For more years than I want to really admit I went to church every sunday, attended Catholic school and for a few years even spent some time at a religo' summer camp- where in the middle of a really competitive pre teen bocci ball game - a bell would ring and we would have to freeze, get the prayer hands on and say a little chant to the angels. Now a recovering Catholic I am haunted by guilt and after saying or doing something particularly ungodly I find myself begging forgiveness by mumbling to the air. " Sorry Jesus".
Starting in darkness and ending with a bright light YJL's Church spins you through the tenor, the vertigo inspiring ecstasy and the deep joy and sickness of the preacher and his followers.
Last fall I took in YJL's Songs of Dragons Flying to Heaven, which married sadistic / (slap)stick, a dissection of Korean American identity and the drone love perpetuated by over educated white kids. Anyone who can make me love Mariah Carey + mime in one scene deserves a close second look.
In Church I was unsettled by the glare from the house lights, left on purposefully I can only assume so one could not hide from themselves. A trio clad in calico frocks gives ripe testimony and a preacher names Jose spurt monologues that elicit memories of guitar mass compassion and slowly evolve into a fire and brimstone rant.
I was smitten by its simplicity, enamored by its raw honesty, tricked by its tricks, and revived by the choral surprises. In the end this lapsed devotee was saved by YJL- In her I have found a new religion.
Kristan Kennedy, PICA
Friday, January 11, 2008
Poetics: a ballet brut
The Nature Theater of Oklahoma is undeniably one of the most innovative dance companies in New York. Ok, so they aren't your average dance company. None of the members would ever be seen in Swan Lake or even at the Martha Graham Dance Center. Yet, somehow, The Nature Theater of Oklahoma's version of dance is more joyous and revealing that anything I've seen in recent years.
Referred to as an "awesome and awkward tour de force," the dancing in Poetics: a ballet brut is comprised of everyday movement we use to communicate with one another. It combines simple gestures, like pounding your fist into your hand, brushing back someone's hair, or even eating a slice of pizza to create fluid and meaningful dance numbers. Each dance seems to evoke not only specific emotions, but also represent simple moments of interaction that we all experience in our daily lives.
In Poetics, the members of The Nature Theater of Oklahoma, have created a new vocabulary, devoid of almost any actual sound. There are many moments in the show when the actors gesture frantically, desperately trying to convey their feelings to us. In the process, we see them love, lose, cry, and laugh. Poetics shows us the beauty and heartbreak of life in it's simplest form.
Aiding in the simplicity of the show, is the interesting and innovative use of the space. The audience sits on risers positioned towards the very back of the stage itself. This leaves the dancers room to use not only the rest of the stage, but also to run free out in the house. This leads to several surprising and hilarious moments, which may include the occasional performer falling right off the stage.
But what are these performers dancing to? They are dancing to perhaps the most unusual and unexpected combination of semi-modern tunes, which are an immediate source of giggling. The soundtrack includes pop gems like "DreamWeaver" by Gary Wright, an instrumental rendition of "All by Myself" by Eric Carmen, as well as Donna Summer's "Last Dance."
Aside from the surprising and exhuberant finale (which I will mention nothing of to prevent spoiling it!) my favorite moment in the show is Robert Johanson's solo, leading into the "The Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats. The perfectly syncopated movement combined with perhaps one of the most ridiculously great songs from the 1980's, is perfection. It summerizes the awkward grace of not only Poetics, but also our daily lives.
Poetics: a ballet brut, will be playing at the Under The Radar Festival from January 10th through January 20th. Get your tickets while you can (go to publictheater.org or 212.967.7555) because this show is not to be missed!
Katie Courtien
UTR Press Corps Volunteer
You can learn more about NTO at their webpage www.oktheater.org AND by visiting our myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/utrfestival. Check them out on our blog and by viewing my vlog interview w/ NTO founders Pavol Liska and Kelly Copper!
