romeo & Juliet meets Quentin Tarantio,” after all!
Whether you can make the free movie showing or not, we hope you'll come see ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore here at CENTERSTAGE. With the official opening this week, it was great to see how all the hard work over the last month has come together to create something that audiences are really talking about: a perhaps shocking, surprisingly funny, and yet still touching tale.
~Heather
***
Photos (top to bottom) Colby Chambers and Kristen Sieh; Reese Madigan and Felicity Jones; Reese Madigan, Colby Chambers, Curt Hostetter, Kristen Sieh, Corey Pierno, and Tim Artz. Photos by Richard Anderson
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Interview: Richard Gallagher of "Fabulation"
It’s been nearly a week since the cast of Fabulation, or The Re-education of Undine departed from CENTERSTAGE’s Head Theater. Still, even after two days of previews for 'Tis Pity She’s a Whore, Lynn Nottage’s beloved characters from Fabulation continue to linger in the hearts of our patrons and staff. Perhaps it is due to the pretentiously hysterical situations that the title character, Undine Barnes Calles, constantly found herself in; or maybe it’s because there is always something heartwarming about watching an individual reunite with his or her estranged family. Whatever the reason, it is certain that a much deeper, more meaningful message was meant to be heard through Undine’s sarcastic narration of her own satirical fall from social grace.
As the show approached its final performance, I had the opportunity to sit with Richard Gallagher, a member of Fabulation’s ensemble cast. He greeted me with a smile as he sat at one of the round coffee tables where his green baseball cap and coffee mug were already settled and waiting. Before long we were chatting like old acquaintances.
“So, did you study theater in college?” I asked, expecting to know the answer. How surprised was I to discover that Richard Gallagher, who plays Undine’s slightly nervous yet demanding accountant among his roles, received his undergrad in English and History?
“I wanted to be a professor,” he confessed. And how did he find his way into acting? “I took an Acting I class my senior year of college for fun,” he explained. “I got such a good response from my professors that I decided to take Acting II my final semester and had a blast.”
After graduation, Richard signed up for Acting III classes as a continuing education student before being offered a full-ride into the M.F.A program of his alma-mater.
“It was a disaster,” he claimed. “Due to a number of reasons. I only stayed for a year.”
Following his short-lived first experience as a graduate student, Richard moved to San Francisco in attempts to pursue an acting career. It was there that Richard had his first run in with Lynn Nottage’s work. He auditioned for Nottage’s play Las Meninas and was called back three times before eventually losing the role to a Yale graduate. He took it as a sign to return to graduate school and after thorough research and only one audition, was accepted to Yale School of Drama’s graduate program, where he studied for three years.
When it came time for our production, director Jackson Gay inquired specifically about him through his agency when casting first began. He had several friends who had worked for CENTERSTAGE in past productions, and had heard nothing but praises of their experiences with the Theater. Although he had never read Fabulation, clearly Mr. Gallagher was familiar with Lynn Nottage’s work.
“I loved Intimate Apparel!” he oozed. Despite his fondness of Nottage’s previous plays, Richard confessed later that he was still relieved to find that Fabulation was one he knew he would enjoy doing. “I thought it was honest [and] found the story inspiring.”
Carefully, I mentioned a review of the production in which the critic claimed Nottage to be unsympathetic to the title character.
“I guess [Nottage] probably isn’t sympathetic,” he pondered. “But does it matter? It’s about a crisis... The sky is falling!” He gets excited. “If you don’t know who you are then what’s left?”
There is something endearing about Undine’s misfortunes, I must admit, and the fact that such a seemingly indestructible character could be broken in so many ways. Watching Fabulation for the very first time, I remember wondering how many of us in the audience could sympathize with Undine. How many of us have lost our jobs in these troubled times? Who of us has not said and done something to hurt our loved ones? And how many of us refuse to see past our own personal tragedies?
