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Thursday, November 6, 2014

Buried Child


Playwright: Sam Shepard
Venue:  The Edge Theater, 1560 Teller Street, Lakewood CO, 80214.
Running Time:  2 hours (includes two 10 minute intermissions).
Date of Performance:  Monday, November 3, 2014 (Industry Night performance).

If you haven't been to The Edge Theatre before, you should know that the name is not a marketing strategy.  It's a theater strategy.  The Edge produces "edgy" shows.  If you're looking for Broadway fare, you probably won't find it at The Edge.  There a lot of Colorado theaters that produce fun, safe shows like Forever Plaid, The Full Monty, or Shrek, The Musical.  If that's what you're looking for, you won't have any trouble finding it, but it probably won't be at The Edge.
On the other hand, if you're looking for a challenging, provocative, and risky theater experience, The Edge should be high on your list of local venues.  It's one of Denver's premiere theaters; a small intimate space filled with some of the best actors working in Colorado.  You will never walk out of the The Edge theater feeling like you didn't get what you came for.
As for Buried Child, I'm reminded of the time, many years ago, when I first saw the film One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (recently produced at The Edge).  I had an empty feeling leaving the theater.  I knew I had just seen something extraordinary, but I just couldn't bring myself to say I "liked" it.  The premise is too scary; it's altogether too disturbing to believe that an arguably sane person can be committed to an asylum.  So it is with Buried Child:  extraordinary but disturbing.  
I don't know that I could adequately explain the plot, so I'll just point out this from the Director's Notes:
"What would it be like to be completely void of love?  What would civilization look like if we were 100% into survival and had no regard for anyone else but ourselves?  How would the reality of dying look if we were surrounded by loneliness?"
That, in a nutshell, is an apt description of the dark place we find in Buried Child.  Sitting in the audience, I could often not determine whether the characters were hallucinating, fantasizing, or just making stuff up. I often wondered what, if any, part of the script was supposed to be "reality."  The disconnection from reality is total; the only piece of the story that seemed undeniably true is the title.  It's about a "buried child," and that dead and buried child is as much a presence in the story as the other characters.
L-R:  Dan Mundell (Dodge), Robert Kramer (Tilden), Emma Messenger (Halie), Missy Moore (Shelly), Royce Roeswood (Vince).  Front:  Brian Landis Folkins (Bradley).

There are a number of standout performances here.  Dan Mundell (Dodge) is marvelous.  He's a cantankerous old coot, and a loafer with an extremely bad attitude.  Emma Messenger (Halie), Dodge's wife, is an overdressed diva, slipping out to flirt with (and seduce, if possible), the local priest (Tim Fishbaugh, playing Father Dewis).  Both Mundell and Messenger turn in compelling performances as the most dysfunctional couple imaginable.
Robert Kramer delivers a stunning performance as the confused, mentally challenged Tilden.  Kramer is brilliant.  He muffles his voice, slows his delivery, and pauses at times to ponder his responses.  Pay particular attention to his eyes.  His eyes show constant fear, giving the impression that he knows he is always going to be outsmarted and dominated by everyone else in his life.  Kramer has taken Tilden to an extraordinary level of credibility, vulnerability, and in the process, likability.
Missy Moore (Shelly), Robert Kramer (Tilden).
In the end, though, it is Missy Moore's performance that is crucial to the story and the one you will remember long after you've left the theater.  Her Shelly is a combination of confidence and fear, and Moore is dazzling in both modes. 
Shelly's fear is justified.  By my count, she is physically assaulted three times, once by Bradley (Brian Landis Folkins) and twice by Vince (Royce Roeswood).  Those assaults are well choreographed, and no harm comes to Moore, but the audience gasps audibly watching her being manhandled.  Moore's intensity is perfect; she is equal parts vulnerable victim and self-confident woman during her descent into the darkest places in Buried Child.  Moore holds nothing back here.  She gives us everything she has as Shelly.
Rick Bernstein turns his talented cast loose to do what they do best.  He obviously has a great deal of respect for his actors, and the rewards of turning them loose with their characters are enormous.  That said, he has also taken care that no one is at risk despite the confrontations and conflicts they must realistically perform at every show.
Sam Shepard's script won a Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 1979. Buried Child is provocative, powerful, and edgy, making it perfect material for The "Edge" Theater.  That said, though, it is not for everyone.  As in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, you will probably not say you "like" Buried Child.  Instead, you will say that it is indescribably extraordinary, emotionally disturbing, and unforgettable. 
It is a credit to the Denver theater community that it includes companies like The Edge that can produce risky, edgy scripts.  There are a lot of communities that could not bring Buried Child to their audience.  Denver is fortunate to have a theater devoted to bringing us to The Edge.  

