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unpopularwiththepopulace · 3 years ago

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Don’t I Get a Dream for Myself ? – Bernadette Peters and the 'Gypsy' Saga

Gypsy. It’s perhaps the most daunting of all of the projects related to Bernadette Peters to try to grapple with and discuss. It’s also perhaps the most significant.

For someone notoriously guarded of her privacy and personal life, careful with her words, and selective of the questions she answers, the narrative around this show provides some of the most meaningful insights it is possible to derive in relation to Bernadette herself. The show’s ability to do this is unique, through the way it eerily parallels her own life and spans a large range in time from both Bernadette Peters the Broadway Legend, right back to where it all began with Bernadette Lazzara, the young Italian girl put into showbusiness by her mother.

The most logical place to start is at the very beginning – it is a very good place to start, after all.

(Though no one tell Gypsy this, if the fierce two-way battle with The Sound of Music at the 1960 Tony Awards is anything to be remembered. Anyway, I digress…)

Gypsy: A Musical Fable with music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, and book by Arthur Laurents, burst into the world and onto the New York stage in May of 1959. After closing on Broadway in March 1961, Ethel Merman as the world’s original Mama Rose herself led the first national tour off almost immediately around the country. Just a few months later, a second national touring company was formed, starring Mitzi Green and then Mary McCarty as Rose, to cover more cities than the original. It is here that Bernadette comes in.

A 13-year-old Bernadette Peters found herself part of this show in her “first professional” on-the-road production, travelling across the country with her older sister, “Donna (who was also in the show), and their mother (who wasn’t)”.

The tour played through cities like Philadelphia, Chicago, New Haven, Baltimore and Las Vegas before closing in Ohio in 1962. Somewhat uncannily, its September 1961 opening night in Detroit’s Schubert Theatre even returns matters full circle to the 2003 revival and New York’s own Schubert Theatre.

Indeed this bus-and-truck tour was somewhat of a turning point for Bernadette. She’d later remember, “I mostly thought of performing as a hobby until I went on the road with Gypsy”.

But while this production seminally marked a notable moment for the young actress as well as the point where her long and consequential involvement with Gypsy begins, it’s important to recognise she was very much not yet the star of the show and then only a small part of a larger whole.

Bernadette was with the troupe as a member of the ensemble. She took on different positions in the company through the period of nearly a year that the show ran for, including billing as ‘Thelma’ (one of the Hollywood Blondes), ‘Hawaiian Girl’, and additional understudy credits for Agnes and Dainty June.

The above photo shows Bernadette (left) with another member of the ensemble (Sharon McCartin) backstage at the Chicago Opera House as one of the stops along the tour. Her comment on the stage of the Chicago theatre – “I’d never seen anything so big in my life!” – undeniably conveys how her experiences were new and appreciably daunting.

Along the tour, she assumed centre-stage once or twice as the understudy for Dainty June, but playing the young star was not her main role. Unlike what more dominant memory of the story seems to purport.

Main credits of June went instead to Susie Martin – a name and a tale of truth-bending that’s now well-known from Bernadette’s concert anecdotes. While performing her solo shows as an adult and singing from Gypsy, Bernadette has often been known to take a moment to penitently atone for historical indiscretions of identity theft or erasure where her mother long ago conveniently left out the “understudy” descriptive when putting down Dainty June on her resumé, in an effort to add weight to the teenager’s list of credits.

Whatever happened to Susie Martin? – many have wondered. Well, she soon left the theatre. But not before appearing in two more regional productions of Gypsy and a 1963 Off-Broadway revival of Best Foot Forward with Liza Minnelli and Christopher Walken.

Bernadette too went on to other regional productions of Gypsy. She spent the summer of 1962 in various summer stock stagings with The Kenley Players, like in Pennsylvania and Ohio, and this time she did indeed get to play June.

Above shows photos from different programmes for these productions. While some may have featured odd forms of photo editing, they at least also bring to attention Rose here being played by none other than Betty Hutton.

The two women couldn’t have been in more different positions when they coalesced in these rough-around-the-edges, small-scale productions. A young Bernadette was broaching summer stock in starting to take on bigger roles in the ascendency to her bright and long career. Meanwhile, Betty found herself there while navigating the descent that followed her sharp but fickle rise to Hollywood fame in the ‘40s and early ‘50s. Top billing Monday, Tuesday you really are touring in stock after all.

While details aren’t plentiful for these productions, it was recounted Betty apparently struggled in performing the role. And understandably so. Following the recent traumatic death of her mother in a house fire, and the birth of her third child shortly before the shows began, it’s not hard to see why her mind might have been elsewhere. Still, she was apparently impressed enough by the younger actress who turned in one of the show’s “creditable performances” to make comment that she would’ve liked Bernadette to play her if a movie were made about her life.

Bernadette might not have done this exactly, but she did go on to revitalise Betty’s best-known movie role, when stepping into Annie Oakley’s shoes in the 1999 Annie Get Your Gun revival. With Bernadette’s first Ethel Merman show under her belt, the ball was soon rolling on her second.

The 2003 production of Gypsy was imminently beckoning as her next successive Broadway musical and it was Arthur Laurents who lit the match to spark Bernadette’s involvement. Laurents, as the show’s original librettist, drove the revival by saying he “didn’t want to see the same Rose” he’d seen before. Going back to June Havoc’s description of her mother as “small” and a “mankiller”, and Arthur’s take that Bernadette sung the part “with more nuance for the lyrics and the character than the others”, the choice of Bernadette was justified. Moreover, “Laurents – whose idea it was to hire her – [said] going against type is exactly the point,” and Sam Mendes, as director, qualified “the tradition of battle axes in that role has been explored”.

So Bernadette also had her own baseline of innate physical similarity to the original Rose Hovick, in addition to her own first-hand memories of the women she’d acted alongside as Rose in her youth to bring into her characterisation of the infamous stage mother.

But there was a third factor beyond those as well to be considered in the personal material she had access to draw from for her characterisation. Namely, her own real life stage mother.

Marguerite Lazzara did share traits with the character of Rose. She too helped herself to silverware from restaurants, and put her daughters in showbusiness for the vicarious thrill. Marguerite had “always wanted to become an actress herself”, but had long been denied her desire by her own mother, who likened actresses to being as “close to a whore as you could be without, you know, getting on your back”.

In that case, to “escape a housewife’s dreary fate in Ozone Park”, Marguerite channelled her latent dream through her pair of young daughters instead, shepherding them out along the road. Thus was produced a trio of the two children ushered around the theatre circuit by the driven mother, forming an undeniable parallelism and a mirror image of both Bernadette’s reality and Gypsy’s core itself. Bernadette didn’t see some of these familial parallels at the time when she was a child, considering “maybe I didn’t want to see” – “didn’t want to see a mother doing that to her daughter”.

It was coming back to the show as an adult that helped Bernadette resolve who her mother was and some of the motivations that had propelled her when Bernadette was still a child. She realised, “I think she thought she was going to die very young”, as her own father died young. So “she was rushing around to get as much of her life as she could in there”.

When she herself returned to the production in playing Rose, Bernadette conceded to sometimes bringing elements of her mother and her driven energy into her portrayal, and admitted too she looked “like her a lot in the role”. You can assess any familial resemblances for yourself, from the images below that show a young Marguerite next to Bernadette in costume as Rose, and then with the pair backstage in 1961 in a dressing room on the tour.

Marguerite was ambitious. From her own personal position and with the restrictions imposed upon her, it was ambition that materialised through her children. Irrevocably, she altered them. She placed Bernadette on TV as a very young child (“I was four when my mother put me in the business”); changed her daughter’s surname (“She told me my real name was too long for the marquees,” or really – “too Italian”); doctored her resumé (“Somehow the word ‘understudy’ vanished. ‘No one will know,’ said Marguerite”); and lightened her hair (“She’d say, ‘Oh, I’m just putting a little conditioner on it.’ But slowly my hair got blonder and blonder!”). All in the hope of giving her child a more favourable chance at the life she’d always wanted for herself.

On paper, a classic stage mother. “When I was a kid, she fulfilled herself through me,” Bernadette would say. “She put me into show business so she could get a taste of the life herself.”

But it’s important to consider Bernadette often qualifies that her mother wasn’t as brutal as Rose, nor was she herself as traumatised as June.

Bernadette didn’t begrudge her mother for her choices – at least by the time she was an adult, she’d rationalised them, explaining “naturally it was more exciting [for her] to go on the road with me than staying home and keeping house”.

As a child, Bernadette hadn’t necessarily wanted to be on stage, but there was a sense of ambivalence – not resentful belligerence – as she “didn’t care one way or the other” when she found herself there.

Like June, Bernadette may have been entered into and coaxed around a path she hadn’t voluntarily chosen. But unlike June, Bernadette had a deal with her mother that “she had only to say the word”, and she could leave.

Most crucially, she never did.

But that’s not to say Bernadette was enamoured with acting from the beginning.

She seemed to feel ‘outside’ of that world and those in it. And others saw it too.

It was in 1961 in Gypsy that Bernadette first met Marvin Laird – her long-time accompanist, conductor and arranger. The way he put it, he “noticed this one young girl, very close with her mother” who, during breaks, “didn’t mix much with the other girls”.

Beneath the effervescent stage persona, there’s a quieter and more reserved reality, and a sense of separation and solitary division.

When asked by Jesse Green in 2003 for the extensive profile in The New York Times if she thought her experiences on the road in Gypsy were good for her at that age, she gives a curious, somewhat abstract, predominantly dark, potentially macabre, response. He wrote:

She doesn’t answer at first but seems to scan an image bank just behind her eyes for something to lock onto. Eventually she comes out with a seeming non sequitur. “I didn’t know how to swim. I remember, in Las Vegas, I fell in, once, and they thought I was flailing, but I felt like: ‘It’s pretty down here!’ I might have been dying and I was thinking: ‘Look at the pretty color!’ And suddenly my fear of water was gone, and I could have stayed in forever.” After a while, I realize she’s answered my question. Then she dismisses the image: “But I had to get my hair dry for the show that day, so up I came.”

I’m still not entirely sure I know what she’s trying to convey here. My interpretation of this anecdote changes as I have re-visited and re-examined it on multiple occasions at different time points. It’s arguably multiply polysemic.