“There’s a very interesting button at the end of this play,” Richard adds. “‘I breathe’…If you are breathing, you can listen. You can change. So much goes by Undine. Even her accountant says ‘You don’t listen to anyone.’”
I asked what sort of impact he hoped Fabulation might have had on its audiences.
“I hope it’s a chance for them to re-evaluate where they are in life… there is a sense [throughout the play] of ‘That’s not gonna happen to me.’ But it does. When that happens, what do you do? You can choose to stay angry at the world or move on. There’s not a lot of sympathy about the fall. It’s about how you re-evaluate yourself after.”
For Undine, that new sense of self was found in the forgiving arms of her abandoned family. Perhaps that is what made this show so memorable. Despite all of Undine’s desperate attempts to hang on to what little she had left of her “fierce” lifestyle, in the end, she finally found that moment to breathe and realize for the first time the true meaning of unconditional love. And hopefully, our audiences were also able to find that moment to breathe in their own lives.
As the show approached its final performance, I had the opportunity to sit with Richard Gallagher, a member of Fabulation’s ensemble cast. He greeted me with a smile as he sat at one of the round coffee tables where his green baseball cap and coffee mug were already settled and waiting. Before long we were chatting like old acquaintances.
“So, did you study theater in college?” I asked, expecting to know the answer. How surprised was I to discover that Richard Gallagher, who plays Undine’s slightly nervous yet demanding accountant among his roles, received his undergrad in English and History?
“I wanted to be a professor,” he confessed. And how did he find his way into acting? “I took an Acting I class my senior year of college for fun,” he explained. “I got such a good response from my professors that I decided to take Acting II my final semester and had a blast.”
After graduation, Richard signed up for Acting III classes as a continuing education student before being offered a full-ride into the M.F.A program of his alma-mater.
“It was a disaster,” he claimed. “Due to a number of reasons. I only stayed for a year.”
Following his short-lived first experience as a graduate student, Richard moved to San Francisco in attempts to pursue an acting career. It was there that Richard had his first run in with Lynn Nottage’s work. He auditioned for Nottage’s play Las Meninas and was called back three times before eventually losing the role to a Yale graduate. He took it as a sign to return to graduate school and after thorough research and only one audition, was accepted to Yale School of Drama’s graduate program, where he studied for three years.
When it came time for our production, director Jackson Gay inquired specifically about him through his agency when casting first began. He had several friends who had worked for CENTERSTAGE in past productions, and had heard nothing but praises of their experiences with the Theater. Although he had never read Fabulation, clearly Mr. Gallagher was familiar with Lynn Nottage’s work.
“I loved Intimate Apparel!” he oozed. Despite his fondness of Nottage’s previous plays, Richard confessed later that he was still relieved to find that Fabulation was one he knew he would enjoy doing. “I thought it was honest [and] found the story inspiring.”
Carefully, I mentioned a review of the production in which the critic claimed Nottage to be unsympathetic to the title character.
“I guess [Nottage] probably isn’t sympathetic,” he pondered. “But does it matter? It’s about a crisis... The sky is falling!” He gets excited. “If you don’t know who you are then what’s left?”
There is something endearing about Undine’s misfortunes, I must admit, and the fact that such a seemingly indestructible character could be broken in so many ways. Watching Fabulation for the very first time, I remember wondering how many of us in the audience could sympathize with Undine. How many of us have lost our jobs in these troubled times? Who of us has not said and done something to hurt our loved ones? And how many of us refuse to see past our own personal tragedies?
“There’s a very interesting button at the end of this play,” Richard adds. “‘I breathe’…If you are breathing, you can listen. You can change. So much goes by Undine. Even her accountant says ‘You don’t listen to anyone.’”
I asked what sort of impact he hoped Fabulation might have had on its audiences.