NOTES:  
Buried Child contains adult content, adult language, and intense scenes, including physical assaults on a woman.  No one under 16 will be admitted without parental consent.
This show closes on November 16, 2014. 
Pre or post show dining suggestion:  
We drove into Denver from Colorado Springs for "Buried Child," and stopped at Merle's in the Littleton Old Town Center.  It's a 20-30 minute drive to or from The Edge Theater, depending on traffic.
Merle's is in what was, in the 1930's, a gas station.  They still carry the automotive theme throughout the property, along with vintage photos of Littleton.  The menu is varied; I had the "Monte," short for what is usually called a "Monte Cristo" sandwich.  It was very good, and more than I could eat.  I took half of it home.  

Photo CreditsThe Edge Theater Company, RDG, Rachel Graham
Tickets HERE.

Creative Team:
Director:  Rick Bernstein
Assistant Director/Props:  Lisa Nell DeVeux
Producer:  Rick Yaconis
Scenic Designer:  Christopher Waller
Lighting Design: Stevie Candarola
Sound Design:  Kenny Storms
Costume Design:  Caroline Smith
Stage Manager/Production Coordinator:  Lara Merz

Cast:
Dodge:  Dan Mundell
Halie:  Emma Messenger
Tilden:  Robert Kramer
Bradley:  Brian Landis Folkins
Vince:  Royce Roeswood
Shelly:  Missy Moore

Father Dewis:  Tim Fishbaugh

Monday, November 3, 2014

The Outgoing Tide

Playwright: Bruce Graham
Venue:  John Hand Theater, 7653 E. 1st Place, Denver CO, 80230.
Running Time:  2 hours, 5 minutes (includes 15 minute intermission).
Date of Performance:  Saturday, November 1, 2014

The Outgoing Tide may be the best contemporary script available on the subject of aging.  Actually, it may just be one of the best scripts I've ever encountered on any subject.  This is compelling storytelling, with humor, with love, and with tense, nerve wracking drama.
As is my habit, I won't spoil the story for those who haven't seen The Outgoing Tide.  What I can say is that the play opens with Jack (Adamo Pinti) visiting his parents' Chesapeake Bay cottage, having been summoned by his father "Gunner" (Jim Landis).  It's an inconvenient time for Jack to make the trip to the cottage; his marriage is in the final stages of disintegration, and his son is in full teenage angst mode.

Gunner's advanced Alzheimer's Disease is a challenge for Jack, and for his mother Peg (Deborah Curtis).  Not only is Peg dealing with Gunner's dementia, but also with his physical deterioration.  He's in diapers and cannot recognize her at times.  He tries to watch "Cops," but the remote doesn't work because he's pointing it at the microwave.
L-R:  Jim Landis (Gunner), Adamo Pinti (Jack), Deborah Curtis (Peg).

The performances here are excellent, with the exception of Jim Landis' performance as Gunner.  His performance is extraordinary; he's a talented actor at the top of his game. He starts with with a superb sense of comedic timing.  Despite his failing faculties, we can't help but love Gunner and his self deprecating humor, all delivered by Landis who has created an engaging, fun, and lovable guy who knows where he's going and how he's going to get there. 

