#I would like to point out the brilliance of me adding a quote from Mary Shelley that applies to Matthew on his side

[caterpillarinacave]

Matthew and Marigold Fairchild

1886 - ???

1905 -???

“Litter sister, big brother. However old we grow.”

Post TLH Moodboards 6/?

[newyorktheater]

“Fairview,” winner of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize for Drama, began Off-Off Broadway.

“Small theaters” play a large role in making New York City the world’s cultural capital, according to  “All New York’s a Stage,” a report issued this week by the Mayor’s Office of Media and Entertainment that looks at the cultural and economic impact of Off-Broadway and Off-Off Broadway, a “sector” (in policy-speak) that is made up of “748 small venue theater organizations” that generate “$1.3 billion in total economic output” annually. They also generate much of the theater world’s cultural heat these days. One example: Some dozen Pulitzer Prize winning plays originating in NYC’s small theaters, including this year’s winner “Fairview” above (Soho Rep), 2016’s “Hamilton” (New York Public Theater), 2015’s “Between Riverside and Crazy” (Atlantic) and 2014’s “The Flick” (Playwrights Horizons.)   One arresting fact: The majority of staff of these theaters are volunteers.  Here are some charts from the report:

  Thanksgiving Week Broadway Schedule

including 15 shows adding performances today!

The Week in New York Theater Reviews

Ronete Levenson (Sue), Lindsay Rico (Paula), Helen Cespedes (Emma), Jennifer Lim (Cindy)

Fefu and Her Friends

Fefu picks up a double-barrel shotgun and shoots at her husband near the beginning of “Fefu and Her Friends,” billed as a modern classic and written by the beloved avant-garde playwright Maria Irene Fornés,  who died in October 2018 at the age of 88. “It’s a game we play,” Fefu explains matter-of-factly to her friends, putting the gun back against the drawing room chair. “I shoot and he falls. Whenever he hears the blast he falls.”

For the first time in 40 years, Off-Broadway theatergoers can actually hear that gunshot blast too, thanks to a Theater for a New Audience production, directed by Liliana Blain-Cruz, that is itself a blast….for much of the time. For the rest of the time, it’s…..well, to quote the director herself on her reaction when discovering the work of Maria Irene Fornés: “Oh my god. I don’t understand anything that’s going on, but I love it.”

The Half-Life of Marie Curie

Marie Curie won the Nobel Prize twice, but she was also a woman; so the Nobel committee asked her not to show up at the ceremony. We learn the specific reason why early on in this well-intentioned, workmanlike play by Lauren Gunderson about the friendship between two world-class women scientists who lived a century ago.

Samuel H. Levine as Adam, Kyle Soller as Eric, Kyle Harris as Jasper, Arturo Luís-Soria as Jasper2, Jordan Barbour as Tristan, and Darryl Gene Daughtry Jr. as Jason1

The Inheritance

“The Inheritance,” a long, ambitious play about three generations of gay men in New York, pays homage to two masterpieces, without being one itself. Yet the play by Matthew Lopez, making his Broadway debut, is both sweeping and intimate, sophisticated and raw, a weepy that is often funny. Several performances are transporting, including two actors making their Broadway debuts, and an actress who made hers 67 years ago. There are swoops into intellectual brilliance, such as when one of the characters elaborately compares America to a body, its democracy to a body’s immune system, and the current president to the HIV virus. There are dips into nudity and raunch. There is insight and debate and uplift. Does “The Inheritance” need to be nearly seven hours long and in two parts to achieve all that? The short answer is no. But there’s so much here that’s so wonderful that it’s worth it to those with the stamina.

A Christmas Carol

Who knew that “A Christmas Carol” could be so dangerous!

The assaults begin even before the first line of dialogue in the new, charming if overlong, and extraordinarily well-designed Broadway production of Charles Dickens’ 1843 classic, starring Campbell Scott as Ebenezer Scrooge and Andrea Martin and LaChanze as Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present. Cast members on the stage dressed as 19th century English blokes and birds throw clementines and cookies to (at?) the audience…vigorously.