“I hope it’s a chance for them to re-evaluate where they are in life… there is a sense [throughout the play] of ‘That’s not gonna happen to me.’ But it does. When that happens, what do you do? You can choose to stay angry at the world or move on. There’s not a lot of sympathy about the fall. It’s about how you re-evaluate yourself after.”
For Undine, that new sense of self was found in the forgiving arms of her abandoned family. Perhaps that is what made this show so memorable. Despite all of Undine’s desperate attempts to hang on to what little she had left of her “fierce” lifestyle, in the end, she finally found that moment to breathe and realize for the first time the true meaning of unconditional love. And hopefully, our audiences were also able to find that moment to breathe in their own lives.
~Cori
***
Photos: Richard Gallagher in Fabulation, photo by Richard Anderson; Richard Gallagher.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Interview: Maria-Christina Oliveras of "Fabulation"
The curtain may be down on Fabulation, but we couldn't resist getting a few final words from some of the talented actors who visited our theater and city for this fantastic show!
***
Working in the Box Office, I received phone calls over the last month requesting tickets not for Fabulation, but for "Fabulocity," "Fabulosis," “Fabulon,” "Fabucation," among various other inventive titles. These creative titles echo the meaning of fabulation itself; the act of inventing or relating false or fantastic tales. Our patrons have not gone to the extremes in inventing false tales about Fabulation, but many have inquired exactly what it is about. After viewing the show myself, I have been tempted to ramble off Flow's final verse of his compelling epic, yet unfinished poem about Brer Rabbit:
"It be 'bout who we be today/ And in our fabulating way/ 'Bout saying that we be/ Without a-pology/ It is a circle that been run /That aint no one ever won/ It that silly rabbit grin,/ 'Bout running from your skin..."
But instead, I explain that Fabulation is about a career driven woman who has worked her way to the top of a PR firm and suddenly finds herself broke, on the verge of a divorce, and pregnant, forced to face her roots and go home to her family in the projects. "It's a comedy," I explain, but then rethink; how is that description I just explained comical?
It is the satirical punchy moments that have brought laughter to our audiences, while leaving them contemplating issues of race, social class, identity, and even the definition of success.
As Undine Barnes Calles bosses about her Post-it wearing secretary and listens to her accountant inform her that her Argentine husband has left her with nothing, the audience watches a social climbing woman's true identity unravel. She is forced to go back to Brooklyn where she has not seen her family for 14 years. When Undine reluctantly returns to her mother, father, brother, heroin-addicted grandmother, and even the jump-rope champion girlfriends of her youth, she begins to shed layers to what might be a social fall, but might also be a moral rise.
As I had the opportunity to sit down with Maria-Christina Oliveras, who played the post-it-clad assistant Stephie, among her multiple roles in the show, we discussed the major themes in Fabulation such as the notion if image, the meaning of success, the ideas of perception of race and class, as well as the pressures to blend and assimilate within society.
"The script is wonderful in that it touches upon interracial class issues that have been explored, but not yet produced." Oliveras admits it is indeed a challenge, but a challenge that forces her to evaluate not only herself, but humanity as a whole in illuminating different types of people through her multiple character roles. "It’s about finding a tone, honoring the character, and finding moments larger than life, but staying grounded in truth and reality."
Oliveras concurs with me in that "[Fabulation] is funny, yet tragic." She hopes the audience is able to watch these different characters and go beyond their comic caricatures. "I hope they are able to see another dimension, and see them as human beings struggling." Moreover, she hopes audience members can evaluate what is truly important to them and what makes their identity. What if, like Undine, everything you have is taken away from you? What would you really do? Where would you go? Overall, Oliveras would like the audience to expand their sense of empathy. "Everyone struggles; the person sitting next to you in the theatre might be the person who just lost their job, or the person taking the extra shift so that their child can have that new winter coat."