But Landis isn't limited to humor.  His performance is full of heart wrenching drama as well.   Landis makes Gunner's frustrations with his health and his loved ones heart felt and convincing.  Landis delivers exactly what Playwright Bruce Graham wants from his role:  a compelling and engaging guy who charms us under very difficult circumstances.  It is an exquisite performance.  I will not soon forget Gunner, nor Landis.
Adamo Pinti (Jack), Deborah Curtis (Peg).

Deborah Curtis plays Peg, Gunner's tired, frustrated, but still loving wife.  She will do anything for Gunner, but sometimes she has to do it twenty times.  He asks her constantly for "pancakes" for breakfast.  No matter how many times she says "yes," the question comes back in five minutes.  "Can we have pancakes?"  Curtis shows us a perfect, genuine mix of love for and frustration with Gunner.  It's an emotionally complex role that she delivers with skill and grace.

Adamo Pinti is the emotionally exhausted son of Peg and Gunner, struggling with his life, his wife, his son, and now his parents.  The show begins with a discussion between Jack and his father, who doesn't have a clue who he is talking to.  Pinti plays along, neither divulging his identity nor arguing with his father.  It's a very disturbing conversation for Jack, but one that Pinti handles with concern and love.  The audience figures out the details in a short time; I winced when I realized how Pinti absorbed and delicately portrayed the pain of that conversation.

Jeffrey Jermer's set design is striking, detailed and functional.  He has created a beautiful cottage kitchen, a pier for Gunner to fish from, and a beach, complete with sand.  For flashbacks, the set is darkened, and Lighting Designer/Director Steve Tangedal uses focused spot lighting on the relevant characters.  It's a beautiful set, whether fully lit or sharply focused on the flashbacks.
Adamo Pinti (Jack).

Tangedal brings a tender sensitivity to his direction here, emphasizing the emotional struggles of characters facing a critical dilemma.  Steve knows the drill; his touch is that of one who has walked a mile in the shoes of a caregiver facing enormous loss and grief.  I have no problem admitting that I had tears streaming down my cheeks at the end of the show; and I was not the only one touched so deeply.  I've seen a lot of theater.  It's a rare performance that can bring me to tears.

The Outgoing Tide may be Mr. Tangedal's most personal and most effective project yet in a long and distinguished career in Denver theater.

Although The Outgoing Tide is painful to watch at times, it is no more painful than the aging experience itself.  We all will go through it for parents, friends, loved ones, and ultimately, ourselves.  Despite the disturbing subject, The Outgoing Tide teaches us an important, and positive, lesson.  That lesson is that we all can, and should, live our lives on our own terms.  Gunner did exactly that.  He lived on his own terms, even when it made life more difficult for his family.  

The house was nearly full at the performance I saw; their standing ovation was immediate and genuine.  This is a marvelous script, performed by talented actors, and directed by a guy who brings a lifetime of both theater and personal experiences to the production.  The result is unforgettable.  The Outgoing Tide runs for one more weekend.  Your life will be little bit richer, a little bit better, and a little more meaningful for seeing this show.  I highly recommend getting a ticket before they're gone.


NOTES:  

DISCLAIMER:  I have been a caregiver.  I suffered tremendous loss when my wife Linda died in May, 2013.  While that may have made The Outgoing Tide a more intense experience for me, it does not change the bottom line.  This is a powerful, moving, and provocative piece of theater, whether you've been a caregiver or not.

I rarely miss an opportunity to remind people that living your life on your own terms can be difficult as it nears the end, especially if you do not have a will.  For those who want a inexpensive, effective, and legally binding way to document medical instructions to your family, try The Five Wishes.  It meets the legal requirements for a medical directive in 42 states, including Colorado.  It only takes a few minutes to complete. 
How relevant is The Outgoing Tide?  Extremely.  Living life on your own terms shouldn't really be news, but sometimes it is.

This play is probably better for those over 16 years old.  There is some adult language, and the emotional elements may be difficult for younger teens to deal with.  
This show closes on November 8, 2014. 