“I’m suing,” said somebody sitting behind me, in a straight-faced impersonation of Scrooge, after he was hit by one of the packages of chocolate chips.  “Are you an attorney?”

Evita

It’s surely pointless, four decades and two billion dollars after its debut, to rant about Evita, and silly to blame Andrew Lloyd Webber’s theatrical canonization of the amoral historical figure Eva Perón as paving the way for the elevation of another media personality remade into a dictator-loving populist. Still, this core problem I have with the musical stops me from fully embracing its revival at New York City Center, even as I acknowledge that the singing in this production is gorgeous, the orchestra lush, the choreography fun, and the story reinterpreted in some bold and intriguing if not always effective ways.

Two adaptations of novels by Édouard Louis:

James Russell Morley and Oseloka Obi on the video

The End of Eddy

Parts resemble a book report for school, but won’t be mistaken for a story hour because of the inventive stagecraft and the rawness of the stories — relentless bullying, deadened people in a dying factory town, his sad and funny efforts to ‘be a man,’ his sexual experimenting.

History of Violence

An examination of trauma; that in any case is the most consistently insightful aspect of the adaptation…. committed performances by the four-member cast…but the production ultimately felt more like an exercise in stagecraft rather than a pointed exploration of history or violence.

  The Week in New York Theater News

Grammy Award nominees for best musical theater albums: Ain’t Too Proud, Hadestown,  Moulin Rouge, plus the incidental music from the play Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. The 62nd annual Grammy Awards will be held on January 20, 2020.

Ephraim Sykes in Newsies

Motown’s Ephraim Sykes as member of The Temptations, Berry Gordy Jr.’s brother, member of the Jackson 5

Ephraim Skyes as Seaweed J. Stubbs —

Ephraim Sykes as David Ruffin

Ephraim Sykes will star as Michael Jackson in “MJ,” the musical slated to open on Broadway beginning the summer 2020. A thrilling performer, he’s had an increasingly high-profile career: Memphis,Newsies,Motown,Hamilton, Hairspray Live, and Tony-nominated for his role as avid Ruffin in Ain’t Too Proud: The Life and Times of the Temptations.

He is now both performing in Ain’t Too Proud and rehearsing for MJ. How can he do this? “I always say just a bunch of prayers, and drink as much coconut water as I can find,” he told Essence.

Lynn Nottage, the Pulitzer Prize winning playwright of “Ruined” and “Sweat,” is the book writer for MJ the Musical. In a mutual interview in Vogue magazine between Nottage and Slave Play playwright Jeremy O. Harris, he brings up MJ:

Can I ask you a question about Michael Jackson? How do you contend with the weight of that history?

We all, on some level, recognize the complexity of Michael Jackson. For many years, he has occupied a very specific space.

Going into this moment, when there’s such a spotlight on him, and such decided opinion on it now around what we should do with that history…

Cancel culture is the dominant culture in this moment. But my guiding principle is that you have to sustain the complexity. I really feel as an artist that writing this piece is me trying to process my complicated feelings about someone who I idolized from the time I was five years old. To reconcile that with that person who, in the media, was quite complicated. I can’t simply cancel that person. I have to, as an artist, lean into that complication—that is what I’m investigating by doing this. And I think that the easy thing would be to say no and run away. But for me the more interesting thing is to lean into it and try to figure out personally how I feel.

  Separately, John Logan (Moulin Rouge the Musical, Red, The Aviator) has been hired to writea movie script about Michael Jackson.

Patrick Stewart’s one-man version of “A Christmas Carol” will be presented for two nights only, Dec 11 & 13 at Theater 511 to benefit City Harvest and Ars Nova

“Soft Power” will release a cast recording in Spring 2020.

They grew up at Boston Children’s Theater. Now They Look Back with Alarm

“a group of 17 former students who sent a letter to the theater’s board late last month, detailing a range of negative experiences with [Burgess Clark, the director of Boston’s Children’s Theater]; three alleged that Clark had kissed or touched them inappropriately. Beverly police are investigating; no charges have been filed. A group of older alums sent a second letter describing their own disturbing encounters. Burgess has resigned.”