The Education and Community Department at CENERSTAGE has given Oliveras the opportunity to speak about these important issues highlighted in Fabulation in local high schools and universities. Within her discussions, she encourages students to think about stereotypes and how people are perceived. "I think this show really pushes you to think about perception and how you are perceived, something that many youth deal with on their path to self discovery." Along with that, she has asked these students to think about success; what does success really mean, and who defines success?
Perhaps success for a character like Undine's brother Flow it means concluding that epic poem on Br'er rabbit. We can only imagine how Flow ended his epic poem, but possibly it might be something like this: "...It is a circle that been run /That aint no one ever won/ It that silly rabbit grin,/ 'Bout running from your skin/And underneath, you find that identity clinging from within."
~Emily
***
Photos: Crystal Anne Dickinson and Maria-Christina Oliveras in Fabulation, photo by Richard Anderson; Maria-Christina Oliveras.
***
Working in the Box Office, I received phone calls over the last month requesting tickets not for Fabulation, but for "Fabulocity," "Fabulosis," “Fabulon,” "Fabucation," among various other inventive titles. These creative titles echo the meaning of fabulation itself; the act of inventing or relating false or fantastic tales. Our patrons have not gone to the extremes in inventing false tales about Fabulation, but many have inquired exactly what it is about. After viewing the show myself, I have been tempted to ramble off Flow's final verse of his compelling epic, yet unfinished poem about Brer Rabbit:
"It be 'bout who we be today/ And in our fabulating way/ 'Bout saying that we be/ Without a-pology/ It is a circle that been run /That aint no one ever won/ It that silly rabbit grin,/ 'Bout running from your skin..."
But instead, I explain that Fabulation is about a career driven woman who has worked her way to the top of a PR firm and suddenly finds herself broke, on the verge of a divorce, and pregnant, forced to face her roots and go home to her family in the projects. "It's a comedy," I explain, but then rethink; how is that description I just explained comical?
It is the satirical punchy moments that have brought laughter to our audiences, while leaving them contemplating issues of race, social class, identity, and even the definition of success.
As Undine Barnes Calles bosses about her Post-it wearing secretary and listens to her accountant inform her that her Argentine husband has left her with nothing, the audience watches a social climbing woman's true identity unravel. She is forced to go back to Brooklyn where she has not seen her family for 14 years. When Undine reluctantly returns to her mother, father, brother, heroin-addicted grandmother, and even the jump-rope champion girlfriends of her youth, she begins to shed layers to what might be a social fall, but might also be a moral rise.
As I had the opportunity to sit down with Maria-Christina Oliveras, who played the post-it-clad assistant Stephie, among her multiple roles in the show, we discussed the major themes in Fabulation such as the notion if image, the meaning of success, the ideas of perception of race and class, as well as the pressures to blend and assimilate within society.
"The script is wonderful in that it touches upon interracial class issues that have been explored, but not yet produced." Oliveras admits it is indeed a challenge, but a challenge that forces her to evaluate not only herself, but humanity as a whole in illuminating different types of people through her multiple character roles. "It’s about finding a tone, honoring the character, and finding moments larger than life, but staying grounded in truth and reality."
Oliveras concurs with me in that "[Fabulation] is funny, yet tragic." She hopes the audience is able to watch these different characters and go beyond their comic caricatures. "I hope they are able to see another dimension, and see them as human beings struggling." Moreover, she hopes audience members can evaluate what is truly important to them and what makes their identity. What if, like Undine, everything you have is taken away from you? What would you really do? Where would you go? Overall, Oliveras would like the audience to expand their sense of empathy. "Everyone struggles; the person sitting next to you in the theatre might be the person who just lost their job, or the person taking the extra shift so that their child can have that new winter coat."
The Education and Community Department at CENERSTAGE has given Oliveras the opportunity to speak about these important issues highlighted in Fabulation in local high schools and universities. Within her discussions, she encourages students to think about stereotypes and how people are perceived. "I think this show really pushes you to think about perception and how you are perceived, something that many youth deal with on their path to self discovery." Along with that, she has asked these students to think about success; what does success really mean, and who defines success?