Pre or post show dining suggestion:  

Jim N Nick's Community Bar-B-Q, 8264 E 49th Ave, Denver, CO 80266 (in the Northfield Shopping Center).  With a variety of local craft brews and authentic southern barbecue, Jim N Nick's is a happening place.  We arrived around 5:30 PM, and had a 10 minute wait for a table.  Those coming after us had significantly longer waits. 
The Smoked Cuban Sandwich, with fresh cut fries, was delicious.  If you don't speak Southern, side dishes ("sides") are called "Trimmings" here.  Originally established in 1985 in Birmingham, Alabama, their "low and slow" recipes for cooking the pork has resulted in 33 restaurants in 7 states.  They have "Community" in the name.  That's because they are very active in various food bank projects in the communities they serve.  That alone makes a visit to Jim N Nick's a great plan.

Photo CreditsFirehouse Theater Company, Ed Berry
Tickets HERE.

Creative Team:
Director:  Steve Tangedal
Production Manager:  Richard Witherspoon
Scenic Designer:  Jeffrey Jesmer
Lighting Design: Steve Tangedal
Sound Design: Luke Terry
Costume Design:  Greg Alan West

Cast:
Jack:  Adamo Pinti
Peg:  Deborah Curtis
Gunner:  Jim Landis

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Ambition Facing West


Playwright: Anthony Clarvoe
VenueDairy Center for the Arts, 2590 Walnut Street, Boulder, CO, 80302.
Running Time:  2 hours, 25 minutes (includes 15 minute intermission).
Date of Performance:  Saturday, October 18, 2014

We are a nation in motion.  
Approximately 12% of Americans change addresses annually.  If you ask how many moved to a new location in the last five years, the number jumps to 35%.  
There may be millions of reasons why so many people move, but it's not hard to identify the major one:  opportunity.  If we know that opportunity is the primary incentive to move, we also know something about those who move on.  They have ambition.  They are not satisfied to stay put when they have a chance to improve their lives.
Nowhere can you see the twin forces of opportunity and ambition operating as clearly as you will in Ambition Facing West, Anthony Clarvoe's epic tale of a family as it moves from Croatia to Wyoming to Japan.  While the multigenerational narrative starting in Croatia may seem remote and less than relevant at first glance, it is neither.  Rather, it's a story that we have all been brought up to admire.
Clarvoe doesn't sugar coat his story; the streets of America are clearly not paved in gold.  Working in a coal mine is still hard work in difficult conditions with poor pay.  The dream is always better than the reality.  
John Hauser (Young Stipan) and Adrian Egolf (Young Alma)
This is a stellar cast, doing a remarkable job with a challenging script.  The story telling is non-linear.  We fade between geographic locations during a time span of seventy (70) years.  The same character, for example, Stipan, is played by two actors, one the younger version (John Hauser), the other the older (Chris Kendall).  Likewise, Young Alma is played by Adrian Egolf, while Haley Johnson plays the Older Alma.  This cast can maintain a single consistent character through 70 years and two actors...no small feat.
All four actors in both these central roles are outstanding.  Egolf's Young Alma is the picture of innocence and naivete.  She is the beautiful, intelligent, obedient child of our dreams.  Her genuine curiosity about her roots and her young love interest (Jim, played by Benjamin Bonenfant) are the only signs of rebellion from an otherwise ideal daughter.  Egolf absolutely shines in all her scenes, but when she falls passionately in love with Jim, she discovers a part of herself she never knew existed.  It is a touching scene of innocence, love, and self discovery, and Egolf nails it.
Haley Johnson (Marija), Casey Andree (Father Luka), John Hauser (Young Stipan)
Haley Johnson, the adult Alma, carries a Zippo lighter with her, but not because of her smoking habit.  Rather, the Zippo was a gift from Jim, her now long lost first love.  Alma becomes a successful career woman, but she never forgets Jim.  Johnson is excellent as the adult version of Alma, no longer naive, no longer innocent, and no longer married.  She has a son, Joey (also played by Benjamin Bonenfant), and she passes the lighter along to Joey in a tender moment.  
He's confused; he doesn't smoke.  She explains it to him:
Alma:  "It's for remembering with."
Joey:  "Remembering what?"
Alma "Remember, O monks, that all this world is on fire."
Johnson's gift to her son is literally and figuratively brilliant; the torch is literally passed to a new generation.   It's a compelling, climactic scene as Alma grows from a detached adult to a compassionate mother.  Just like her younger Adrian Egolf version, Johnson as the adult Alma discovers a part of herself she didn't know about.  