Was she simply swept up in a moment of childlike distraction, lost in the temporary respite alone away from the usual noise and clamour? Was she indicating comprehension that her feelings and perspectives came secondary to any practical necessities and inevitable responsibilities? Was she using the water to depict a muffling and fishbowl-like detachment from others her age who got to live more ‘ordinary’ lives in the ‘normal’ world above that she felt separate from? Was she referencing the pretty colours she saw as a metaphor for show business and how she became bewitched by them even despite potential dangers? Was she trying to legitimately drown herself, or at least exhibiting an ambivalence again as to whether she lived or died, because of what the highly pressurised demands on her felt like?

The underlying sentiment through her response in answer to Green’s primary question was that, in essence – no. Being a child actor was not “over all, a good experience for a youngster”.

Acting might have been something she fell in love with over time, but not all at once, not right from the beginning, and not without noting its perils.

It was a matter of accidental circumstance that landed Bernadette in the show business world to begin with at such a young age in the first place – “I just found myself here,” she would offer.

Her mother, who was “always crazy about the stage”, “insisted” that her sister, Donna take lessons in singing, dancing and acting.

A further point of interest to note is that, although it was Bernadette with her new surname who would grow up to be the famous actress, look to the cast lists from the 1961 touring production of Gypsy that featured both sisters in the company (see photo below) and you’ll find no ‘Lazzara’ in sight. Donna too, appearing under the novel moniker of “Donna Forbes”, had also already become stagified (nay, ethnically neutralised?) by her mother. As such it is clearly demonstrated that Marguerite’s intention at that point was to make stars of both her daughters. Correspondingly so, when her sister returned from her performance lessons some years before, “Donna would come home and teach me what she had learned,” Bernadette remembered. She may have gotten her “training second hand”, but the key element was that she got it.

For Bernadette, it was a short jump from emulating magpied tricks from her sister as well as routines from Golden Age Busby Berkeley musicals on the ‘Million Dollar Movie’ in front of the TV screen, to her mother getting her on the other side of the screen and actually performing on TV itself – belting out Sophie Tucker impressions aged five for all the nation to see.

The photos below show Bernadette in performative situations at a young age (look for criss-crossed laces in the second for identification).

“At first, as a toddler, Bernadette enjoyed performing; it came naturally, a form of play that people inexplicably liked to watch.” It was “just a hobby” and she “wanted to do it”.

But while she may not have detested it, she didn’t entirely comprehend what was going on either. “I didn’t even know I was on TV,” she said. “I didn’t know that those big gadgets pointed at me were cameras and that they had anything to do with what people saw on the television set.”

When she started gaining more of an awareness of how “such play [was being] co-opted for commercial purposes”, she grew less enthralled. “She didn’t care for the bizarre children, accompanied by desperate mothers, she began to see at auditions: ‘They spent their whole time smiling for no reason, you know?’”

Being a child who had become sentient of being a child performer began to grow wearisome and grating to the young girl who had her equity card, a professional (and strange, new) stage name, and an increasingly long list of expectations by the time she was nine. There’s a keen sense she did not enjoy being in such a position: “I wouldn’t want to be a child again. When you’re a child, you have thoughts, but nobody listens to you. Nobody has any respect for you”.

Gypsy did indeed mark a turning point for Bernadette as mentioned above – but not just in the way that seems obvious. Looking back at it now, it does appear the monumental turning point at which she started appearing in significant and reputable productions, beginning what would be the foundation to her ‘professional’ career. However it was also the turning point after which she nearly quit the business altogether.

When she returned from performing in Gypsy, Bernadette felt like she’d had enough. One way of putting it was that she “then retired from the business to attend high school”, wanting to have some semblance of a normal scholastic experience “without the interruptions”. But whatever dissatisfaction she was feeling as an early adolescent on stage, she didn’t resolve at school – going as far as saying that while at Quintano’s School for Young Professionals, “she was in pain”.

“When you’re a teenager you’re too aware of yourself,” she recalled. Being a teen and trying to come to terms with of the expectation of the ‘60s that “you are supposed to look like Twiggy, and you don’t, you feel everything is wrong about you”. Everything “was all about tall, skinny, no chest…[and] hair straight”. Little Bernadette with her “mass of [curly] hair and distracting bosom”, as Alex Witchel put it, was never going to fit that mould. “That was not me,” she stated. “At all.”

Her self-consciousness grew to the point that it became overwhelming and asphyxiating. “I was trying desperately to blend in and be normal, but that doesn’t allow creativity to come out,” Bernadette said. “I knew I was acting terrible. The words were sticking in my mouth and all I could think about was how I looked”. It was hard enough just to look at herself (“I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror”), let alone to have other people gawk at her on stage. So she stopped trying. She “didn’t work much from age 13 to 17” in the slightest. Bernadette would later reflect in 1981 in an atypically open and vulnerable interview, “I was very insecure. Insecurity is poison. It’s like wearing chains”.

It was a combination of factors that helped her overcome these feelings of such toxic and weighty burden to draw her back into the public world of performing and the stage. “The two people who helped her most, she says, were David LeGrant, her first acting teacher, and her vocal coach, Jim Gregory.” Jim helped with “[opening] a whole creative world for [her] with singing”; and it was David who’d give her the now infamous and often (mis)quoted line about individuality and being yourself.

Having these kinds of lessons, she reasoned, was “really a wonderful emotional outlet for a kid of 17”. The process of it all was beneficial for her therapeutically – “you have a lot of emotions at that time in your life, and it was great to go to an acting class and use them up”. And Bernadette felt freer on stage than she did out on her own in the ‘real world’, saying “[up there] I don’t have to worry about what I’m doing or saying because I’m doing and saying what I’m supposed to be doing and saying”.

Finally then and with considerable bolstering and support, she grew comfortable with the notion of being visible on stage and in public, and realised she was never going to blend in as part of the chorus so it was simply better to let go of such a futile pursuit.

David LeGrant’s guiding advice to Bernadette (“You’ve got to be original, because if you’re like everyone else, what do they need you for?”) wasn’t just a trite aphorism. For her, it was a life raft. It was the key mental framing device that allowed her to comprehend for the first time that she might actually have intrinsic value as herself. And that it was imperative she let herself use it.

She had always stuck out, yes, but she had to learn how to want to be seen – talking of it as a conscious “choice” she had to make when realising she did “have something to offer”.

Thus soon after Bernadette graduated, she stepped back into productions like in summer stock and then Off-Broadway as she made her debut at that next theatrical level at 18. It wasn’t long before she was discovered in what’s seen as her big break in the unexpected smash hit, Dames at Sea. And so Bernadette Peters, the actress, was back. And she was back with impact and force.

Besides, as she’s also said, she couldn’t do anything else – “if I ever had to do something else to earn a living, I’d be at a total loss”. An aptitude test as a teenager told her so apparently, when she “got minus zero in everything except Theater Arts”. So that was that. Her answer for what she would’ve done if she’d never found acting is both paradoxically exultant and macabre – “I don’t know, probably shot myself!”

Flippant? Maybe. Trivial? No.

Acting is thus undoubtedly related highly to Bernadette’s sense of purpose and self-worth. This is what makes it even more apparent that a show with such personal and historical connections for her, as in Gypsy, was going to be so consequential and impactful to be a part of again as an adult and perform on a public stage.

She’s called inhabiting the role of Rose in the 2003 revival many things: “deeply personal”, “life changing”, “like going through therapy” – to name a few.

In interviews regarding Gypsy and playing the main character, when asked what she had learnt, Bernadette would frequently say something like, “It taught me a lot”. Pressed further about specifics, her answers often hem close to vague platitudes as she maintains her normal tendency of endeavouring to keep her privacy close to her chest.

On one occasion, she actually elaborated somewhat on what she’d learnt, giving a fuller answer than the question is normally afforded anyhow. Beyond all it revealed to her about her mother, she extended to admitting “my capacity for love and my capacity for anger” as aspects in her that the show had permanently altered. Moreover, Rose to her was undoubtedly the “most rewarding and fulfilling acting experience” she had ever had.

But while such deep, personal and emotional depths and memories were being stirred up beneath the surface in private, she was getting vilified in public singularly and repeatedly by New York Post columnist, Michael Riedel.

Even before she’d set foot on stage, Riedel set forth in motion early in the 2003 season a campaign of vocal and opinionated defamation against Bernadette as Rose that she was miscast, insufficiently talented, and would be incapable of executing the role.

Too small, too delicate, too weak, too many curves (and too much knowledge of how to use them). Not bold enough, not loud enough – not Merman enough. Chatter and speculative dissent begun to grow in and around the Broadway theatres.

For such a prestigious and historic musical theatre role, it was always going to be hard to erase the large shadow of an original Merman mould. Ethel was woven into the very fabric of the show, with the rights to Gypsy Rose Lee’s memoirs being obtained at her behest in the first place, and the idiosyncrasies of her voice having been written into the songs themselves by their very authors.

To step out from such a domineering legacy would be a marked challenge at the best of times. Let alone when battling a respiratory infection.

Matters of public perception were certainly not helped when Bernadette then got ill as the show started its preview period and she started missing early performances.

Nor did it help with critical perception that the Tony voting period coincided so synchronously with Gypsy’s first opening months – giving Bernadette no time to recover, find her feet, and settle more healthily into the show for the rest of the run before the all important decisions were made by that omnipotent committee.

The tale of her illness is actually undercut by a more innocent and unsuspecting origin than you’d expect from all the drama and trouble it engendered. Bernadette decided nearing the show’s opening to treat herself to a manicure. In the salon, she was next to a woman very close to her with a frightful sounding cough. Who could’ve known then that this anonymous and inconspicuous lady through a fateful cause-and-event chain would go on to play such a part in what is among the biggest and most enduring Tony Awards “She was robbed!” discourses? Or even more broadly – in also arguably playing a hand in the closure and financial failure of an $8.5 million Broadway show after its disappointing performance at the Tony Awards that ominously “[spelled] trouble at the box office” and led to its premature demise?

Bernadette did not win the Best Actress in a Musical Tony that night on June 6th 2004. The award went instead (not un-controversially) to newcomer Marissa Jaret Winokur for Hairspray.