Referred to as an "awesome and awkward tour de force," the dancing in Poetics: a ballet brut is comprised of everyday movement we use to communicate with one another. It combines simple gestures, like pounding your fist into your hand, brushing back someone's hair, or even eating a slice of pizza to create fluid and meaningful dance numbers. Each dance seems to evoke not only specific emotions, but also represent simple moments of interaction that we all experience in our daily lives.
In Poetics, the members of The Nature Theater of Oklahoma, have created a new vocabulary, devoid of almost any actual sound. There are many moments in the show when the actors gesture frantically, desperately trying to convey their feelings to us. In the process, we see them love, lose, cry, and laugh. Poetics shows us the beauty and heartbreak of life in it's simplest form.
Aiding in the simplicity of the show, is the interesting and innovative use of the space. The audience sits on risers positioned towards the very back of the stage itself. This leaves the dancers room to use not only the rest of the stage, but also to run free out in the house. This leads to several surprising and hilarious moments, which may include the occasional performer falling right off the stage.
But what are these performers dancing to? They are dancing to perhaps the most unusual and unexpected combination of semi-modern tunes, which are an immediate source of giggling. The soundtrack includes pop gems like "DreamWeaver" by Gary Wright, an instrumental rendition of "All by Myself" by Eric Carmen, as well as Donna Summer's "Last Dance."
Aside from the surprising and exhuberant finale (which I will mention nothing of to prevent spoiling it!) my favorite moment in the show is Robert Johanson's solo, leading into the "The Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats. The perfectly syncopated movement combined with perhaps one of the most ridiculously great songs from the 1980's, is perfection. It summerizes the awkward grace of not only Poetics, but also our daily lives.
Poetics: a ballet brut, will be playing at the Under The Radar Festival from January 10th through January 20th. Get your tickets while you can (go to publictheater.org or 212.967.7555) because this show is not to be missed!
Katie Courtien
UTR Press Corps Volunteer
You can learn more about NTO at their webpage www.oktheater.org AND by visiting our myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/utrfestival. Check them out on our blog and by viewing my vlog interview w/ NTO founders Pavol Liska and Kelly Copper!
Stoop Stories
Stoop Stories
Dael Orlandersmith
Thursday, January 10, 2008
This short performance of compelling short persona pieces is clearly unfinished, a “work-in-progress” as stated in the UTR guide. I admit, I was skeptical about attending an in progress piece—but once I settled into the seat and took one look at the joyous, pain-ridden, happy, broken, and etched face of Ms. Orlandersmith, I was hooked. She spun tales of lost dreams, truncated ambition, long lost glory, drugs, racism and the internal pain of disability. With each new scene, her face morphed into the character, her lips wide one character, tightly closed the next. Her eyes open wide in wonder as she performed in a child’s voice, and in the next, as she rocked back and forth in a fighter’s stance, her eyes squinted against an unfulfilled past and a future beset with nothing but heartache. The best of the lot she saved for last, as she took on the persona of a Holocaust survivor transplanted to New York, a man named Herman. Herman reminisces about a time when he met Billy Holiday at a club he frequented named Connie’s. Orlandersmith’s impression is spot-on, distilling down this man’s socially unacceptable desires and troubled history into a beautiful grimace of nostalgia and lost love.
Scott McEachern
UTR Press Corps
PICA
scott@pica.org
Dael Orlandersmith
Thursday, January 10, 2008
This short performance of compelling short persona pieces is clearly unfinished, a “work-in-progress” as stated in the UTR guide. I admit, I was skeptical about attending an in progress piece—but once I settled into the seat and took one look at the joyous, pain-ridden, happy, broken, and etched face of Ms. Orlandersmith, I was hooked. She spun tales of lost dreams, truncated ambition, long lost glory, drugs, racism and the internal pain of disability. With each new scene, her face morphed into the character, her lips wide one character, tightly closed the next. Her eyes open wide in wonder as she performed in a child’s voice, and in the next, as she rocked back and forth in a fighter’s stance, her eyes squinted against an unfulfilled past and a future beset with nothing but heartache. The best of the lot she saved for last, as she took on the persona of a Holocaust survivor transplanted to New York, a man named Herman. Herman reminisces about a time when he met Billy Holiday at a club he frequented named Connie’s. Orlandersmith’s impression is spot-on, distilling down this man’s socially unacceptable desires and troubled history into a beautiful grimace of nostalgia and lost love.
