I never thought I would say this, but I have genuinely liked a slightly abridged, American production of Shakespeare. This past weekend I headed into Greenwich Village to see Fiasco Theater and Theater for a New Audience's production of Cymbeline and it was really good.
Of course, going into Greenwich Village, one cannot help but feel like a hipster. The streets are lined with establishments of nonconformity. And it turns out that hipsters travel in packs. This I did not know. But lo and behold, I saw packs of 20-somethings cultivating their looks of disdain at the likes of you and I and their carefully chosen ensembles, designed to look like they were not quite so carefully chosen. But I really can't mock. I'm something of a hipster myself. In any event, I had a delicious (probably fair trade and organic) lunch at a tiny little cafe and headed off to the Barrow Street Theater.
This Cymbeline will probably be the only Cymbeline I ever see. It is very rarely produced and probably, rightly so. It's called a problem play with good reason. Every trope that Shakespeare ever used or created is in this show. And that's not a criticism; Shakespeare was a great writer and knew how to use them properly. However the plot of Cymbeline is so complicated that it is even a bit of a headache for the most dedicated of Shakespeare fans. Which is why I'm kind of glad they abridged this. Which is not to say it was any shorter than your average Shakespeare fare, the Fiasco Theater company simply, judiciously took out some of the less relevant side plots. This rendered the play far more enjoyable and much easier to understand. Nor did they try to set it too complicatedly. The set consisted of a sheet, two boxes, and a trunk, and it was perfectly done. This minimalist staging framed the show without overwhelming it or rendering it incomprehensible as many productions seem to do. They also set music to the show, which is something I greatly believe in. I'm not calling for musical versions of every Shakespeare drama - that would be ridiculous, excessive, and silly - but they were originally performed with music incorporated into the transitions and when modern companies do it right I think it adds a lot to the performance. It really was a wonderfully comprehensible production of an incredibly complicated play and I really encourage y'all to get tickets.
If I haven't sold you, let Ben Brantley of The New York Times help. There are two reviews there; one is from the original production from earlier this year and the other is for the one that's currently on. They're the same production, just in different locations
Friday, 21 October 2011
Thursday, 6 October 2011
By Providence, I Find Myself in Providence
Continuing my saga of college visits, this weekend I found myself on the campus of Brown University. Beyond that, I find myself lacking for words. The thing is, and it pains me to say this, I didn't really like it. Some of that may have something to do with the fact that I had the weirdest campus tour ever (more on that later), but I generally didn't get good vibes from the campus. And it feels awful to say that because I really wanted to like the campus. Brown has a really good Religious Studies program, and that is something that I am definitely interested in studying (my plan is a double major in RS and IR, and then go into international law if that makes any sense) so I was really hoping to like it. In any event, the campus itself was a little odd. The students seemed all too focused; people didn't say "Hi!" to each other the way I've seen on other campuses. It really gave the campus a cold, forbidding feel. The architecture itself was odd too. Most campus have one or two requisite modern monstrosities, but, generally speaking, they have a kind of look to which even new buildings conform in the general sense. This is not so at Brown. I wish I had pictures because all this would make so much more sense with them, but Brown's campus does not have a contiguous look and it lends a disconcerting sense of being lost to waking through the campus. It's hard to tell where the campus begins and ends because it looks like a random collection of buildings. I suppose it fits in with Providence the city, but it doesn't feel unified.
The campus tour matched this disconcerting sense of being lost too. Our tour guide almost didn't seem to go to Brown. Most tour guides will intersperse the fact based portion of their tour with personal anecdotes to make the tour seem interesting and to lend a sense of what it's actually like to attend their university. Our guide did none of that. Sure he threw in some interesting stories about the history of Brown, but I didn't here him tell one story about his personal experience attending his university. He seemed apathetic and like he too was visiting the campus. Additionally, he managed to go through the entire tour without mentioning athletics or student social life more than to acknowledge their mere existence. Now I am by no means an athlete (in spring and fall I dance and in winter I am the captain of the Brunswick Girls Fencing team of which I am the only member), but I still like hearing about the existence of that kind of stuff. I'm not going to join a team, but I plan on attending games to support my school. And of course, there must have been other people on that tour who would be interested in playing sports. Likewise, based on that tour, I have no idea what the social life of the average student is like. I'm not talking about parties (although that would be good to know about), just basic social interactions. I know I need a college where there is an active social scene on campus, i.e. the student body doesn't disperse into the city to entertain itself, otherwise I won't make friends. And I'd like to make friends. All of this is really tied into the fact that I don't think our tour guide used a single "I statement" in the entire tour, but I think the thing about the athletics and the social scene is especially weird.