She did however give one of the most indelibly resonant and frequently re-referenced solo performances at the awards show just before she lost – defying detractors to comprehend how she could be unworthy of the accolade with a rendition of ‘Rose’s Turn’ that has apocryphally earned one of the longest standing ovations seen after such a performance even to date.

Even further and even more apocryphally, she reportedly did so while still under the weather as legend as circulated by musical theatre fans goes – performing “against doctor’s orders” with stories that have her being “afflicted with anything from a 103-degree fever, to pneumonia, to a collapsed lung”.

Seeing then as unfortunately there is no Tony Award speech to draw on here, matter shall be retrieved fittingly from that which she gave just a few years earlier in 1999 for her first win and previous Ethel Merman role in Annie Get Your Gun to wrap all of this together.

As has been illustrated, there are many arguably scary or alarming aspects in Bernadette’s Gypsy narrative. There’s undeniably much darkness and an ardent clamouring for meaning and self-realisation along the road that tracks her journey parallel to the show. But unlike Rose’s hopeless decries of “Why did I do it?” and “What did it get me?”, there was a point for Bernadette.

As her emotional tribute in 1999 went: “I want to thank my mother, who 48 years ago put me in showbusiness. And I want to finally, officially, say to her – thank you. For giving me this wonderful experience and this journey.”

Whatever all of this was, maybe it was worth it after all.

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cecilspeaks · 5 years ago

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163 - “Bravo”

Our moral compass has been demagnetized. Welcome to Night Vale.

Night Vale, Carlos and I went to see a new play the other night. It’s been ages since we went to the theater. I think the last show we saw was “Hamilton”, which is a Tony and Pulitzer winning hip hop musical about figure skater Scott Hamilton, who died in a duel to fellow Olympian Katarina Witt. “Hamilton” was wonderful, but live theater is so expensive. It’s a rare treat for us to get out of the house, what with the cost of tickets plus dinner, parking, a babysitter, tuxedo rentals and all that time spent watching YouTube makeup tutorials for jamming facial recognition cameras.

But my friend Charles Raynor invited us as his special guests to watch the premiere of a new play at the Night Vale Asylum, where Charles is the warden. The play was called “The Disappearance and Cover-up of Flight 18713 as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Night Vale under the Direction of Undercover Agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau.” Or, “18713/NTSB” for short. I’m used to seeing plays at the New Old Opera House or in the high school auditorium. There’s also the Black Box Theatre, which presents some of Night Vale’s most experimental drama from young performance artists. No one has seen any of these shows, or if they have, they’ve never emerged from that doorless black box, its walls perfectly smooth and faintly warm.

But this particular play was at the asylum itself. The Night Vale Asylum perches atop a craggy peak in the Sand Wastes. It’s brutalist concrete walls intermittently slashed with slivers of windows. I do not personally know anyone inside this intimidating institute, other than warden Raynor himself. And I’ll admit to being a bit nervous venturing out at night to a heavily guarded home for the criminally insane. But Carlos put me at ease by rolling his eyes. He said it was neurotypical ableism that makes us think this way. That movies and TV shows often play up harmful tropes about psychopaths and lunatics, planning daring escapes so they can return to a life of criminal misdeeds. Carlos explained that asylums are merely places where we hide away the people who most remind us of the inexplicable fragility of the human brain.

Driving out past the Scrublands under an indigo sky, the full moon low over the horizon backlighting the Night Vale Asylum atop its jagged rocky ridge, my nerves returned. I thought I heard coyotes howling in the distance, but it was the car stereo. Carlos had put on his favorite new Frank Ocean album called “Various Animals Screaming”. When we arrived, warden Raynor greeted us at the gates. Two guards wearing army style green dress uniforms flanked him. Their right breasts were laden with medals, chevrons and stripes. They each were armed with billy clubs, tasers and slingshots, and one of them was wearing an eye patch, but it was positioned in the middle of his forehead.

The warden escorted Carlos and me to our seats, which were simple wood chairs. There were only ten seats total, all in a single row along the rear wall. There was no standard stage to speak of, no curtain. The actors were all in costume in the center of the room, already in character. The other seats were already filled. Warden Raynor, Sheriff Sam, three of Sam’s secret police officers, two of Sam’s overt police officers, and an angel I had never met before, but who introduced themself to me as Erika. With a K, they added. “Nice to meet you, Erika,” I said. “You got ten bucks?” Erika asked. “Uh, sure,” I said. “What for?” “Not everyone gets to know everything,” they said. “You either got it or you don’t, man.” So I handed them ten bucks and minutes later my lower back pain, which has plagued me for the last six months, was gone. I looked back at Erika and I saw the wink at me, or I think they winked? They have ten eyes, so it could have just been an asynchronous blink. It’s hard to even tell what they’re ever looking at.

The play began with an introduction by warden Raynor, who welcomed us all to this unusual night. The first ever performance of an original play by inmates in his asylum. He introduced the writers/directors of the piece. There were three of them, each dressed in an electrical blue jumpsuit. One of them had a blister on his upper lip, another a swollen red lump along the cuticle of his right index finger. One of them had an unceasing nose bleed. I recognized them as the agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau in Washington, who had come to Night Vale two months ago to investigate the disappearance of Delta flight 18713. Sheriff Sam had placed these agents undercover in the asylum to try to meet with an inmate named Doug Biondi, who claimed to have pertinent information about the missing aircraft. Upon remembering this, I flipped quickly through my playbill to find the ensemble members’ names. And there on the title page was the name Doug Biondi, who was cast as airplane pilot. As the warden returned to his seat and before the house lights dimmed, I leaned over to Sheriff Sam and asked, “How is the undercover operation going, Sheriff?” Sam glared at me and said, “I’ve no idea what you mean.” “You know, with the NTSP officers here in the asylum trying to interview Doug Biondi?” I asked perhaps a little loudly for a theater. “The NTSP officers are criminally insane, Sessil,” the Sheriff said unironically and with more than a touch of scold in their tone. “That is why they are here. They are a danger to themselves and others.” I had many more questions, but before I could say anything, the lights faded to black, and I heard the first voice of the play.

“Find us,” called the voice in the dark. “Find us,” it echoed again. A faint glow coated like frost the wild-eyed faces of the inmates on stage. The frantic visages made all the more panic by deep eyeliner, rouge and lipstick. Most were dressed in common street clothes: slacks, jeans, buttoned-down shirts, mid-length pattern skirts. Two were dressed as flight attendants and one as the pilot. I could only presume a small budget, as the uniforms worn by the latter groups were largely suggested by navy blue hats and little plastic wings on their lapels. The pilot wore anachronistic aviation goggles and so it was difficult for me to see and remember the face of this actor, this inmate, Doug Biondi. But I could see his mouth, which was unusually white. The corners of his lips extending well past the width of his eyes. He had an unusual number of teeth in his harsh smile, a smile which never abated, even in his most somber of scenes.

“Weeee surviive,” said Biondi’s pilot character. “Weeeee livve. Weee cannot dieee. Noot here, noot in No..Where.” He said it not like the vague concept of “in no place”, but “No Where”, two words capitalized, like the name of a specific place. Each actor was seated in short tight rows of four, a narrow aisle in between, mimicking the floor plan of a common fuselage. At the front of the troup sat Doug Biondi, as airline pilot. “How did we get here, in No Where?” said one of the passengers. “And how shall we return?” said another. “Only,” they said in unison, “when you find ussss.” This last line they said with a quick twist of their necks towards the audience. Then the scene shifted, the chairs cleared and all of the actors stood in the profile of a Greek chorus. They explained the flight from Detroit, the view of lake Erie, they told stories of different passengers. One who had a job interview, one who was looking for an apartment, another who went to Palm Springs on vacation. They told the story of a bright light and a loud pop, and suddenly the engines were silent. The plane felt still, unmoving, and then the chorus all pantomimed the leaning, concerned gaze out airplane windows. Instead of tops of clouds or distant shapes of great lakes, though, they looked out and saw – children in a gymnasium. They heard the squeak of sneakers and the joyful cries of playful exercise. It felt like minutes, maybe a whole hour. They could not understand what they were seeing. They could not comprehend an elementary school gym six miles above southern Canada. But they were not six miles above southern Canada. They were only a few feet above the American Southwest, inside an airplane, inside an elementary school gymnasium, in a town called Night Vale. And as quickly as they had appeared there, they disappeared. Off the radar, gone from the skies, out of known existence. Throughout this chorus, the speakers filled our ears with the joyful shouts of children, the hollow metallic thumps of red rubber balls, and the collective panicked inhale of a 143 passengers and crew of a displaced plane, and then it was silent. And then it was dark.

A single green light appeared on the far wall, a dot, a blip. A radar blinking on, then off. And the voice of Doug Biondi said: “Weeeeeee are not passengers on a plane. Weeeee are actors. Weeee are inmates of the Asylum of Night Vale, but weeeee do not belong here. Weeee are people who know truths. People who know more than is allowed, and for that, weeeeeeeee are kept in cages. Weeeeeeee are fed poisoned pills and circular logic.” And at this point in the play, I felt movement in our small audience. The warden had stood up and was shouting: “This is not in the script, Doug!” But Doug spoke louder, faster. “Iiiii am not insane, I say! Only the insane would say such a thing they say. Then I am insane, I say. Yes you are, they say. I am trapped, I am framed, I spit out your poisoned pills! I reject your propagandist blather. I know what I know I say. Hold him down they say.” Warden Raynor had gone to the tech board and turned on all the lights. He shouted “code blue” into a radio receiver, and we saw half a dozen security officers in their green medal laden uniforms lurch from the corners of the room, penning the ensemble of inmates into a tight circle in the center. “Return them to their rooms,” the warden called.