Chris Kendall (Stipan, Alma's Father) and Karen LaMoureaux (Alma's Mother)
It is, though, perhaps Chris Kendall who gets the best roles here, as he plays Ivo Pasic, who recruits Croats to immigrate to America, and the adult Stipan, Alma's father.  Both roles are central to the story, and Kendall wastes no time bringing charm, wisdom, and occasional humor to both men.  Kendall has a keen sense of timing; his pauses are often as loaded with meaning as his lines.  His Ivo is a clever but dishonest character; as Alma's father, he glows, guiding Alma without giving her too much information about her heritage.  
Tina Anderson's set design is marvelous; the gravel pit gives the actors a rare opportunity to distinguish between locations simply by walking on a different surface.  The 17 white panels forming the backdrop make Andrew Metzroth's lighting design come alive.  Dialect coach Tamara Meneghini has made the cast into credible Croatians.     
There are so many great performances, and so many magical moments in Ambition Facing West, it's difficult to summarize them all here.  Simply said, this production is like a fine wine; everything works, and the experience electrifies the mind and the senses.  A sip will tantalize you, a whole bottle will intoxicate you.
The arc of Clarvoe's story is long and detailed.  He gives us a script that tells not one story, but thousands; every family that leaves its roots goes through a similar journey.  They lose what they left behind, in return for a new reality.  Whether that new reality is better than the one they left behind is debatable.  
What is not debatable is the human experience of deciding on a personal level how our lives must be lived.  There's no right or wrong here, only what we decide to do with our own opportunities, our own freedom, and our own lives.  Whether we leave our roots because we are drawn to opportunity, or stay in place because we are drawn to our traditions and families, there are always consequences to those decisions.  Ambition Facing West reminds us that, for better or worse, we control our own destiny.
As I mentioned above, we are a nation in motion.  Ambition Facing West is a dramatic, beautiful, engaging and relevant display of the people we were and the people we are.  It's a "wonderful story, wonderfully told," and it's the reason we go to the theater.  This is an excellent production of a powerful script, and it should NOT be missed.

NOTES:  
This play is satisfactory for all ages.  That said, however, the non-linear script and the Croatian accents may cause those under 16 or so to start fidgeting early on.
This show closes on November 2, 2014. 

Pre or post show dining suggestion:  
T⎮aco, 1175 Walnut Street, Boulder, 80302, turned out to be a very pleasant surprise.  We had planned to stop at the Walnut Brewery & Restaurant (practically next door to T⎮aco), but there was a 20 minute wait before seating.  Since we didn't have time to wait, we checked into T⎮aco, where we were seated immediately.  (They are probably accustomed to getting the overflow from the nearby brewpub.)  
What a marvelous surprise.  The service was fast, excellent, and competent.  The food was tasty; small soft tacos, excellent queso with the chips & salsa.  We tried three of the salsa choices, including the habanero and the chipotle.  The habanero is eye watering, sweat inducing HOT, the chipotle was delicious.  We will definitely go back.
Tickets HERE.

Creative Team:
Director:  Stephen Weitz
Scenic Designer:  Tina Anderson
Lighting Design:  Andrew Metzroth
Sound Design: Matthew Fischer

Costume Design:  Brenda King
Dialect Coach:  Tamara Meneghini
Dramaturg:  Heather A. Beasley, Ph.D.