All in all, I can't recommend Brown for myself. Even setting aside the weird tour, it was objectively a little strange and just not for me. But I have heard wonderful things about Brown from other people, so you really should go check it out for yourself.
The campus tour matched this disconcerting sense of being lost too. Our tour guide almost didn't seem to go to Brown. Most tour guides will intersperse the fact based portion of their tour with personal anecdotes to make the tour seem interesting and to lend a sense of what it's actually like to attend their university. Our guide did none of that. Sure he threw in some interesting stories about the history of Brown, but I didn't here him tell one story about his personal experience attending his university. He seemed apathetic and like he too was visiting the campus. Additionally, he managed to go through the entire tour without mentioning athletics or student social life more than to acknowledge their mere existence. Now I am by no means an athlete (in spring and fall I dance and in winter I am the captain of the Brunswick Girls Fencing team of which I am the only member), but I still like hearing about the existence of that kind of stuff. I'm not going to join a team, but I plan on attending games to support my school. And of course, there must have been other people on that tour who would be interested in playing sports. Likewise, based on that tour, I have no idea what the social life of the average student is like. I'm not talking about parties (although that would be good to know about), just basic social interactions. I know I need a college where there is an active social scene on campus, i.e. the student body doesn't disperse into the city to entertain itself, otherwise I won't make friends. And I'd like to make friends. All of this is really tied into the fact that I don't think our tour guide used a single "I statement" in the entire tour, but I think the thing about the athletics and the social scene is especially weird.
All in all, I can't recommend Brown for myself. Even setting aside the weird tour, it was objectively a little strange and just not for me. But I have heard wonderful things about Brown from other people, so you really should go check it out for yourself.
Friday, 30 September 2011
Welcome to the Philosophy Club!
Wednesday the 28th saw the first proper meeting of the Brunswick/GA Philosophy club and it was certainly interesting.
We started out with discussing whether the mind is separate from the body, which is an interesting idea from the perspective that it, unlike many philosophical questions, seems to have an easy answer. Yes; the brain is connected to the rest of the body. Our biological functions wouldn't work otherwise. But that's the brain. What about the mind? That's the interesting question. Of course you have to pose the question: what is the mind? For our purposes, we defined the mind to be the sum of our perceptions and higher cognitive though. Our emotions and what we see. Descartes would posit that they are separate. This speaks to the ideal that we have a soul which is not a physical part of our "biological" body. He distinguished the soul as the seat of self awareness and consciousness and the brain as the seat of intelligence. The Mechanist point of view posits that the mind and the body are one, contiguous thing with consciousness and intelligence existing together in the brain. For the Mechanist position, one member of the club brought up a scientific experiment by which scientists connected a subject's brain to a neuroimaging device which allows them to see a rough outline of anything the subject looks at constantly in another room. This experiment speaks to the idea that the brain and the mind are one; there must be electrical impulse to render for the image to be present. This image of perception is not a concrete part of a person's intelligence, which indicates that perception, or the mind, coexists with the brain. If you can create images of the "soul" from measuring the impulses of the brain, they must be in someway connected.
As our hour of discussion went on, our talk of perception and understanding led one of our number to bring up the idea of theodicy. One of the more common metaphors for the theodicy idea is that of the stool. I found this image which explains the idea pretty well:
We started out with discussing whether the mind is separate from the body, which is an interesting idea from the perspective that it, unlike many philosophical questions, seems to have an easy answer. Yes; the brain is connected to the rest of the body. Our biological functions wouldn't work otherwise. But that's the brain. What about the mind? That's the interesting question. Of course you have to pose the question: what is the mind? For our purposes, we defined the mind to be the sum of our perceptions and higher cognitive though. Our emotions and what we see. Descartes would posit that they are separate. This speaks to the ideal that we have a soul which is not a physical part of our "biological" body. He distinguished the soul as the seat of self awareness and consciousness and the brain as the seat of intelligence. The Mechanist point of view posits that the mind and the body are one, contiguous thing with consciousness and intelligence existing together in the brain. For the Mechanist position, one member of the club brought up a scientific experiment by which scientists connected a subject's brain to a neuroimaging device which allows them to see a rough outline of anything the subject looks at constantly in another room. This experiment speaks to the idea that the brain and the mind are one; there must be electrical impulse to render for the image to be present. This image of perception is not a concrete part of a person's intelligence, which indicates that perception, or the mind, coexists with the brain. If you can create images of the "soul" from measuring the impulses of the brain, they must be in someway connected.