But as the guards encroached, the three men from the NTSP stepped to the perimeter of the mass of inmates. They were holding little plastic wings just like those on the costumes of the actors playing flight attendants. One of the NTSP agents, the one with an unceasing nose bleed, opened the back of the wings, revealing a long sharp pin, and thrust it into the neck of a guard. Simultaneously, the other NTSP agents and several other actors did the same, and the guards fell to the ground. One of the NTSP agents, the one with a blister on his upper lip, grabbed the keys and weapons from an unconscious officer. “Dearest audience,” he said in verse. “We mean them no harm. ‘tis but a sleep, a little pharmaceutical rest for a uniformed guard who kept us confined, made life hard for us low level agents doing our jobs, trapped ‘neath the lies of a warden who robs our freedom and murders our spirit. At last we can go, approach the wall and clear it, but heed my warning: as we this coup fly, every man for himself, better run – or die.” And upon this last line, the alarm bells of the asylum rattled my ears and my nerves, shaking Carlos and me from our seats. The inmates scattered in every direction as Sheriff Sam and their officers gave chase. Carlos was nearly stepped on by one of the escapees, and as I bent to help him up, I was knocked over by two officers in full sprint.

When the commotion died down, I looked up and saw Erika still sitting calmly in their chair, and I asked: “Erika, what is happening?” Erika looked down at their playbill, and then back at me, and said: “I think it’s intermission.”

And now the weather.

[“One One Thousand” by Raina Rose rainarose.com]

After 15 minutes, Carlos and I returned to our seats hoping, but not truly believing it really was an intermission. We’ve seen immersive theater before, like “Sleep No More”, an interactive show in New York City where audience members are placed inside a huge warehouse of actors dancing out the plot to “Macbeth”, and at the end everyone is granted the ability to live out the rest of their lives without sleep. It’s expensive and not for everyone, but totally worth it if immersive theater is your thing. But this show was not that. No. “18713/NTSP” had gone wrong. Or, perhaps it had gone right. Under the strict critique of plot structure, character development, and production value, the play failed terribly. But as a piece of political or (agit prop) theater, it was a rousing success. The Sheriff’s Secret Police have placed roadblocks around the entire city, hoping to keep these supposedly dangerous inmates from leaving the area. It is bad optics, to say the least, for the entire population of the town’s asylum to escape custody.

But as Carlos and I left the theater space, we walked down the long corridors, cells and rooms open, no security detail in sight. In one of the cells, below a cot, was a journal. It was the journal of Doug Biondi. Page after page was filled with monologues, narratives and conversations from various people. People who were on a plane, people in transit between checkpoints of life, between relationships, between homes, between jobs, between vacation and work. These stories were written as verbatim dialogue, as if Doug Biandi had transcribed them himself. As if he could hear the voices of those very people. Like former air traffic controller Amelia Anna Alfaro. I wonder if Doug heard the same voices. The same passengers of the missing plane. I had my intern Seamus go down to the library and look up public records on Doug Biondi, hoping to find some connection between Doug and Amelia, but Seamus still has yet to return with that information . I even double checked my playbill looking for Amelia’s name in the cast or crew, but she was not listened here. She was likely never in the asylum.

One thing I did find, though, was a note in the back of Doug’s journal. This note seemed to be in Doug’s own voice. “They tell us we are kept here for our safety, but they keep us here for their safety. They fear what will happen when the people on that plane are found. But I think they have already been found. They should be afraid of what happens when the people on the plane find us.”

Night Vale is on lockdown, so stay home and stay safe, listeners. I do not believe any of us to be in danger from those who escaped the asylum, but I do believe us to be in danger of most everything else. Stay tuned next for a serious of audio clicks, which is definitely not federal agents tapping your radio. Don’t worry about it.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 163 #bravo

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shakespearenews · 6 years ago

Quote

Analyzing characters like Othello, who have committed heinous crimes but found redemption, helped me see past my own mistakes. At the end of the play, the world is right again and this beautiful story has emerged from ugly characters. There’s a sense of belonging that came from Shakespeare. I’ve never felt so supported, like my talent meant something. The past didn’t matter. I had a future.

Asia Johnson, a member of the women’s ensemble in Detroit Public Theatre’s Shakespeare in Prison program.

#shakespeare #othello #prison #incarceration #shakespeare in prison #arts #criminal justice #american theatre

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blackkudos · 5 years ago

Text

Keegan-Michael Key

Keegan-Michael Key (born March 22, 1971) is an American actor, comedian, writer, and producer.

Key co-created and co-starred alongside Jordan Peele in Comedy Central's sketch series Key & Peele (2012–2015) and co-starred in USA Network's Playing House (2014–2017). He spent six seasons as a cast member on Mad TV (2004–2009) and has made guest appearances on the U.S. version of Whose Line is it Anyway? on The CW. He also appeared alongside Peele in the first season of the FX series Fargo in 2014, and had a recurring role on Parks and Recreation from 2013 to 2015. He hosted the U.S. version of The Planet's Funniest Animals on Animal Planet from 2005 until 2008.

Key has had supporting roles in several films, including Pitch Perfect 2 (2015), Don't Think Twice (2016), and Toy Story 4 (2019). Also in 2015, he appeared at the White House Correspondents' Dinner as the Key & Peele character Luther, President Barack Obama's anger translator. Key and Peele produced and starred in the 2016 action-comedy film Keanu. In 2017, Key made his Broadway debut in Steve Martin's Meteor Shower.

Early life

Key was born in Southfield, Michigan on March 22, 1971, the son of black father Leroy McDuffie and white mother Carrie Herr. He was adopted at a young age by a couple from Detroit, Michael Key and Patricia Walsh, who were both social workers. Like his birth parents, his adoptive parents were also a black man and white woman. Through his biological father, Key had two half-brothers, one of whom was comic book writer Dwayne McDuffie (1962–2011). Key only discovered the existence of his siblings after they had both died.

Key attended the University of Detroit Mercy as an undergraduate, earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in theater in 1993, followed by a Master of Fine Arts in theater at Pennsylvania State University in 1996. While at the University of Detroit Mercy, he was a brother of Phi Kappa Theta.

Career

Mad TV

In 2004, Key joined the cast of Mad TV midway into the ninth season. He and Jordan Peele were cast against each other, but both ended up being picked after demonstrating great comedic chemistry. Key played many characters on the show. One of his most famous characters is "Coach Hines", a high school sports coach who frequently disrupts and threatens students and faculty members. On the penultimate episode of Mad TV, Hines revealed that he is the long-lost heir to the Heinz Ketchup company and only became a Catholic school coach to help delinquent teenagers like Yamanashi (Bobby Lee). During seasons 9 and 10, Key appeared as "Dr. Funkenstein" in blaxploitation parodies, with Peele playing the monster. Key also portrayed various guests on Real **********ing Talk like the strong African Rollo Johnson and blind victim Stevie Wonder Washington. He often goes "backstage" as Eugene Struthers, an ecstatic water-or-flower delivery man who accosts celebrities. There is also "Jovan Muskatelle", a shirtless man with a jheri curl and a shower cap. He interrupts live news broadcasts by a reporter (always played by Ike Barinholtz), annoying him with rapid fire accounts of events that have happened frequently exclaiming "It was crazy as hell!" Celebrities that Key impersonated on the show include Ludacris, Snoop Dogg, Roscoe Orman (as his character Gordon from Sesame Street), Matthew Lillard, Bill Cosby, Al Roker, Terrell Owens, Tyler Perry, Keith Richards, Eddie Murphy (as his character James "Thunder" Early from the movie Dreamgirls), Sherman Hemsley (as his character George Jefferson on The Jeffersons), Charles Barkley, Sendhil Ramamurthy (as Mohinder Suresh), Tyson Beckford, Seal (originally played by Peele until Peele left the show at the end of season 13), Sidney Poitier, Lionel Richie, Barack Obama, Kobe Bryant and Jack Haley (as the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz). He also played female celebrities, including Phylicia Rashād, Robin Antin, and Eva Longoria (as Gabrielle Solis on a Desperate Housewives parody).

Key & Peele

Key and his former Mad TV castmate Jordan Peele starred in their own Comedy Central sketch series Key & Peele, which began airing on January 31, 2012 and ran for five seasons until September 9, 2015. Key and his comedy partner Jordan Peele starred in an episode of Epic Rap Battles of History, with Key playing Mahatma Gandhi and Peele playing Martin Luther King Jr. The pair returned to Epic Rap Battles of History with the "Muhammad Ali versus Michael Jordan" battle, with Key portraying Jordan.

Key was introduced by President Barack Obama at the 2015 White House Correspondents' Dinner as Luther, Obama's Anger Translator, one of Key's characters from Key & Peele.

Friends from College

Key plays the most prominent male character, Ethan Turner, on the Netflix ensemble comedy Friends from College, about a group of Harvard University graduates and friends now in their late 30s living in New York City. He plays an award-winning fiction writer who is being encouraged to start writing for young adult fiction audiences.

Other work

Key was one of the founders of Hamtramck, Michigan's Planet Ant Theatre, and was a member of the Second City Detroit's mainstage cast before joining the Second City e.t.c. theater in Chicago. Key co-founded the Detroit Creativity Project along with Beth Hagenlocker, Marc Evan Jackson, Margaret Edwartowski, and Larry Joe Campbell. The Detroit Creativity Project teaches students in Detroit improvisation as a way to improve their communication skills. Key performed with The 313, an improv group formed with other members of Second City Hollywood that appears around the country. The 313 is made up primarily of former Detroit residents and named for Detroit's area code. Key also hosted Animal Planet's The Planet's Funniest Animals.

He made a cameo in "Weird Al" Yankovic's video "White & Nerdy" with fellow Mad TV co-star Jordan Peele. In 2009, Key hosted GSN's "Big Saturday Night", and has co-starred in Gary Unmarried on CBS. Key was a panelist on the NPR comedy quiz show Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me... on March 27 and July 24, 2010. Key has been in several episodes of Reno 911! as the "Theoretical Criminal".

Key and Peele were featured on the cover and in a series of full-page comic photos illustrating The New York Times Magazine article "Is Giving the Secret to Getting Ahead?" on March 31, 2013. A live-action video version was also featured on the Times' website. Key co-stars in the horror-comedy Hell Baby. Key is one of the rotating "fourth chair" performers in the 2013 revival of Whose Line Is It Anyway?.

In addition to Key & Peele, he also co-starred in the USA Network comedy series Playing House, which began airing in April 2014.

Together with his comedy partner Jordan Peele, Key played an FBI agent in a recurring role in the 2014 FX crime drama Fargo.

Key was involved in audio episodes for the marketing campaign, "Hunt the Truth" on the website for the video game Halo 5: Guardians, voicing a fictional journalist and war photographer named Benjamin Giraud, who investigates the Master Chief's background.