Perhaps success for a character like Undine's brother Flow it means concluding that epic poem on Br'er rabbit. We can only imagine how Flow ended his epic poem, but possibly it might be something like this: "...It is a circle that been run /That aint no one ever won/ It that silly rabbit grin,/ 'Bout running from your skin/And underneath, you find that identity clinging from within."
~Emily
***
Photos: Crystal Anne Dickinson and Maria-Christina Oliveras in Fabulation, photo by Richard Anderson; Maria-Christina Oliveras.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
First time through
We found our Resident Dramaturg Gavin Witt's latest post on the Dramaturgy tumblr so enlighting about our upcoming production of 'Tis Pity She's a Whore, we had to cross-post. Check out all the inside thoughts of the Dramaturgy department at their tumblr, The Thaumaturgy Department.
***
Wow. (Finally) invited back in the room to watch the first rough run through the whole show. What a massive, mighty monster of a play! A tremendously complicated effort, with scores of scenes and a half-dozen fights and seven bodies piled up by the end. There should be some nifty rehearsal video of fight rehearsal coming soon, but meantime, some impressions that linger:
John Ford might have been a failure as a lawyer, if indeed he really trained for the law; but as a playwright he had his moments, and plenty of them. There are passages of exquisite beauty and emotional resonance throughout ‘Tis Pity and like Shakespeare they are across the ethical spectrum. Some of the writing, as poetry, achieves real heights/depths, and structurally the play is extremely inventive, amibitious, and modern. There are virtually jump-cuts, including one remarkable moment when we jump ahead a matter of months in the space of an eye-blink, as one character talks and time seems to whirl past him in a sentence. Remarkable.
The play is—in a good way—all over the map in tone. There’s gut-busting comedy (not really slapstick, but good character-based laughs) that turns on a dime to knock the wind out of you, into pathos at least. There’s violence, cruelty, betrayal, and revenge a-plenty. There is romance of all sorts, in unexpected and often quite uncomfortable ways, and it’s managed beautifully even in the current rough stage of the process.
The rehearsal room has the air of a creative beehive of endeavor. The big, white room, lined with windows on either side and blasted up to two stories of height, is an extremely conducive space, for all its cavernous acoustics and rough, semi-industrial aesthetic. The cast announced today that they really don’t want to leave the rehearsal room, one of the few ever that elicits that response. There are props scattered about, but not too many—mostly swords and blades of various kinds. There’s some basic indicators of space, to define some apertures, but not much. There’s a recycled statue of Venus, standing in. And of course, colored tape on the floor to indicate the shape of the eventual set. Even with so little, the piece already has shape, life, specifity, and momentum.
Little by little, the cast of a dozen and a half is coming together as a unified and cohesive band. They’ve been pretty tight since the start, getting along well, but since the various plot strands are so distinct, they’ve been rehearsing almost as if it were a movie, in for a few hours intense work, then away for days, and only in small groupings. Now, they are beginning to see each other’s work, and to start inhabiting the same world of performance reality.
Still curious to see if a few plot points, important as the premise for action and motivation though not really for much detail, come clear. They seemed to land but they are dicey. The sort of thing one coughing fit in the audience can just wipe out, leaving a roomful of people very, very confused. We don’t have the benefit of all knowing the story of this play in common, which is mostly a huge boon (nobody comes in reciting lines along with the actors, or already jaded about the outcome, or even likely prefering another version they saw) but does leave us a bit vulnerable. There’s less inclination to take the play’s extremes as a given, to give it permission to challenge; and there’s less familiarity with its basic parameters. So, we’ll see…..
One aspect was a huge relief—there seemed to be a tremendous sense of momentum driving the first “act” as we’ve divided it, and leading naturally or even inexorably towards the intermission break. It’s an artificial imposition on a five-act play, so that’s always a risk.