  Rest in Peace

  Michael J. Pollard in Bye, Bye Birdie

Michael J. Pollard in “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis”

Michael J. Pollard in “Bonnie and Clyde”

Michael J. Pollard, 80, best known for TV roles (“The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis”) and his Oscar-nominated part in the movie “Bonnie and Clyde”, was also a 5-time veteran of Broadway, such as the original Hugo Peabody in “Bye, Bye Birdie.”

    Small Theater is BIG in NYC. Ephraim Sykes is Michael Jackson, Lynn Nottage answers why she’s taking on MJ. #Stageworthy News of the Week "Small theaters" play a large role in making New York City the world's cultural capital, according to  

[hankeverythingwillbefine]

Thrashed, Lost, and Found

Day 7 hurt as much as every day has. It still started out with a forceful morning workout, my cousin has asked me a couple of times if I’d go with her to her gym in the afternoon but working out is something I have to do alone. I know she can do her routine and I can do mine but even the commute needs to be a separate thing. I was dragged to church, even though it’s Catholic I went and listened to what the priest had to say. I kept getting lost in thought and spent time admiring the architectural brilliance of the church. I wanted to go out by myself, I thought it’s time to shave the beard and needed razors (maybe it was just the only excuse I had). I took the bus and we were robbed, even though I was scared I was still aware of how dangerous the state has become thanks to increasing foreign migration. I don’t mean to sound xenophobic and I’m not even blaming the South American migrants, I’m blaming the people that come from other states to those that had stable security in their endless turf wars or those from the capital that have become so wanted by their local enforcement agencies to flee and do what they’re doing here. Anyhow, this short guy in his mid 20′s comes into the bus and asks to hold on a moment before paying. The bus starts moving at this point because the buses are in a hurry. It’s not too packed which is great for my anxiety and I’m looking out the window because I’m a melancholic fuck that needs serotonin and sunlight helps with that. I see some people in front of me shuffle suddenly and it made me startle and grasp the situation... hey we’re getting robbed. I didn’t notice the guy in the back with the backpack collecting money, phones and jewelry until it was my turn. As confident I am of my self-defense abilities, I’m no match for a guy with a gun. My anxiety manifested in a form of angry annoyance instead of fear. I gave them my broken iphone (which thankfully I only took the spare one that I use as an ipod but also has whatsapp installed and all of my contacts... it’s too long a story to explain now), my wallet with an estimated equivalent of $10 dollars and my wired headphones. I could tell that backpack guy was somewhat disappointed in everything they gathered but what do you expect on a Sunday afternoon in a half empty bus that’s going AWAY from the capital. I applaud your efforts, you sad elementary school dropout but thieving doesn’t give participation trophies or a pat on the back (unless you’re a prison bitch, then I guess it’s more than pats on the back). They quickly pointed the gun at the driver and made him pull over by an empty lot, my mind went to “we’re getting executed” which made me angrier. The one that gets to kill me is ME, that much has always been decided and I don’t even mean that in a suicidal way. If I die because of a mistake I made or an action I knowingly took that sent me to my demise, I’d be okay with that. My point is, they ran away and I wanted to go after them but getting shot is not in my to do list. The bus driver had radioed someone to call the police, they came in what felt like 10 minutes-ish and a forever for their police reports. I told them everything I saw, I gave them all my necessary information and details of the items that were stolen. I didn’t see much point in cooperating since the police are famous for being useless in this country and the four that arrived reeked of incompetence and Sunday laziness. I walked back home after that, it was a 30 minute walk... always has been. I realized I took 2 and a half hours between all of that when I got home. I told my mother I went for a walk and got distracted, went to my room and that’s when everything started sinking in. I grew up in a dangerous neighborhood no matter where I lived, having a gun pointed at was something that’s never going to stop being terrifying but the impact lessens over time. After some time of empty staring, I got the phone my father sent a year ago and activated that one, it has less memory and all I really need is music but it’s the thought that counts. I saw a couple of messages from you asking if I’m there and looks like you wanted to talk. I told you I got robbed, you didn’t believe me but this isn’t one of those things to lie about. There’s nothing impressive about getting robbed at gunpoint. My anxiety didn’t go off the rails despite the lack of Xanax in my system, it was a strange feeling and did not know how to