Key has had small supporting roles in numerous films, including 2014's Horrible Bosses 2, Let's Be Cops and the animated The Lego Movie, as well as Pitch Perfect 2 and Tomorrowland in 2015. Key and Peele are currently working with Judd Apatow on a feature-length film for Universal Pictures.

Key is one of several hosts of the podcast Historically Black by American Public Media and The Washington Post.

In the summer of 2017 Key returned to the theatre after what he characterized as a "19-year detour into sketch comedy" for a production of Hamlet at New York's Public Theater, playing Horatio opposite Oscar Isaac in the title role. Key, who is a Shakespearean-trained actor, fulfilled his lifelong dream to play Horatio and received rave reviews for his performance. The Hollywood Reporter's David Rooney noted that Key's comedic skills were on full display, "...but his ease with the verse and stirring sensitivity [was] a revelation."

Key voice acted in The Star, the animated film based on the Nativity of Jesus. He later went on to voice Ducky in Toy Story 4 and Kamari in The Lion King.

In 2017, Key made his Broadway debut in Steve Martin's comedy Meteor Shower.

Brain Games

Key currently hosts Brain Games on National Geographic

Personal life

Key was married to actress and dialect coach Cynthia Blaise from 1998 until 2017. They were legally separated in November 2015, with Key filing for divorce the following month. He married producer and director Elisa Key (formerly Elisa Pugliese) in New York City on June 8, 2018.

Key is a Christian and has practiced Buddhism, Catholicism, and Evangelicalism in the past. Being biracial has been a source of comedic material for Key, who told Terry Gross in an interview for NPR, "I think the reason Jordan and I became actors is because we did a fair amount of code-switching growing up and still do."

Philanthropy

Key has worked with the Young Storytellers Foundation as an actor for their annual fundraiser alongside Max Greenfield, Jack Black and Judy Greer.

#03/22

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queenarticlearchive · 6 years ago

Photo

September 11, 1976

Phil McNeill

New Musical Express

If punters queue when they’ve already got tickets…

…You’re witnessing A Phenomen. And such was the situation when Queen played the Edinburgh Festival - with supporters of The Young Pretender paying their man and his men the ultimate tribute… But what of the music? What of the future? Is our combination-clad Hero prancing up a blind alley?

It’s a freezing Edinburgh wind that whips up the bare slope by the Playhouse Theatre to torment the massed masochists who queue, strung out a full quarter of a mile, for Queen’s first British gig of 1976.

Masochists? Am I revealing my prejudice against the four wonderboys already? Actually, no: masochists because they’ve all got tickets already, and, while the pub the other side of the theatre stands almost empty, these kids are catching pneumonia for nothing in their impatience to reach their already allotted seats.

Baffled, photographer Chalkie Davies and I forsake the Scotch queue for the one inside the pub…

Later, in the Playhouse, Supercharge do their obscene thing to the delight of the packed audience. They’ve lost keyboardist Iain Bradshow, at least for tonight, and the consequent weakening in the band’s already clanky rhythmic mesh is disturbing. But that famed Scots audience does its nut.

Whether it’s the Bay City Rollers spot, the new punk rock leapabout or a completely serious, lopsided semi-funk song, the response is probably as strong as Superchange have ever had anywhere - and this is distinctly an off night!

The Liverpool layabouts troop off and the “We want Queen” chants strike up as scurrying roadies prepare a spartan stage: no clever backdrops and stuff, just Roger Taylor’s mounds of cymbals in front of that ever-present gong and Brian May’s mountain of AC30s.

Darkness...gaspo… a clashing gong… squeals of delight from the youth next to me...yer usual symphonic electronic atmospheric fanfare sort of thing… fading up into the Gilbert and Sullivan middle section of “Bohemian Rhapsody”...a welling up of dry ice...clamorous welcome from the audience..the youth next to me digs his elbows in my ribs and bounces on his seat in delirium…

And they’re on, racing straight out of the recorded “Bohemian Rhapsody” into a live rendition of the heavy riff section that follows. Lights flash madly, there’s smoke all over the place, the youth next to me is screaming with joy, as are 3,000 other lunatic Scotspeople. If explosions aren’t going off it feels like it, and I jot down what Freddie Mercury is wearing in an attempt to keep a grip on my reeling brain.

A white boiler suit, it says here. What professionalism. That’s like a war correspondent noting the time as the wall he’s leaning on gets demolished by a tank.

The relentless sensory bombardment continues as Queen bomb out of “BoRhap” - “just gotta get right outta here”, and how can I disagree? - into a harsh melange of heavy metal riffs plastered with flash harmonies, which in turn gives way to a fast intrumental.

Basically it’s rubbish, a theatrical synthesis of the grossest lumps of regimented noise the sometime power trio can contrive. As they thunder away Mercury emerges from the wings once more, looking like a frog in a balletic white skintight catsuit, and magisterially conjures up giant flashes that erupt deafeningly out of the stage.

The audience do likewise from their serried seats.

Queen have arrived, in more ways than one. Britain’s most successful group of the decade poutingly confront their loyal subjects.

The drift of the piece is obvious, maybe. The crowd loves ‘em and the critic hates them. Well, as it happens I quite like them, but generally that’s a fair picture of rock press attitudes to Queen: at the end of the gig, when the only possible view of the band involved standing on the shoulders of the person jumping up and down on the seat in front of you, I picked out two isolated, sour faces. Critics.

It wasn’t always like that: briefly, at the beginning of ‘75, Queen had a mass audience and critical respect. Dave Downing, whose newly published book, Future Rock, ranges incisively across the whole spectrum of heavyweight rock - Dylan, Reed, Bowie, Floyd, et al - reviewed “Sheer Heart Attack” alongside Sparks’ “Propaganda” in Let It Rock, January 1975:

“I find Ron Mael’s lyrics offensively lacking any conviction but pride in their own cleverness…. The arrangements conquer all in their streamlined assurance…. I have visions of a Gilbert O’Sullivan gone progressive….”

Change that to Gilbert and Sullivan and it could easily be directed at “A Night At The Opera”. However, Downing had this to say of “Sheer Heart Attack”:

“In stark contrast we have Queen’s third album….this is the best new band I’ve heard for a long, long time….Queen have convinced me that the division of rock into heavy soft has been largely a way of covering up the lack of energy in either. Whether rocking, ballading, whatever….they’ve got energy to spare. They have the old Beatles-style oomph.

“....Brian May’s guitar stalks Freddie Mercury’s vocals with as much power, and probably more ingenuity, than Ronno achieved in the heady days of ‘Panic In Detroit’....

“....Freddie Mercury’s voice is equally amazing, hampered only by the lack of lyrics to do it and the music justice. Some rock bands get hampered by depth-lyrics; I think Queen would just grow.

“But that’s a hope rather than a criticism. The superb gloss on this record covers the real gold, rather than, as I fear in Sparks’ case, just substitutes for it….”

Right, Queen at the time of “Sheer Heart Attack” were poised, ready to choose pretty much whichever direction and status they fancied. They had fought through the original drawbacks of being camp followers churning out rather grotesque Led Zeppelin rip-offs, to become a tough, stylish unit coasting on the back of a devastating single, “Killer Queen”.

Although they lacked Bowie’s way with words, the initial implications of the name still clung to them, and it seemed, listening to “Sheer Heart Attack”, that all they needed were some hot lyrics and a little discipline to instate them as not only the most popular Britrockers since Bowie, but also the best.

The first thing that hits you on that album, after a snatch of fairground FX is vibrant power as May leads the ensemble through the whirlwind of “Brighton Rock”. It explodes with a kind of seaside energy to match his mundane holiday romance lyrics, and stakes out May’s own preferred patch on the words map: storytelling.

That type of power is almost entirely absent from “Opera”, and even in “Brighton Rock” it gets horribly dissipated by a ridiculous guitar solo, May following himself up and down the scale in a meaningless exercise quite divorced from the rest of the number.

Another type of power also missing from “Opera”, is found in “Now I’m Here”, a Who-ish (“I Can See for Miles”) feel leading into brilliant beefy harmonies - very much in the mould of Roy Thomas Baker, Queen producer throughout their career, and now used to good use on Sunfighter’s “Drag Race Queen” - which wouldn’t get a look-in among all the breathy harmonies of “Opera”.

It’s great rock, strong and goodtime, apparently about Queen’s US tour with Mott the Hoople.

Elsewhere on “Sheer Heart Attack”, however, lay the seeds of Queen’s decline.

“Bring Back That Leroy Brown” was the first indication of their capabilities completely outside rock. As such it was immaculately performed, a camp minstrel pastiche, but unwelcome.

“Lap Of The Gods (Part One)” featured and unnecessarily ostentatious intro; “Flick Of The Wrist”, a murkily heavy song with a uplifting Baker buzz of a chorus, May’s guitar splattered all over the place in another facet of aggression that would soon disappear, was unfortunately a prototype for the appalling “Death On Two Legs”.

“Death”, the opening track of “ANATO”, is seemingly aimed at their previous manager to John Reid. Astounding dense musically, its lyrics are horribly strident and self-righteous, a blinkered, vindictive tirade that says more about the writer than his subject.

This sort of unflinching immaturity epitomises the Queen scene to some extent: infants on the loose with the weapon of technology, everything sublimated to technique.

“Flick Of The Wrist”, its predecessor, was similarly nasty - and apparently dealt with the same topic - but it succeeds where “Death” does not because the singing is sublimated to the music and, particularly, because the words are secondary to the melody.

In Edinburgh “Flick Of The Wrist” comes fourth, and it’s not as good as the record, possibly because they’re struggling somewhat on the faster songs.

They’ve already done “Sweet Lady” from ANATO”, Mercury singing well and the band thundering confidently. But suddenly Brian May’s guitar goes out of tune from all the crashing it’s received, and he drags the tempo. The final crescendo almost catches fire, but could do better.

Freddie toasts Edinburgh with champagne before he and May, moodily posed under blue spots, venture timorously into the medievally romantic “White Queen” from “Queen II”. Freddie goes to the piano for May’s curling, echoed solo, and we catch up with ourselves on “Flick”.