Given that we’d cut and gently adapted the script, it was a relief as well to hear how well the text played. I missed nothing that we’d removed, and actually caught a few more places where we could make useful (small) adjustments for clarity and distinction.
The show should be beautiful, costumes are coming together quickly, and as drew’s photo illustrates the set is not far behind either. With music, dance, fights, blood, scenery, and lighting this should grow into an extravaganza worthy of the challenge and potential of the piece itself. A fantastic opportunity to work on this bear.
~GHW
from: http://thaumaturgy.tumblr.com/post/82492915/first-time-through
***
Wow. (Finally) invited back in the room to watch the first rough run through the whole show. What a massive, mighty monster of a play! A tremendously complicated effort, with scores of scenes and a half-dozen fights and seven bodies piled up by the end. There should be some nifty rehearsal video of fight rehearsal coming soon, but meantime, some impressions that linger:
John Ford might have been a failure as a lawyer, if indeed he really trained for the law; but as a playwright he had his moments, and plenty of them. There are passages of exquisite beauty and emotional resonance throughout ‘Tis Pity and like Shakespeare they are across the ethical spectrum. Some of the writing, as poetry, achieves real heights/depths, and structurally the play is extremely inventive, amibitious, and modern. There are virtually jump-cuts, including one remarkable moment when we jump ahead a matter of months in the space of an eye-blink, as one character talks and time seems to whirl past him in a sentence. Remarkable.
The play is—in a good way—all over the map in tone. There’s gut-busting comedy (not really slapstick, but good character-based laughs) that turns on a dime to knock the wind out of you, into pathos at least. There’s violence, cruelty, betrayal, and revenge a-plenty. There is romance of all sorts, in unexpected and often quite uncomfortable ways, and it’s managed beautifully even in the current rough stage of the process.
The rehearsal room has the air of a creative beehive of endeavor. The big, white room, lined with windows on either side and blasted up to two stories of height, is an extremely conducive space, for all its cavernous acoustics and rough, semi-industrial aesthetic. The cast announced today that they really don’t want to leave the rehearsal room, one of the few ever that elicits that response. There are props scattered about, but not too many—mostly swords and blades of various kinds. There’s some basic indicators of space, to define some apertures, but not much. There’s a recycled statue of Venus, standing in. And of course, colored tape on the floor to indicate the shape of the eventual set. Even with so little, the piece already has shape, life, specifity, and momentum.
Little by little, the cast of a dozen and a half is coming together as a unified and cohesive band. They’ve been pretty tight since the start, getting along well, but since the various plot strands are so distinct, they’ve been rehearsing almost as if it were a movie, in for a few hours intense work, then away for days, and only in small groupings. Now, they are beginning to see each other’s work, and to start inhabiting the same world of performance reality.
Still curious to see if a few plot points, important as the premise for action and motivation though not really for much detail, come clear. They seemed to land but they are dicey. The sort of thing one coughing fit in the audience can just wipe out, leaving a roomful of people very, very confused. We don’t have the benefit of all knowing the story of this play in common, which is mostly a huge boon (nobody comes in reciting lines along with the actors, or already jaded about the outcome, or even likely prefering another version they saw) but does leave us a bit vulnerable. There’s less inclination to take the play’s extremes as a given, to give it permission to challenge; and there’s less familiarity with its basic parameters. So, we’ll see…..
One aspect was a huge relief—there seemed to be a tremendous sense of momentum driving the first “act” as we’ve divided it, and leading naturally or even inexorably towards the intermission break. It’s an artificial imposition on a five-act play, so that’s always a risk.
Given that we’d cut and gently adapted the script, it was a relief as well to hear how well the text played. I missed nothing that we’d removed, and actually caught a few more places where we could make useful (small) adjustments for clarity and distinction.
The show should be beautiful, costumes are coming together quickly, and as drew’s photo illustrates the set is not far behind either. With music, dance, fights, blood, scenery, and lighting this should grow into an extravaganza worthy of the challenge and potential of the piece itself. A fantastic opportunity to work on this bear.