Cast:
Croatia, 1910:
Young Stipan:  John Hauser
Father Luka:  Casey Andreee
Marija, Stipan's Mother:  Haley Johnson
Ivo, the Amerikanac:  Chris Kendall
Miss Adamic:  Adrian Egolf
Mrs. Adamic:  Karen LaMoureaux

Wyoming, 1940's:
Young Alma:  Adrian Egolf
Josephina, Alma's Mother:  Karen LaMoureaux
Stipan, Alma's Father:  Chris Kendall
Jim:  Benjamin Bonenfant

Japan, 1980's:
Alma:  Haley Johnson

Joey, Alma's Son:  Benjamin Bonenfant
Eugene:  Casey Andree

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Rattlesnakes


Playwright: Graham Farrow
Venue:  Springs Ensemble Theatre, 1903 East Cache La Poudre Street, Colorado Springs, CO, 80909.
Running Time:  90 minutes (includes 15 minute intermission).
Date of Performance:  Friday, October 17, 2014

WARNING:
This review contains adult subjects, adult language, profanity, and possible spoilers.  The profanity is not meant to be shocking or offensive.  Rather, it is to demonstrate and reinforce the tone of the script.
Rattlesnakes starts with a bang.  No.  Make that a BIG bang.  Three masked thugs ambush gigolo Robert McQueen (Oscar Robinson) in a seedy motel room.   The stage quickly descends into total chaos, as the three goons proceed to beat the crap out of McQueen.  They tie him to a chair and gag him, and proceed to begin the questions:  "are you fucking our wives?"
All three of them already know the answer.  Of course he's fucking their wives.  That's what he does.  It's a business...his business.  He has to feed his wife and  kids and pay the rent.  
To say that this first scene grabs your attention is to seriously understate the obvious.  There is absolutely no one in the audience who isn't totally engaged as the script turns from chaos into a taut drama about the reality and the fantasies in our relationships.  Farrow's script cleverly outlines the faults, the flaws, and the secrets men and women try to hide from each other.  For Farrow, it's a toxic brew that, if exposed, can only result in more chaos.
"More chaos" is exactly where these desperate and depraved characters take us.  Not to give away the story, but Rattlesnakes climaxes with as much chaos as it displays in the opening scene.  It's a chaos sandwich, if you will, with a lot of dramatic meat and colorful condiments in the middle.  It's a powerful script, and for the audience, a real punch in the gut.
Director Steve Emily has put together a suitably seedy motel room set for the action to play out.  No seat is more than a dozen or so feet from the stage, but Emily has choreographed the violence so well that even at close range it looks and feels real.  With some help from Dialect Coach Jillmarie Peterson, his cast comes off as truly venomous "rattlesnakes" disguised as genuinely British working class folks.
Oscar Robertson (Robert)
Oscar Robinson (Robert McQueen) is the hapless, helpless boy toy gigolo at the center of the action, and he is marvelous; like a Timex, he takes a beating and keeps on ticking.  His McQueen is a tough guy in a desperate situation, and he fights back with everything he has:  secrets.  He knows these goons, through their wives.  He knows their secrets, and he knows how to leverage those secrets for his own survival.
His tormenters (Dylan Mosley as Ritchie, Jonathan Andujar as Jamie, and Kyle Urban as Jed) are merciless but foolish.  They want revenge, but they also want answers to the central question:  why would their wives be fucking a lowlife prostitute?  It turns out that they can't actually handle those answers.
Dylan Mosley (Richie)
Mosley is the central goon, if you will, and he is probably the wisest of the three antagonists.  He listens with disbelief to the improbably frightening story McQueen tells him about his wife Shelly (LeAnne Carruth).  His wife could not possibly be the dominant, bitchy, voracious vixen stalker McQueen describes.  Mosley is not just skeptical;  he's incredulous.  He cannot process that his wife is the woman McQueen is describing.  It would be a colossal spoiler to say more; you'll have to buy a ticket to see whether Shelly is the wife Ritchie knows or the stalker McQueen describes.
LeAnne Carruth (Shelly)
LeAnne Carruth (Shelly) doesn't appear until the middle of the second act, but she steals the show.  She quickly establishes who she really is, and spills out her secrets to us.  It's a very impressive performance, one that is both sexy and frightening.  Needless to say, "sexy and frightening" are a volatile mix in a woman, and Carruth's performance makes the ensuing chaos as real as it is inevitable.
Rattlesnakes is one of those rare dramas that doesn't require you to sort out the good guys and the bad guys.  There are no good guys.  The script is a pretty cynical sketch of how totally empty our lives are, and how those lives can be destroyed by contact with the truth.  Although the script is somewhat contrived, I can't disagree with the central premise:  we all have secrets.  We all risk being found out, and we all risk the potentially catastrophic consequences of those secrets.  
Farrow offers no solution, no escape, from the truth.  Like matter contacting antimatter, all is utterly destroyed when the truth comes out.  
I fear he may be right.
Kyle Urban (Jed)
NOTES:  
This play contains explicit sexual language, profanity, adult situations, graphic violence, and gunfire.  Not recommended for those under 16 years old.    
This show closes on October 26, 2014. 
Jonathan Andujar (Jamie)