Scott McEachern
UTR Press Corps
PICA
scott@pica.org
Thursday, January 10, 2008
I want to be a Superamas
Big, 3rd Episode (happy/end) by Superamas opened at The Kitchen last night.
It has me up late thinking about time, words, music, and how I look art in the world around me.
How often I repeat a scene in my head or how things play out. So many times I have or haven't said the right thing at the right time.
I knew some music I heard tonight but never quite this special. Visually, I loved what I was seeing and wanted to see it again and again. And some I did. Each of the performers amazed me in their own way.
From the modest opening song to the journey I went on-they had me wanting more. Even now I have this craving. The video footage and effects really got me excited but also loved the natural beauty of the woman in the locker room. And yes the women with their "Sex in the City" conversation. I am seeing this show again. I want to see their other works too. check out superamas.com and arrive to the show early ! I want to be a Superamas!
Posted by Wilson from Portland, Oregon.
It has me up late thinking about time, words, music, and how I look art in the world around me.
How often I repeat a scene in my head or how things play out. So many times I have or haven't said the right thing at the right time.
I knew some music I heard tonight but never quite this special. Visually, I loved what I was seeing and wanted to see it again and again. And some I did. Each of the performers amazed me in their own way.
From the modest opening song to the journey I went on-they had me wanting more. Even now I have this craving. The video footage and effects really got me excited but also loved the natural beauty of the woman in the locker room. And yes the women with their "Sex in the City" conversation. I am seeing this show again. I want to see their other works too. check out superamas.com and arrive to the show early ! I want to be a Superamas!
Posted by Wilson from Portland, Oregon.
[insert statement, like "going to" or "praise the lord at" here] Church
Church
by Young Jean Lee’s Theater Company
January 9, 2008
The performance begins in darkness and there is silence for a few minutes, as if you’re given time to calm down, take a deep breath, and live with your own thoughts for a few moments. And then a voice, a man’s, begins with a forceful polemic about the craziness of modern life. As he continues, he becomes increasingly strident, his voice quavering with emotion. He lights on all of the flaws and extremes of living: overeating, alcoholism, smoking, fornicating, gambling. Pig, he calls us. We laugh, uncomfortably, understanding that this is the theater, and contemporary theater at that, and this moment, this rant, is meant to parody Christian rhetoric and belief.
The lights come on and the gentleman who has been speaking is joined by three other women, fresh-faced and clean, dressed simply in cotton dresses and pumps. Hairdos are non-descript, lanky brown hair or a close blonde bob on another. The foursome walks into the crowd, greeting the audience, smiling, thanking us for coming. It’s a fairly common theatrical technique that is meant, I think, to break down the proscenium, the fourth wall and interfere with our suspension of disbelief. The group interacts with the audience and thus creates the illusion that they are just like us, that we are not in a play, but in a scene from life.
They meet back on the stage and stand in a line, and the man introduces himself as Rev. Jose, and there are two Reverend Katies. We know that the parody is progressing in good order, and that we are in for a performance of laughs and pointed observations about American Religion. The final Reverend is hobbled at the foot, moving around with a crutch at her side—a perfect detail in a minimalist set, I thought at first.
Later, at the UTR Opening Night party, I ran into the actor and she was still wielding the crutch. “Obviously, this wasn’t part of the play,” I observed, helpfully. And she explained that she had hurt it somehow, in the process of dancing, and she had ignored the pain and the discomfort until it became too much to bear and the doctor told her that she had broken her foot. This happened Monday, and the performance was Wednesday. The company had one day, essentially, to prepare for the new development.