Here May’s problem is highlighted, he can’t get a decent uptempo solo together. The song is pounding along, but it’s like a cover-up, charging through seemingly pointless changes with throwaway solos, as if they’re attempting to dazzle you with workrate, a treasure trove of superficialities.

John Deacon plays a strong bass, holding up the song if necessary, and Roger Taylor, while seeming rather detached from proceedings up on his high riser, plays solid, varied drums. Mercury’s singing is superb, and on this might it’s mainly May whose playing isn’t quite up to scratch.

The medley comes next, and it brings a little warmth to the garish, posturing event. John Deacon’s “You’re My Best Friend” comprises the first part. Like “Misfire”, his semi-Caribbean pop-rocker on “Sheer Heart Attack”, it’s the friendliest track on “Opera”, and, while May and Mercury mess with every musical genre known to man, the only straight rock song apart from Taylor’s exhilarating “I’m In Love With My Car”.

Onstage, Mercury’s lead vocal floats beautifully on the band’s okay harmonies, and the audience clap along with the lazy rhythm. May’s guitar solo isn’t loud enough, and he hits a horrible chord at the end of it, but it’s a good break.

The two-note chime at the end of “You’re My Best Friend”, a similar device to the end of “Killer Queen”, leads into “Bohemian Rhapsody”.

On record, “Bo Rhap” epitomises the heavy-handed idiocy that bugs their last album. There are actually a few great touches in the rambling epic, notably the guitar break that follows the operatic bit, with its sudden halved phrases towards the end and the subtle way May’s fade out figure is continued by Mercury’s solo piano. But the rest is cumbersome and, where not plainly stupid, pompous and unimaginative.

For some reason Brian May seemed to have lost all feeling for rock on “Opera”, and the first guitar break on “Rhapsody” was the album’s sole unscrambled solo bar the period piece, “Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon”. And as for Beelzebub…

But the words of “Bohemian Rhapsody” are even worse than the music. The basic scenario would seem to be the romanticised alienation of a “poor boy” who indulges Mercury’s gun fetish by killing a man, leading to some kind of tug-of-war between, er, two forces. Life and death? Heaven and hell? Does Freddie know?

There’s that brief stab of “just gotta get out of here” defiance, but we finish on the fatalism of “anyway the wind blows…” A vague tale of idealised emotions that quite possibly means nothing at all.

Mercury’s songs do have a tendency to be vague to the point of meaninglessness - where they’re not utterly trivial anyway. Triviality I can take- “Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon”, for instance, where Queen’s technical skill turns a brief, twee ditty into a tour-de-force, with a great guitar break in what I think of as Brian May’s Mrs. Dale’s Diary style and one particularly wonderful harmony line on “there he goes again” - but the depths of pretension are plumbed on Mercury’s more “serious” songs.

These are actually fairly rare, but Mercury’s deepest opus outside of “Rhapsody” is probably “In The Lap Of The Gods” on “Sheer Heart Attack”, a portentous, monolithic singalong which I like a lot musically, but whose only discernible meaning is, like the conclusion of “Rhapsody”, that old vague predestination schtick.

The rest of Mercury’s oeuvre consists of live ballads (the melodically poignant, lyrically incomprehensible “Lily Of The Valley” from “Attack” and the more narcissistic, less focussed, meandering “Love Of My Life”, least memorable on “Opera”); bitchiness (that horrible duo, “Flick Of The Wrist” and “Death On Two Legs”); and weird period pieces (“Leroy Brown”, “Lazing”, and “Seaside Rendezvous” from “Opera”).

“Seaside Rendezvous” is pretty interesting stuff, illustrating the bizarre purism that prompts Queen to boast “No Synthesisers” on their album sleeves. A long, ‘20s-style piece, it’s fully orchestrated with instrumental passages by both brass and woodwind sections - performed entirely on vocals!

It’s astounding. Queen are perfectionists, as we all know; perfect confectionists. Even Mercury’s lead vocal is done, as on a lot of the album, line by line to get that bursting out of the speaker effect.

And therein lies their undoing, for they seem to have spent so long working on “A Night At The Opera” that they completely lost sight of the record they were making, coming out with shallow perfection without the least hint of the fire of “Sheer Heart Attack”.

However, returning to Freddie’s oeuvre: the next song in the Edinburgh medley, following on from “Bohemian Rhapsody” - and missing the operatics, thank god - is “Killer Queen”.

What a song. Although they take it slower than on record it still sounds slightly rushed, the ideas fall so thick and fast.

It has so many virtues that “Opera” lacks: interesting music (that got neglected on “ANATO” in favour of performance); brevity; flash (“Opera” is positively pedestrian compared to the swagger of this mid-tempo marvel); and it’s unpretentious in its triviality, something that none of the work - at - it - for - six - months - to - get - the - vocals - sounding - like - George - Formby’s ukelele trivia on “Opera” could claim.

Back live, it transforms into the noisy “March Of The Black Queen” from “Queen II” and thence to the end of “Rhapsody”. Kimono Taylor’s gong jerks us into a snazzy rendition of “Leroy Brown”, purely instrumental, and end medley.

“Brighton Rock” follows, red hot and awful tight, Taylor’s falsetto screaming over the top, until…

Oh no, it’s this guitar virtuoso bit, where the others go off and leave May to fiddle about with his patented delayed action devices. The man has little idea of stage craft standing awkwardly on Freddie’s promontory and dashing back to his amp every now and then to twiddle another knob. The performance is clever, but he’s hardly playing great music - enough’s quite enough.

At points during this intermediate solo May hits something good - a glassy, Japanesey section, a mellow, symphonic bit - but his individual slot is plagued by the fault that haunts Queen and devalues what good stuff they do play: they’ve got no taste. Don’t know good from bad.

They can perform, and they’re very bright boys (according to Larry Pryce’s unwonderfully written and uninformative Official Biography Of Queen, Brian may or may not have a PhD in Astronomy, Mercury a degree in graphics and illustration, Deacon an honours degree in electronics, and Taylor a degree in biology) but as for taste…

As if to emphasise that point, Taylor returns to do his dumb trick with lager on his tomtoms and they lumber into a bunch of monotonous, archetypal heavy metal riffs.

Next song, “‘39”, has the four down front - May on acoustic and Taylor on tambourine and bass drum.

My, they look well-coifed. Mercury demonstrates his fine voice again.

A newie, “You Take My Breath Away”, from the album currently known as “A Day At The Races” - half-finished - shows Freddie still pludding the fragile ballad vein, a hesitant, precious ditty accompanied by lone piano, old fashioned and unexceptional.

But then it’s Brian’s big moment, composition-wise: “The Prophet’s Song.” In Pryce’s book May explains that the plot came to him in a dream: “...a dream concerning revenge, only in the dream I wasn’t able to work out what it was revenge for.”

So out of the astronomer’s subconscious comes this Noah’s Ark parable seemingly set in the present, with a ship full of humans apparently heading off into space.

Musically it’s “Old English”, according to Roger Taylor, the rock equivalent of a Prussian military division marching to the Crusades, marred by the most fatuously self-indulgent acapella nonsense imaginable in the middle.

If Queen were chameleons to begin with (Zep meets Bowie), they’re even more that way inclined now, changing personality completely from one song to the next (George Formby meets Cecil B. DeMille meets…) It’s a treatment to which May’s songs lend themselves.

“Good Company” is a very English tale, another vague moral story, done Formby style, with an extraordinary guitar ensemble imitating a complete trad jazz band, another labour of months for a trivial piece of flash.

“‘39”, the acoustic song, seems to be another slice of science fiction, an obscure folk tale which disguises its meaning frustratingly well. Nice feel, though.

Onstage “The Prophet’s Song” is launched amid billows of dry ice and taped wind. As they muscle their way through the heavy chorus I keep expecting them to bump into one another in the confusion, but they manage not to. Anyway, the others clear off when Mercury goes into his ridiculous echoed vocals workout, a one-man Swingle Singers, appalling narcissism.

The audience, to their shame, seem entranced by the spectacle of the great poseur and his myriad voices. Nauseating.

At the end of the song to revolving globes descend and a tape of jangling piano speeds dizzyingly. The globes rise - UFOs taking off?

Anyway, it gives Fred a chance to change into a grotesque black outfit, and suddenly we’re back into the flashing lights/strobes.racing adrenalin scene again with “Stone Cold Crazy”, very fast and heavy, May playing a good scientific solo.

Freddie goes pianoing again for “Doing All Right” from “Queen”, slow and laconic with waterfalling guitar and lovely harmonies, but that gives way to a lousy solo over an unexpectedly Brazilian riff and more unnecessary changes. What are they trying to hide?

“Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon” is neat, and then the crowd get “Keep Yourself Alive”, which they’ve been baying for. It’s an okay song, but they do it terribly heavy and insult the listener with their soulless, declamatory attempts at communication.

Queen almost boogie on “Tie Your Momma Down”, also from the new LP, the most straightforward song so far with a slide break that veers towards a 12-bar. Freddie postures crassly under the rather inept lighting.

“Liar” from “Queen” comes in on a Bo Diddley beat, and as it gets into typical Queen HM jaggedness May slings out a real nasty phrase that sneers at the ineffectual stuff he’s played all evening.

As it dissolves into aimlessness it becomes obvious that Queen live are some great songs, an image and a lot of noise. Their heavy metal is no better than the likes of Nazareth, unfocussed, with no real dynamics outside of structural party tricks. A cover-up job for essentially lumpen music… yet they are capable of so much more.

“Lap Of The Gods” picks things up, its relentless chorus rising and falling on good chords - a rare commodity for Queen, as is its stable rhythm - and as the stage vanishes beneath dry ice they kiss goodbye.

Now this I don’t believe. Never in my life, outside of the likes of the Rollers, have I encountered such a hysterical response to a band. It’s like a riot, kids charging about in the smoky darkness, and if Queen don’t get back there soon this lot are going to knock the place down.

The encore is the great “Now I’m Here”, followed by their “Rock’n’roll” medley of “Big Spender” and “Jailhouse Rock.” They really shouldn’t do that. Mercury’s got no idea about getting down and having a good time, and his attempts to get audience participation are laughable. It’s scrappy stuff, and even their rock’n’roll is spoilt by too many changes!