As our hour of discussion went on, our talk of perception and understanding led one of our number to bring up the idea of theodicy. One of the more common metaphors for the theodicy idea is that of the stool. I found this image which explains the idea pretty well:
Photo Credit: http://unreasonablefaith.com/2011/07/02/theodicy-and-the-three-legged-stool/
According to this idea, humanity is presented with three options regarding the nature of any conceivable god:
- Break the benevolence leg: God is kind of a dick
- Break the omnipotence leg: God can't control everything simply because He does not have the power to
- Break the omniscience leg: God has other things on his mind
Trying to Learn a British Accent...
...is way harder than I thought. Or more boring. I can't decide which. Who knew that it was so tiring for your lip muscles? David Allen Stern Ph.D. is teaching me and I have to say it's really jarring when he switches between an English and an American accent. I honestly can't tell if he's American or British, he's that good at both. Although I'm pretty sure he's British; but that assessment is based entirely on the fact that his American Accent sounds a little bit too generic and the fact that he started in a British accent. So I might be a little bit biased on this one.
Anyway rehearsals are getting off to a great start. I think we have the groping down (almost all of the stage directions tell us to "grope" our way across the stage) and our pacing is slowly working it's way to awesome. According to the schedule, we need to be off book by then end of next week so that should help a lot. The show is way raunchier than I thought it was from the sides. As our director says "There's a lot of smooching". Demonstrative of the craziness of this play: I play a middle-aged spinster and my chest gets grabbed at one point. As I say, it's pretty crazy. I seriously question what scene our director will see fit to preform for Preview, since he usually chooses one of the more suggestive scenes in order to attract the teenage boy demographic.
The set hasn't been begun quite yet (although apparently we'll be able to play around on it in the black box a week from monday) but it looks pretty interesting. It's supposed to be an apartment with the bedroom on the higher level, an offstage studio/gallery, and a sitting room where most of the action takes place. It'll be mostly my Stage Design class that builds most of this thing, so I'm really interested to find out how we'll be executing this crazy dream of our director.
All in all, the play is shaping up to be really interesting. I will definitely keep y'all posted as the process develops!
Anyway rehearsals are getting off to a great start. I think we have the groping down (almost all of the stage directions tell us to "grope" our way across the stage) and our pacing is slowly working it's way to awesome. According to the schedule, we need to be off book by then end of next week so that should help a lot. The show is way raunchier than I thought it was from the sides. As our director says "There's a lot of smooching". Demonstrative of the craziness of this play: I play a middle-aged spinster and my chest gets grabbed at one point. As I say, it's pretty crazy. I seriously question what scene our director will see fit to preform for Preview, since he usually chooses one of the more suggestive scenes in order to attract the teenage boy demographic.
The set hasn't been begun quite yet (although apparently we'll be able to play around on it in the black box a week from monday) but it looks pretty interesting. It's supposed to be an apartment with the bedroom on the higher level, an offstage studio/gallery, and a sitting room where most of the action takes place. It'll be mostly my Stage Design class that builds most of this thing, so I'm really interested to find out how we'll be executing this crazy dream of our director.
All in all, the play is shaping up to be really interesting. I will definitely keep y'all posted as the process develops!
Saturday, 17 September 2011
Art Makes You Feel Smart
I thought "The Summer Look" was a dumb idea. Boy was I wrong. This summer my school sent out color photocopies of Giovanni Arnolfini and his Wife and Portrait of Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier and his Wife for us to look at and ponder over the months we were not in school. I thought this would be stupid, but the assembly in which we went over the significance of the paintings made me feel really cool.
This is Arnolfini and his wife painted by Jan van Eyek, cool because they were painted in the early renaissance when it was still basically only the church that commissioned artwork. Yeah, they had themselves painted before it was cool; the rest of you are just sheeple following the trend. In any event there are some really cool little insets that you can see if you have a really high resolution version of the painting (or are looking at the original in The National Gallery), so for now you'll have to trust me on their existence. For example the mirror in the back. Not only is it a symbol of wealth but it also shows a perfect reflection of the characters we can see as well as the reflection of the painter and another man which really brings the viewer into the painting. Just above that is the signature of the artist and some somewhat undetermined Latin. It either says "Jan van Eyek was this man/one" or "Jan van Eyek was here" and it's really interesting to discuss the implications of both. For a while art historians thought the work was a kind of self portrait, but now the popular opinion is swinging more toward the idea that the painter signed his work in the manner of bathroom wall graffiti.