I would comment to Young Jean Lee to keep the crutch—even in future, full-bodied stagings of the performance. The crutched Reverend added something very human and bleak to the piece, and the detail, in my mind, was directly connected to tent revivals and faith healing, and I half expected one of her companions to touch her by the forehead and yell “Devil begone!” And the juxtaposition of this incredibly fit woman who is hobbled by an unexplained injury worked very well.
The rest of the play unfolds with a series of single monologues delivered by each member of the crew—and at this point it’s clear that this is a parody of the classic Christian Church Scene—where the reverends testify, give advice, cajole and judge their audiences into God’s Path.
The interesting thing about Church is that the group does a spot-on impression of the Church Scene. Their earnestness does not seem like a put-on or faked—in short, their performance does not seem staged. Only when one of the group enters into moments of total absurdism, when Reverend Jose, for example, begins his parable about the tuna and the snake, do we understand for certain that this is meant to poke fun at the methods and the logic by which Christians talk to each other.
And then at the end, when the group comes on stage to dance in a sort of managed ecstasy, we understand that while the performers and the playwright have been making fun of Christianity, there is something so honest and real about their portrayals that it’s hard to understand what the point of the parody might be. In the guide for UTR, the entry for Church explains that “Playwright and director Young Jean Lee transforms her lifelong struggle with Christianity into an exuberant church service designed to test the expectations of the religious and non-religious alike.” The part of this statement that I’m interested in is the part about how Young Jean Lee has struggled with Christianity, which clearly indicates that she’s got something to say about how Christian Logic can seem so attractive to so many people while, at the same time, riddled with fallacies, syllogisms and downright wrong information.
So what is it that she’s trying to say? That Christianity, while undeniably a system of mismatched myths, parables and values, is also a really, really compelling force in our society? That Christianity is here to stay and those atheists, agnostics, non-believers, no matter how much reason, money or power they hold, it’s no stronghold against the steamroller of Christian belief? Yes, certainly the play says all of these things and more.
However, still something is unresolved in the play—and while I don’t necessarily need my plays and entertainment to be resolved, even a little bit, I guess I was looking for some kind of “a-ha” moment, a muted epiphany that would give us some indication how (and if) problems of Christian Logic had come to a satisfying détente in her mind.
Scott McEachern
PICA
Portland, OR
scott@pica.org
by Young Jean Lee’s Theater Company
January 9, 2008
The performance begins in darkness and there is silence for a few minutes, as if you’re given time to calm down, take a deep breath, and live with your own thoughts for a few moments. And then a voice, a man’s, begins with a forceful polemic about the craziness of modern life. As he continues, he becomes increasingly strident, his voice quavering with emotion. He lights on all of the flaws and extremes of living: overeating, alcoholism, smoking, fornicating, gambling. Pig, he calls us. We laugh, uncomfortably, understanding that this is the theater, and contemporary theater at that, and this moment, this rant, is meant to parody Christian rhetoric and belief.
The lights come on and the gentleman who has been speaking is joined by three other women, fresh-faced and clean, dressed simply in cotton dresses and pumps. Hairdos are non-descript, lanky brown hair or a close blonde bob on another. The foursome walks into the crowd, greeting the audience, smiling, thanking us for coming. It’s a fairly common theatrical technique that is meant, I think, to break down the proscenium, the fourth wall and interfere with our suspension of disbelief. The group interacts with the audience and thus creates the illusion that they are just like us, that we are not in a play, but in a scene from life.
They meet back on the stage and stand in a line, and the man introduces himself as Rev. Jose, and there are two Reverend Katies. We know that the parody is progressing in good order, and that we are in for a performance of laughs and pointed observations about American Religion. The final Reverend is hobbled at the foot, moving around with a crutch at her side—a perfect detail in a minimalist set, I thought at first.
Later, at the UTR Opening Night party, I ran into the actor and she was still wielding the crutch. “Obviously, this wasn’t part of the play,” I observed, helpfully. And she explained that she had hurt it somehow, in the process of dancing, and she had ignored the pain and the discomfort until it became too much to bear and the doctor told her that she had broken her foot. This happened Monday, and the performance was Wednesday. The company had one day, essentially, to prepare for the new development.