As for where Queen go from here, the two songs they played from the next album were undistinguished, and can give no hint of what it will contain.

Nowever, it’s pretty obvious they’ve driven so far up their particular blind alley that there’s virtually no hope of them ever fulfilling the potential that was there in “Sheer Heart Attack.” They could have been giants of real music, but it seems they are destined to remain the most perfect indulgence in rock. Masters of style, void of content.

#1976 #a night at the opera #review #new musical express #queen

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grahamstoney · 2 years ago

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MUSE President Defends Heteronormative Gender Stereotypes In Upcoming Production of Guys & Dolls, Saying “It’s Hilarious”

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/shows/muse-president-defends-heteronormative-gender-stereotypes-in-upcoming-production-of-guys-dolls-saying-its-hilarious

MUSE President Defends Heteronormative Gender Stereotypes In Upcoming Production of Guys & Dolls, Saying “It’s Hilarious”

Sydney University Musical Theatre Ensemble (MUSE) president Daniel Baykitch has responded to criticism that the society’s upcoming 2022 production of Guys and Dolls employs heteronormative gender stereotypes by stating, “Yeah. But it’s hilarious.”

The production team has brushed off criticism for casting leading roles Nathan Detroit (Oscar Seifried), Miss Adelaide (Claudia Redolfi), Sky Masterson (Tavis Bancroft), and Miss Sarah Brown (Belinda Thomas) based purely on talent and ability demonstrated during the audition process, without any apparent concern for increasing non-binary gender diversity.

Other major characters such as Nicely-nicely Johnson (Louis Vinciguerra), Benny Southstreet (Jesse Donaldson-Jarrett), Rusty Charlie (Kieren Gregory) and Big Jule (Graham Stoney) also appear to have been awarded based on merit without any attempt to address historical injustices that occurred long before any of them were born.

“It’s a musical comedy classic,” said Producer Gayathri Kathir, adding that they were just trying to put on a fun show for everyone and didn’t think gender would be such an issue for a comedy about how the two traditional genders traditionally related in the 1950s.

Director William Rogut pointed out that several cast members who did not identify as male were nevertheless cast in roles traditionally played by men, including Harry The Horse (Georgia Togher) and General Cartwright (Maggie Hartsuyker). “They’re doing a brilliant job of it too,” he said, while adding that casting Avide Avernathie (Andrew Smallbone) was obviously anti-ageist, as if this were somehow sufficient to satisfy the modern woke agenda.

Assistant director Daniel Sirmai highlighted the integrity of the casting process saying, “This is the best cast MUSE has assembled for any production of Guys and Dolls all year!”

When it was pointed out to choreographer Sophie Highmore that the Hotbox dancers (Lisa Kanatli, Johanna Kleinert, Paris Freed, Georgia Simic, and Caitlin Whiter) are all beautiful stereotypical cis females, she responded, “Yes, and their dancing is amazing!”

Musical director Kevin Wang pointed out that the show has arguably the best score of any Broadway musical. “That’s why I wanted to do it,” he said, adding that the rich dissonant harmonies of the crap shooter songs contrasting with the consonance of the mission tunes has stood the test of time.

Assistant musical director Rachael Pearson agreed, pointing to the lack of gender dysphoria in the show’s beautiful melodies.

Costume designer Caroline Xie said that the use of traditional heteronormative 1950’s costume styling is actually a positive thing, because it avoids confusing the audience and prevents characters being misgendered. “Nobody likes being misgendered,” she added.

Ensemble members Jack Fahd, Bonnie Fitzgerald, and Alice Kotowicz dismissed the controversy by saying that the rehearsals were so much fun that the show is bound to be a hit, while the actor playing Lt. Brannigan (John Vrionis) simply said, “I never saw crap shooters spend so much time in a Mission!”

Nevertheless, critics suggested that the inclusion of only two traditional genders and the focus on heterosexual attraction in the original 1930’s story by Damon Runyon, 1950 script by Frank Loesser and book by Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows displayed a distinct lack of cultural foresight. The fact that the show is hugely entertaining in the way it deals with universal themes of love, loss, and redemption, and its parallels to Shakespeare’s classic Romeo and Juliet is no excuse.

Socialist Alliance have criticised MUSE for employing a capitalistic monopoly by charging money for tickets and making them available though only one vendor. “We’ve got to fund the show somehow, and at only $40 for adults or $35 for students the tickets are a bargain,” said MUSE secretary India Wilson adding, “At only $28 a ticket, I’m sure the socialists would love to make a group booking. That’s way cheaper than overthrowing the government.”

Gender diversity advocates have suggested that the best way to protest Guys and Dolls’ egregious assault on modern thinking is to buy all the tickets and stack the seats with your friends having robust ego integrity, to avoid any snowflakes being triggered by the show’s patriarchal suggestion that whatever a man does, “The guy’s only doing it for some doll.”

Whether MUSE will get away with this offensive act simply by putting on a show that’s hilarious and hugely entertaining remains to be seen. Find out for yourself by going along.

MUSE at USYD presents: Guys and Dolls 12th – 15th October 2022 ARA Darling Quarter Theatre Buy your tickets here. Let your friends know by RSVP on Facebook.

GUYS AND DOLLS A Musical Fable of Broadway Based on a story and characters of Damon Runyon Music and lyrics by Frank Loesser Book by Abe Burrows and Jo Swerling Licensed exclusively by Music Theatre International (Australasia). All performance materials supplied by Hal Leonard Australia

Note: All the quotes in this article are made up. The people cited are all real, but they never actually said them. The show is also real, and the cast really are amazing. Go see it.

#Guys and Dolls #Shows

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earith · 6 years ago

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Lila Coogan, Stephen Brower, and Jason Michael Evans Will Star in Anastasia Tour

Lila Coogan has been cast in the starring role of the national tour of Anastasia, the Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty musical based on the 1997 animated film that begins a 30-city U.S. national tour in Schenectady, New York, this fall.

Joining Coogan will be Stephen Brower as Dmitry, Jason Michael Evans as Gleb, Joy Franz as Dowager Empress, Tari Kelly as Countess Lily, Edward Staudenmayer as Vlad, and Victoria Amelia Bingham as Little Anastasia.

The ensemble includes Brianna Abruzzo, Ronnie S. Bowman Jr., Alison Ewing, Peter Garza, Jeremiah Ginn, Brett-Marco Glauser, Lucy Horton, Mary Illes, Fred Inkley, Kourtney Keitt, Beth Stafford Laird, Mark MacKillop, Kenneth Michael Murray,Taylor Quick, Claire Rathbun, Michael McCorry Rose, Matt Rosell, Sareen Tchekmedyian, and Addison Mackynzie Valentino.

Tour dates follow: Schenectady, New York: Proctors Theatre October 9–14 Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: Benedum Center October 16–21 Greenville, South Carolina: Peace Center October 23–28 Washington, D.C.: Kennedy Center Opera House October 30–November 25 Providence, Rhode Island: Providence PAC November 27–December 2 Baltimore, Maryland: Hippodrome Theatre December 4–9 St. Louis, Missouri: Fabulous Fox Theatre December 26–January 6, 2019 Appleton, Wisconsin: Fox Cities PAC January 8–13 East Lansing, Michigan: Wharton Center January 15–20 San Antonio, Texas: Majestic Theatre February 5–10 Austin, Texas: Bass Hall February 12–17 Dallas, Texas: Music Hall February 19–March 3 Houston, Texas: Hobby Center March 5–10 Kansas City, Missouri: Music Hall March 12–17 Nashville, Tennessee: TPAC March 19–24 Chicago, Illinois: Oriental Theatre March 26–April 7 Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: Academy of Music April 9–14 Durham, North Carolina: Durham PAC April 16–April 21 Fort Lauderdale, Florida: Broward Center April 23–June 5 Tampa, Florida: Straz Center May 7–12 Orlando, Florida: Dr. Phillips Center May 14–19 Fort Worth, Texas: Bass Performance Hall May 28–June 2 Memphis, Tennessee: Orpheum Theatre June 4–9 Detroit, Michigan: Fisher Theatre June 11–23 Grand Rapids, Michigan: Devos Hall June 25–30 Milwaukee, Wisconsin: Marcus Center July 23– 28 Madison, Wisconsin: Overture Hall July 30–August 4 Denver, Colorado: Buell Theatre August 7–18 San Francisco, California: Golden Gate Theatre September 3–29

#anastasia the musical #anastasia tour #long post for ts #not gonna put it all over the tags but figure the dates might be useful

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lboogie1906 · 5 months ago

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David Alan Grier (June 30, 1956) is an actor and comedian. He is known for his work on the sketch comedy television show In Living Color, as Bernard on Damon (1998), as David Bellows on Life with Bonnie (2002–04), as Joe Carmichael on The Carmichael Show (2015–17), as Hal on A Series of Unfortunate Events (2018), and for his movie roles such as Roger in Streamers (1983), Carl Bentley in Jumanji (1995), and Jim Fields in Bewitched (2005).

He graduated from Detroit’s magnet high school, Cass Tech, and received a BA in Radio, Television, and Film from the University of Michigan, and an MFA. from the Yale School of Drama. He was singled out by visiting lecturer, Rachel Roberts, performing for her one night in a piece entitled The Place of the Spirit Dance.

After graduating from Yale, he landed the role of Jackie Robinson in the short-lived Broadway musical The First. He was nominated for a Tony Award for Best Featured Actor in a Musical and won the Theatre World Award for The First. He got his start on the National Public Radio radio drama adaptation of Star Wars in 1981. He was the voice of a nameless X-wing fighter pilot during the Battle of Yavin.

He starred as James “Thunder” Early in the hit Broadway musical Dreamgirls. He made his film debut in 1983 in Streamers, directed by Robert Altman. He won the Golden Lion for Best Actor at the Venice Film Festival for the film. He appeared in the Negro Ensemble Company production A Soldier’s Play and reprised his role in the film version of A Soldier’s Story. He appeared as a geology professor at Hillman College in A Different World.

In January 2020, he returned to the stage for the Broadway production of A Soldier’s Play, this time playing Tech Sergeant Vernon C. Waters, the role originated by Adolph Caesar in the off-Broadway production. For this role, he won the Tony Award for Best Featured Actor in a Play.