But of course I would be remiss if I were to exclude the fun with symbolism portion of art analysis. Let's start from the top. If you look closely at the chandelier you can see one lit candle. It's clear that from a lighting perspective this room does not need any help; light floods through the window on the left. If you look at the chandelier itself, it is a symbol of their wealth. But there's more. Some art historians have interpreted the single lit candle as signifying the presence of God (when I had to interpret it on the spot I suggested that it represented the Advent, which in retrospect is a bit of a stretch) meaning that God has approved of and blessed this event (what that event actually is I'll get to later). The placement of the figures is also telling. The woman, on the right, is closer to the bed and a broom, associating her with domestic duties. The man, on the left, is closer to the window and his patten clogs (those crazy shoes in the bottom left would have gone on over his indoor shoes called poulaines whose tips were often so long they had to be held up by strings) indicating that he is a man of the world and has been outside. Finally the little dog: adorable and a symbol of loyalty! It's placement between the two figures indicates that there is loyalty between the man and wife.
So what's going on in this painting? For a while this was referred to as the "Arnolfini Wedding", indicating the idea that these two were in the process of getting married. Now popular opinion is swinging away from that idea. After all, why would they be getting married in a bedroom? The most current idea is that this painting portrays Arnolfini granting his wife power of attorney. Exciting, I know.
The second painting is a little closer to home (it's located in the Met) and is entitled Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier and His Wife. As the title indicates, the painting depicts Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier (1743–1794) and His Wife (Marie-Anne-Pierrette Paulze, 1758–1836). Lavoisier is known as the founder of modern chemistry, not only is this a gorgeous painting but seriously significant to the history of science. He is depicted here looking scientific in a room that is clearly not a lab. It has been hypothesised that he is depicted penning one of his many scientific treatises, which is supported by the presence of his wife and his wife's folio on the right (she illustrated many of his publications). This portrait, like Arnolfini up there, is a rarity for its time. It was still uncommon for private citizens in France to commission full length portraits like this one; it was usually only royalty who commissioned such works. Unfortunately, Lavoisier met an untimely demise at the guillotine during the French Revolution because he was a tax collector as well as a scientist and therefore a royalist. This fact makes the painting all the more interesting to me. Because, you see, David, the painter is very well known for this work:
His depiction of the Tennis Court Oath which created the French National Assembly after the members of the French Parliament of the Third Estate were locked out of the main Parliamentary room. David was named a deputy of the National Convention in 1792. So the same artist that painted the turning point in the French Revolution also painted one of the more famous royalists of the period.
Doesn't art make you feel smart!
This is Arnolfini and his wife painted by Jan van Eyek, cool because they were painted in the early renaissance when it was still basically only the church that commissioned artwork. Yeah, they had themselves painted before it was cool; the rest of you are just sheeple following the trend. In any event there are some really cool little insets that you can see if you have a really high resolution version of the painting (or are looking at the original in The National Gallery), so for now you'll have to trust me on their existence. For example the mirror in the back. Not only is it a symbol of wealth but it also shows a perfect reflection of the characters we can see as well as the reflection of the painter and another man which really brings the viewer into the painting. Just above that is the signature of the artist and some somewhat undetermined Latin. It either says "Jan van Eyek was this man/one" or "Jan van Eyek was here" and it's really interesting to discuss the implications of both. For a while art historians thought the work was a kind of self portrait, but now the popular opinion is swinging more toward the idea that the painter signed his work in the manner of bathroom wall graffiti.
But of course I would be remiss if I were to exclude the fun with symbolism portion of art analysis. Let's start from the top. If you look closely at the chandelier you can see one lit candle. It's clear that from a lighting perspective this room does not need any help; light floods through the window on the left. If you look at the chandelier itself, it is a symbol of their wealth. But there's more. Some art historians have interpreted the single lit candle as signifying the presence of God (when I had to interpret it on the spot I suggested that it represented the Advent, which in retrospect is a bit of a stretch) meaning that God has approved of and blessed this event (what that event actually is I'll get to later). The placement of the figures is also telling. The woman, on the right, is closer to the bed and a broom, associating her with domestic duties. The man, on the left, is closer to the window and his patten clogs (those crazy shoes in the bottom left would have gone on over his indoor shoes called poulaines whose tips were often so long they had to be held up by strings) indicating that he is a man of the world and has been outside. Finally the little dog: adorable and a symbol of loyalty! It's placement between the two figures indicates that there is loyalty between the man and wife.