Pre or post show dining suggestion:  
There aren't any restaurants near the theater, so plan on about a 10-15 minute drive from downtown if you're dining before or after the show.  Phantom Canyon Brewery, the oldest (1993) brewpub in Colorado Springs. is located at 2 East Pikes Peak, across the street from the Antler's Hotel.  There is on street parking, and some paid lots nearby.  The beers are excellent (yes, there are some seasonable brews), and the food is reliably good pub grub.  My favorite:  the fish and chips. 

Photo CreditsSprings Ensemble Theatre
Tickets HERE.

Creative Team:
Director/Producer:  Steve Emily
Scenic Designer:  June Scott Barfield
Technical Director:  Mike Miller
Co-Producers: Keri Poilakoff, Jillmarie Peterson 
Lighting Design:  Jenny Maloney
Sound Design: David Plambeck, Max Ferfuson
Costume Design//Dialect Coach:  Jillmarie Peterson

Cast:
Robert McQueen:  Oscar Robinson
Richie Hanson:  Dylan Mosley
Shelly Hanson:  LeAnne Carrouth
Jamie Jarrett:  Jonathan Andujar
Jed Ellis:  Kyle Urban

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Master Class


Playwright:  Terrance McNally
VenueThe Dairy Center for the Arts, 2590 Walnut Street, Boulder, CO, 80302.
Running Time:  2 hours 20 minutes (includes 15 minute intermission).
Date of Performance:  Saturday, October 11, 2014