~GHW
from: http://thaumaturgy.tumblr.com/post/82492915/first-time-through
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
What is a BAP?
While tossing about impressions of the characters in Fabulation or, The Re-education of Undine, we were struck by the characterization of the “BAP”, or Black American Princess, as represented, maybe not so much by Undine, but by her equally status-seeking, nouveau-rich friend Allison. But what is the stereotype of a BAP?
Tossed onto the desk of our Promotions Director came the clever, if tongue-in-check, book:
The BAP Handbook: The Official Guide to the Black American Princess (at amazon.com).This humorous slant by Kalyn Johnson, Tracey Lewis, Karla Lightfoot, and Ginger Wilson looks at the definitions of the Black American Princess as:
1 : a pampered female of African American descent, born to an upper-middle or upper-class family;
2 : an African American female whose life experiences give her a sense of royalty and entitlement;
3 : BAP (acronym) : colloquial expression; or
4 : an African American female accustomed to the best and nothing less.
A whimsical look into “BAP speak, BAP style, and BAP history,” the BAP Handbook, also includes lists of so-called BAP colleges, famous BAPs and a glossary (who doesn’t need to know the crème-de-la-crème of French phrases to toss about?).Our particular favorite feature? A break down of the leading “types” of BAPs:
Betty \’bede, ‘bete, -i\n., usually cap B [short for continuous betterment]: a. A BAP by birthright who strives for perfection in everything she undertakes. B. a BAP whose life expectations are based on a sense of entitlement. C. the Quintessential BAP.
Boho \‘’bo-ho\n. usually cap B [diminutive of bohemian]: a. a BAP by birthright who lives an unorthodox lifestyle. B. A funky-fresh sister with a decidedly unique if not outrageous approach to life. C. A majorette in her one-woman band.
Butterfly \ ‘be·ter·fli\n., usually cap B: A BAP who evolved from a dormant state at any point during her life. B. A BAP who is often presumed to be a Betty. A BAP who may protest the categorization.
We found this satirical book quite amusing, and hope you do too!
Tossed onto the desk of our Promotions Director came the clever, if tongue-in-check, book:
The BAP Handbook: The Official Guide to the Black American Princess (at amazon.com).This humorous slant by Kalyn Johnson, Tracey Lewis, Karla Lightfoot, and Ginger Wilson looks at the definitions of the Black American Princess as:
1 : a pampered female of African American descent, born to an upper-middle or upper-class family;
2 : an African American female whose life experiences give her a sense of royalty and entitlement;
3 : BAP (acronym) : colloquial expression; or
4 : an African American female accustomed to the best and nothing less.
A whimsical look into “BAP speak, BAP style, and BAP history,” the BAP Handbook, also includes lists of so-called BAP colleges, famous BAPs and a glossary (who doesn’t need to know the crème-de-la-crème of French phrases to toss about?).Our particular favorite feature? A break down of the leading “types” of BAPs:
Betty \’bede, ‘bete, -i\n., usually cap B [short for continuous betterment]: a. A BAP by birthright who strives for perfection in everything she undertakes. B. a BAP whose life expectations are based on a sense of entitlement. C. the Quintessential BAP.
Boho \‘’bo-ho\n. usually cap B [diminutive of bohemian]: a. a BAP by birthright who lives an unorthodox lifestyle. B. A funky-fresh sister with a decidedly unique if not outrageous approach to life. C. A majorette in her one-woman band.
Butterfly \ ‘be·ter·fli\n., usually cap B: A BAP who evolved from a dormant state at any point during her life. B. A BAP who is often presumed to be a Betty. A BAP who may protest the categorization.
We found this satirical book quite amusing, and hope you do too!
~Heather
Photo: Crystal Anne Dickinson, photo by Richard Anderson
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