rationalize it. I tried to pass it off as being okay, talking to you makes everything easier. You told me you’re redoing the house and talking about your self-worth. Telling me to tell my therapist how strong you are and how beautiful you are and how you’ve shouldered everything for the past year. How fucking dare you, of course I have but I’ve also talked about how controlling you’ve been and the thing I don’t want to do is go from patient to psychologist trying to compare results based on notes and observations about you. Therapy is where I make me about me, it’s step one on a healthy dose of selfishness. So we talked about how you’re Marie Kondoing and suggested I do the same, I told you that I’m not in a head space where assessing joy is a good idea. We talked about how we both need the man I used to be, how tired you are and the things you deserve. I mentioned that my stepdad finally got himself together and I was very surprised, these past 10 years haven’t been very kind to us and he got lazy and complacent and irresponsible. After having been dumped by my mom was when he went back to being hardworking and providing for her and my brother. He’s been incredibly supportive of whatever this thing I’m going through is. We spoke in a way that can only be described like we needed to cheer each other on, and then another “I don’t believe you got robbed” stab. As much as I would like your support yet not seeking it because I’m respecting your space, I really don’t need your doubt. I told you I was looking forward to our monthly in-person meet, which you forgot and it hurt. That was probably the most crushing moment of our whole conversation but powered through it. Sometimes I think I should just divorce you because you’re too much of a coward to ask for it because that is what you really want and I want to work on this but won’t get the chance to get there. We had a nice conversation and cut it short, sleep was calling to me. I woke up late at night and saw that you texted again, I don’t know if you were battling with loneliness again and wanted to talk to me. A part of me wants to tell you to fuck off and seek solace in the Facebook friends you arduously ignored me for but I think you’re doing that and it’s not working as well as you’d hoped. I think we’re both fighting that codependency we have for each other, leading to struggles with our own loneliness. I can’t really speak for you and can only assume. I just told you I went for my late night drink of water. We texted a little on Day 8, sent you a funny ad I got on a website while working. I’m still worried that you’re not eating well and haven’t found someone to pay to cook for you or deliver a healthy meal to you. I spent all of Day 8 hating myself out loud because I had the house to myself and trying not to text you. I also spent it playing GTA 5 and watching how Michael lost his family and is slowly getting them back in their own organically dysfunctional way while having Chicago’s “if you leave me now” playing on the radio station of the car he got in. Rockstar, you’re not fair to me right now. After so many years and changing availability, I still haven’t finished the game but it’s hitting so many sore spots for me right now. Great job, me, you’ve replaced your dependency from Xanax to video games and enjoy neither. I’ve helped my stepdad clean his car during the weekend, Hank sees me near the car and he behaves like we’re going back home. He scratches my leg, getting permission to get in but doesn’t see that it’s just to clean it and not to make a 2 hour trip back to a place we thought everyone was happy in. You sent me a philosophical quote about healing, I looked it up and thanked you for it. I went on to spend my night playing mindlessly, reading on and off about endogenous depression because I stumbled upon a paper I was reading about it in my closet here. Grad school B paper, no easy feat. I spent my night torturing myself internally. Weening off Xanax to help me sleep has not been kind, I’m down to a quarter a day again.

Day 9. I’m proud of myself for not reactivating my Facebook to stalk you since Friday-ish or Thursday. I needed one of the links I had saved and checked your posts since I was already there. Still, I need to stop. I’m getting everything out in a public way while maintaining myself anonymous and you’re getting everything out in a more “everybody, this marriage has been so shitty despite having my husband change jobs and work outside the house in order to pay for everything”. Yes you did the housewife thing and you did it great, I just needed you great and not a clean house or a highly elaborate meal but that’s what I came home to and a wife that had just enough energy to kinda eat. Your mother and my father did come to our rescue one too many times before we got married and while I started my new job. When you said you were told about Stratus, I encouraged you and said I wanted you happy but whatever floats your boat. Day 9 is just starting with sarcastic clients and a very annoyed me. If parting is such sweet sorrow, I don’t have many assets but I’m still meeting an attorney this Friday to set up a will. Just in case.