He married to Maritza Rivera (1997). He married Christine Y. Kim (2007-09) an associate curator of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. They have a daughter. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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kneipho · 6 years ago

Link

Via: Bay Area Plays

Full List as of 8/31/18: San Francisco - Peninsula - North Bay -East Bay - South Bay

SAN FRANCISCO

42nd Street Moon – “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” – Oct. 3rd – 21st

African-American Shakespeare Company – “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf” – Sept. 15th – 29th

American Conservatory Theatre (ACT) – “Sweat” – Sept. 26th – Oct. 21st “Men on Boats” – Oct. 17th – Dec. 16th

Awesome Theatre – “Terror-Rama III: Dead the Whole Time” – Oct. 12th – 27th

Bay Area Musicals –

Beach Blanket Babylon (OPEN-ENDED)

Bindlestiff Studio – “Stories High XViii” – Through Aug. 25th

Brava Theater Center –

Crescent Moon Theater –

Crowded Fire Theater – “Church” – Sept. 13th – Oct. 6th

Curran –

Custom Made Theatre Company – “The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?” – Sept. 20th – Oct. 20th

The Department of Badassery

Exit Theatre – “San Francisco Fringe Festival” – Sept. 6th – 15th

Faultline Theater Company –

Ferocious Lotus –

foolsFury –

Golden Thread Productions – “Kiss” (presented at Shotgun Players in Berkeley)- Aug. 23rd – Sept. 23rd

Killing My Lobster – “North by North Lobster” – Oct. 18th – 27th

Lamplighters – “The Pirates of Penzance” – Aug. 4th – 26th

Landmark Musical Theatre –

Lorraine Hansberry Theatre –

The Magic Theatre – “The Resting Place” – Oct. 10th – Nov. 4th

The Marsh – “The Clyde Always Show” – Through Aug. 29th “Keeping Up With the Jorgensons” – Through Aug. 25th “Bravo 25: Your A.I. Therapist Will See You Now” – Sept. 20th – Oct. 27th “The Waiting Period” – Through Oct. 28th “Why Would I Mispronounce My Own Name” – Oct. 25th – Dec. 8th “Acid Test: The Many Incarnations of Ram Dass” – Sept. 21st – Nov. 4th

New Conservatory Theatre Center – “Red Scare on Sunset” – Sept. 21st – Oct. 21st “Cardboard Piano” – Oct. 26th – Dec. 2nd

The Playwright’s Center of San Francisco –

Playwrights Foundation – “Bay Area Playwright’s Festival” – July 20th – 29th

Ray of Light Theatre – “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” – Sept. 14th – Oct. 6th

The Refuge – “Cabaret” – July 6th – 15th

San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Company –

San Francisco Mime Troupe – “Seeing Red: A Time-Traveling Musical – Begins July 4th (various locations)

San Francisco Playhouse – “You Mean to Do Me Harm” – Sept. 18th – Nov. 3rd “Sunday in the Park with George” – Through Sept. 8th

Shelton Theater – “Baby Doll” – Sept. 13th – Nov. 3rd

SHNSF – “Les Miserables” – Through Aug. 26th “The Phantom of the Opera” – Sept. 5th – 30th “On Your Feet! The Emilio and Gloria Estefan Broadway Musical” – Sept. 11th – Oct. 7th

Theatre Rhinoceros –

Thrillpeddlers

Troupe Theatre – “The Future is in Eggs” – Aug. 25th – 26th

Virago Theatre Company

Z Space – “#GetGandhi” – Aug. 10th – 26th

PENINSULA

Broadway by the Bay, Redwood City – “Saturday Night Fever” – Aug. 10th – 26th

Coastal Repertory Theatre, Half Moon Bay – “Avenue Q” – July 27th – Aug. 26th “Death of a Salesman” – Sept. 28th – Oct. 28th

Dragon Theatre, Redwood City – “The (curious case of the) Watson Intelligence” – Sept. 14th – Oct. 7th

Fuse Theatre, Redwood City –

Hillbarn Theatre, Foster City – “West Side Story“ – Aug. 30th – Sept. 16th “Noises Off!” – Oct. 11th – 28th

Pacifica Spindrift Players – “My Fair Lady” – Aug. 10th – Sept. 2nd “It Can’t Happen Here” – Oct. 19th – Nov. 4th

Palo Alto Players – “Tarzan” – Sept. 8th – 23rd

The Pear Theatre, Palo Alto – “Northanger Abbey” – Aug. 31st – Sept. 23rd “Hedda Gabler” – Oct. 12th – 28th Stanford Repertory Theatre, Palo Alto –

TheatreWorks Silicon Valley, Palo Alto/Mountain View – “Native Gardens” – Aug. 22nd – Sept. 16th “Fun Home” – Oct. 3rd – 28th

NORTH BAY

6th Street Playhouse, Santa Rosa – “Comedy of Errors” – Through Sept. 2nd “Guys and Dolls” – Sept. 14th – Oct. 7th

Bay Area Stage Productions, Vallejo – “I Ought To Be in Pictures” – Through June 10th Lucky Penny Productions, Napa – “Into the Woods” – Sept. 7th – 23rd “Blithe Spirit” – Oct. 19th – Nov. 4th

Marin Shakespeare Company –

Marin Theatre Company, Mill Valley – “Oslo” – Sept. 27th – Oct. 21st

Novato Theater Company – “A Chorus Line” – Sept. 7th – 30th “God of Carnage” – Oct. 26th – Nov. 11th

Ross Valley Players – “Twelfth Night” – Sept. 28th – Oct. 21st

Sonoma Arts Live – “Hello, Dolly!” – Oct. 5th – 21st

Spreckels Theatre Company

– “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time” – Sept. 7th – 30th“Addams Family Musical” – Oct. 12th – 28th

EAST BAY

Actor’s Ensemble of Berkeley – “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged” – Through Sept. 3rd

Altarena Playhouse, Alameda – “Clybourne Park” – Oct. 5th – Nov. 11th “One Man, Two Guvnors” – Through Sept. 9th

Anton’s Well Theater Company – “Dirty Butterfly” – Sept. 21st – Oct. 7th

Aurora Theatre Company, Berkeley – “Detroit, ’67” – Aug. 31st – Sept. 30th

Bay Area Children’s Theatre, Berkeley – “The Cat in the Hat – El Gato Ensombrerado” Sept. 15th – Nov. 4th

Berkeley Playhouse – “Dreamgirls” – Sept. 21st – Oct. 21st

Berkeley Repertory Theatre – “A Doll’s House, Part 2” – Sept. 6th – Oct. 21st “Fairview” – Oct. 4th – Nov. 4th

Center REPertory Theatre, Walnut Creek – “Mamma Mia” – Aug. 31st – Oct. 7th “Dancing Lessons” – Oct. 19th – Nov. 7th

Central Works, the New Play Theater, Berkeley – “Chekhov’s Ward 6” – Oct. 13th – Nov. 11th

Chanticleers Theatre, Castro Valley – “Don’t Dress For Dinner” – Oct. 19th – Nov. 11th

Contra Costa Civic Theatre – “Allegiance” – Sept. 21st – Oct. 21st

Douglas Morrisson Theatre, Hayward – “Once Upon a Mattress” – Sept. 13th – 30th

The Marsh, Berkeley – “Each and Every Thing” – Through Sept. 29th “One Life Stand” – Through Sept. 29th “Can You Dig It” – Through Sept. 9th “Latin Standards” – Oct. 5th – Nov. 17th

Masquers Playhouse, Point Richmond –

Piedmont Center Theatre, Piedmont –

Pittsburg Community Theatre – “Spamalot” – Sept. 28th – Oct. 7th

Ragged Wing Ensemble, Oakland –

Shotgun Players, Berkeley – “Women Laughing Alone With Salad” – Oct 12th – Nov. 11th “Kiss” – Through Sept. 23rd

Stage 1 Theatre, Newark –

Those Women Productions, Berkeley – “Woman on Fire” – Through Sept. 9th

Town Hall Theatre, Lafayette – “The Revolutionists” – Sept. 29th – Oct. 20th

Tri-Valley Rep, Livermore –

Ubuntu Theater Project – “Pool of Unknown Wonders” – Aug. 31st – Sept. 23rd

UC Berkeley TDPS –

Woodminster Amphitheater, Oakland – “In the Heights” – Aug. 31st – Sept. 9th

SOUTH BAY

Broadway San Jose – “On Your Feet” – Oct. 9th – 14th

Center Stage Performing Arts, Milpitas –

Children’s Musical Theater San Jose – City Lights Theatre Company, San Jose – “In the Heights” – Through Aug. 25th “God of Carnage” – Sept. 13th – Oct. 14th

Foothill Music Theatre, Los Altos Hills –

Lyric Theater, San Jose – “The Wizard of Oz” – Oct. 13th – 28th

Naatak Indian Theater – “Mahabharat” – Sept. 2nd – 23rd

Norcal Academy of Performing Arts –

Northside Theatre Company, San Jose –

Pintello Comedy Theater, Gilroy –

San Jose Stage Company – “The Lieutenant of Inishmore – Sept. 26th – Oct. 21st

San Jose Theaters

San Jose Youth Shakespeare –

Santa Clara Players – “Exit the Body” – Oct. 26th – Nov. 17th

Silicon Valley Shakespeare, San Jose – “Much Ado About Nothing” – Through Sept. 2nd

South Bay Musical Theatre, Saratoga – “Mame” – Sept. 22nd – Oct. 13th

Sunnyvale Community Players – “Grease” – Sept. 15th – Oct. 7th

Tabard Theatre Company – “Another Roll of the Dice” – Sept. 14th – Oct. 7th

Teatro Vision, San Jose – “Departera” – Oct. 11th – 21st

OPEN-ENDED RUNS/IMPROVISATION

Bay Area Theatre Sports (BATS), San Francisco

Comedysportz San Jose

Made Up Theatre, Fremont

Synergy Theater, Walnut Creek

Un-Scripted Theater Company, San Francisco

OPERA

Bay Area Opera Collaborative

Island City Opera, Alameda

Opera San Jose

#bayareaplays.com #san francisco #peninsula #north bay #east bay #south bay #OPEN-ENDED RUNS/IMPROVISATION #opera #california #northern california #theater #theater arts

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