"I just want to sing."
For the gifted students in Maria Callas' master class, such a statement is simultaneously true and extremely naive.  To sing is not enough for Callas, and she Is brutally direct with her ill prepared and shrinking students.  Or, as Callas describes them, her "victims."  
In an effort to teach them how to be artists as well as singers, she intimidates them.  She insults them. She shames them.  The difference between a diva and a bully is imperceptible.
For those who haven't seen McNally's Master Class, consider the Maria Callas character a precursor to Simon Cowell of America's Got Talent and it's transatlantic cousin, Britain's Got Talent.  In a delicious irony, Cowell, he of no perceptible talent, doles out cringeworthy insults to aspiring artists who may actually accomplish something one day.  Callas, at least the one portrayed here in Master Class, may have been Cowell's inspiration; she certainly exhibited the profound narcissism that Cowell has embraced.
Callas' lesson for the students is that if one chooses artistic success as a goal, all other goals must evaporate.  Every detail, every note, every gesture, must be carefully and fully researched.  One must suffer for art, as she herself has done. 
Callas is correct.  Art requires extreme sacrifices and considerable suffering.  What she misses, though, is the paradox that she, the artist, inflicts additional suffering on her aspiring students, and does so gleefully.  Presumably, students in a master class are already well acquainted with the sacrifices they must make to succeed. 
Tammy L. Meneghini (Maria Callas).
Tammy L. Meneghini is a frightening, unapproachable, insufferable, and cold Callas.  In other words, she nails it.  She flits and swaggers across the stage, flaunting her success and her suffering for her art.  She can, and does, induce vomiting.  Meneghini even confronts the audience; patrons in the front rows will feel the sting of the glares, the stares, and the insults of La Davina.
Meneghini delicately balances the forces that consume Callas.  This master class is about Maria, not the students.  Callas does have a message here though, and Meneghini delivers it with eloquence:  art is not for the meek, and it does not come easily.  It is this balance of cruelty and profundity that Meneghini masters for us.  We see Callas, through Meneghini, as an artist and, to some extent, as a victim.  
Meneghini shows us the uncomfortable truth:  a successful artist is not necessarily a successful human being.  In fact, the two may be mutually exclusive. 
The test of a good teacher is whether the students are better or smarter for having been in the class.  Callas does not care whether she is a good teacher, or, for that matter, whether she has any effect whatsoever on those students.  As a result, her value as the "Master" of the Master Class is dubious at best.
McNally, though, through Callas, makes one additional important point:  artists should be paid fair value for their talent.  It's a point that all too often falls on deaf ears.
This Goddess Here production is strong.  Both sopranos (Ariana Gibbard and Phoenix Gayles) have exquisite voices.  It is annoying that they are constantly interrupted by Callas.  Graham's aria from Verdi's Macbeth is a show stopper, despite Callas' advice to lower her expectations after hearing it.  
It is Tony Candolino (James Baumgardner), though, who is the match for Callas in this Master Class.  Baumgardner combines a honey smooth tenor voice with the attitude to challenge La Divina's callousness (pun intended).  His rendition of "Recondita Armonia" from Puccini's Tosca is the musical high point of the play.  Baumgardner needs no coaching from a self absorbed diva.  His voice, and his interpretation of the music, are stellar.
Adam Ewing accompanies on the piano, but also does a superb job of playing along with Callas to her face, while sporting a mischievous smirk when she's not looking.  He provides a counter balance to Callas' onstage excesses, without saying a word about them.
For opera fans, Master Class may not contain enough opera to overcome Callas' quirky, jerky, side show.  For theater fans, though, Master Class is a poignant, provocative look at how theatrical sausage is made.  It's not a pretty sight, but the reality is that there are great sacrifices made to produce great art.  Master Class reminds us artists are human beings with incredible talent and passion.  That there are "victims" made daily in the process should not be forgotten.
Unfortunately, I was unable to see this show until the last weekend of its short run.  It's a pity; it's now too late for any reader to get a ticket.  Trust me, though.  Master Class was a small masterpiece of provocative theater.

NOTES:  
This play contains explicit sexual language.  
The starving artist is not a myth; it's the cold hard reality for anyone chasing a dream in the arts.  Stephen Weitz, of the Boulder Ensemble Theatre Company, linked me to an excellent piece on this subject recently.  It's a disturbing commentary, and very relevant to this issue raised by Master ClassRead it here if you care about the current state of theater and the talent that makes it all work.
Master Class is a work of fiction.  Callas was apparently not the diva that McNally portrays here.  He has taken some artistic license with his subject.
This show closed on October 12, 2014. 

Pre or post show dining suggestion:  
The Kitchen, 1039 Pearl Street, Boulder.  Located in the heart of the Pearl Street Mall, The Kitchen uses locally grown ingredients for it's unusual menu.  Located only a few minutes from the theater, it's one of Boulder's most popular upscale restaurants.

Photo CreditsGoddess Here Productions
Tickets HERE.

Creative Team:
Director:  Ami Dayan
Music Director:  Adam Ewing
Technical Director:  Craig Bushman
Producer: Deven Sheff
Lighting Design:  Jess Buttery
Projection Designer:  El Armstrong
Original Costume Design: Alice Matiosian
Costume Coordinator, Hair & Makeup:  Amanda Herrera
Original Wig Design:  Amanda Clark

Cast:
Maria:  Tammy L. Meneghini
Manny Weinstock/Accompanist:  Adam Ewing
Sophie DePalma/Soprano 1:  Ariana Gibbard
Sharon Graham/Soprano 2:  Phoenix Gayles
Tony Candolino/Tenor:  James Baumgardner
Stagehand:  Craig Bushman