I would comment to Young Jean Lee to keep the crutch—even in future, full-bodied stagings of the performance. The crutched Reverend added something very human and bleak to the piece, and the detail, in my mind, was directly connected to tent revivals and faith healing, and I half expected one of her companions to touch her by the forehead and yell “Devil begone!” And the juxtaposition of this incredibly fit woman who is hobbled by an unexplained injury worked very well.
The rest of the play unfolds with a series of single monologues delivered by each member of the crew—and at this point it’s clear that this is a parody of the classic Christian Church Scene—where the reverends testify, give advice, cajole and judge their audiences into God’s Path.
The interesting thing about Church is that the group does a spot-on impression of the Church Scene. Their earnestness does not seem like a put-on or faked—in short, their performance does not seem staged. Only when one of the group enters into moments of total absurdism, when Reverend Jose, for example, begins his parable about the tuna and the snake, do we understand for certain that this is meant to poke fun at the methods and the logic by which Christians talk to each other.
And then at the end, when the group comes on stage to dance in a sort of managed ecstasy, we understand that while the performers and the playwright have been making fun of Christianity, there is something so honest and real about their portrayals that it’s hard to understand what the point of the parody might be. In the guide for UTR, the entry for Church explains that “Playwright and director Young Jean Lee transforms her lifelong struggle with Christianity into an exuberant church service designed to test the expectations of the religious and non-religious alike.” The part of this statement that I’m interested in is the part about how Young Jean Lee has struggled with Christianity, which clearly indicates that she’s got something to say about how Christian Logic can seem so attractive to so many people while, at the same time, riddled with fallacies, syllogisms and downright wrong information.
So what is it that she’s trying to say? That Christianity, while undeniably a system of mismatched myths, parables and values, is also a really, really compelling force in our society? That Christianity is here to stay and those atheists, agnostics, non-believers, no matter how much reason, money or power they hold, it’s no stronghold against the steamroller of Christian belief? Yes, certainly the play says all of these things and more.
However, still something is unresolved in the play—and while I don’t necessarily need my plays and entertainment to be resolved, even a little bit, I guess I was looking for some kind of “a-ha” moment, a muted epiphany that would give us some indication how (and if) problems of Christian Logic had come to a satisfying détente in her mind.
Scott McEachern
PICA
Portland, OR
scott@pica.org
Bang a Gong - Get it on!
Attending a Festival in a city you only dip your foot in once and a while is a feat - your jet lagged and subway weary- and although you know you might just see everyone in your field in the lobby of the Public Theater - that might not be a good thing at this moment. Still as the day goes on and the calls and emails and text messages pour in from your colleagues around the world- and every one of them says "see you tonight"- you feel a bit restored and head out. Everything seems to become part of the show and as you get closer to the Public. From about ten blocks away you can start identifying your people the clear signifiers are the UTR tote bags, the head to toe black clad ensembles and then their are the haircuts. Have I mentioned that it is 60 degrees today. As you head to the lobby- more and more and more and more and more people start filtering in and the noise rises from chatter to clang. Wait- that is UTR's Artistic Director, Mark Russell standing on the coffee bar with a gong, he is ringing in the first night Everyone has filed into their shows, and now we are back in the lobby - champagne is poured and you start seeing the faces from the catalog come alive, there is Mike Daisey who will soon tell us how theater has failed us, there is Pavol Liska and his Nature Theater of Oklahoma entourage, Reggie Watts, Young Jean Lee- then there are the art world mavericks - I spied Rose Lee Goldberg, Chuck Helm, David Henry , Olga Garay and many more. We are here - together to have our minds bent, to make connections, to fall in love with a moment on stage (or off).
Kristan Kennedy, Visual Art Program Director, PICA
Kristan Kennedy, Visual Art Program Director, PICA
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