So what's going on in this painting? For a while this was referred to as the "Arnolfini Wedding", indicating the idea that these two were in the process of getting married. Now popular opinion is swinging away from that idea. After all, why would they be getting married in a bedroom? The most current idea is that this painting portrays Arnolfini granting his wife power of attorney. Exciting, I know.
The second painting is a little closer to home (it's located in the Met) and is entitled Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier and His Wife. As the title indicates, the painting depicts Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier (1743–1794) and His Wife (Marie-Anne-Pierrette Paulze, 1758–1836). Lavoisier is known as the founder of modern chemistry, not only is this a gorgeous painting but seriously significant to the history of science. He is depicted here looking scientific in a room that is clearly not a lab. It has been hypothesised that he is depicted penning one of his many scientific treatises, which is supported by the presence of his wife and his wife's folio on the right (she illustrated many of his publications). This portrait, like Arnolfini up there, is a rarity for its time. It was still uncommon for private citizens in France to commission full length portraits like this one; it was usually only royalty who commissioned such works. Unfortunately, Lavoisier met an untimely demise at the guillotine during the French Revolution because he was a tax collector as well as a scientist and therefore a royalist. This fact makes the painting all the more interesting to me. Because, you see, David, the painter is very well known for this work:
His depiction of the Tennis Court Oath which created the French National Assembly after the members of the French Parliament of the Third Estate were locked out of the main Parliamentary room. David was named a deputy of the National Convention in 1792. So the same artist that painted the turning point in the French Revolution also painted one of the more famous royalists of the period.
Doesn't art make you feel smart!
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Auditioning
This fall the Brunswick play is called "The Black Comedy" and I'm trying out. It's been a while since I've done a school play, so this is a little weird, but I'm pretty excited about the whole thing. I'm trying to keep things low key because I know I'll be involved in some capacity because of Stage Tech, but it would be really cool to get back on stage (I'm not going to jinx myself by expressing too much hope). I have gotten a call back to read for the character of Miss Furnival, so I'm pretty excited about that. I will most certainly keep you all updated on the cast and the show up until opening night.
The show looks really funny. It's about British people and a black out with a reversed lighting scheme and.... just read the Wikipedia Article. That's where the director got the character descriptions, so it's good enough for me. I'll be sure to keep y'all apprised of the theatrical goings on in my life (and there will be many throughout the year) as the year picks up.
All in all it's been a pretty boring week for me. I'll update as things get interesting as the year progresses, but right now there's not much going on.
I'll see you all around the Interweb!
The show looks really funny. It's about British people and a black out with a reversed lighting scheme and.... just read the Wikipedia Article. That's where the director got the character descriptions, so it's good enough for me. I'll be sure to keep y'all apprised of the theatrical goings on in my life (and there will be many throughout the year) as the year picks up.
All in all it's been a pretty boring week for me. I'll update as things get interesting as the year progresses, but right now there's not much going on.
I'll see you all around the Interweb!
Monday, 12 September 2011
Man and Boy
This Saturday my parents and I seized upon the opportunity to see Frank Langella in Man and Boy on Broadway. I know I'm blogging late, get used to it.
This play looks at the complex relationship between a corrupt financier and his estranged son who still worships him even though he won't admit it. And man o man is the dad a jerk. He actually uses his son as a lure to get a closeted rival to agree to a merger from which he plans to steal $6 million. Yeah, he's a real nice guy. But the thing is the play isn't really about that. Which is remarkable for a play written in the early 1960s that features the casual acknowledgement of homosexuality. It's really about what it means to grow up and the relationship between a son and a father. Lets just say this isn't really the healthiest of father/son relationships. At one point Gregor Antonescu (the father) tells his son's girlfriend that the most important words are about truth and falsehood and - at it's heart - his relationships with his son and to a lesser extent his bodyguard/right-hand-man revolve around the difference between sharing everything and nothing. His relationships hinge not on love, he actually finds the love of a son dangerous to his way of life, but on his truthfulness. All in all it was a really interesting and fantastically acted play that was remarkably topical for a play written in 1961 and set in 1930. Stepping away from my more literary analysis, the plot is very reminiscent of the Bernie Madoff scandal.
It's worth saying that the set is really cool too. It's set in a basement apartment in the Village and it is really realistically set. It's built really well and it really enhances the theater-going experience. One interesting choice the director made was to have some of the actors walk back and forth on a raised platform meant to simulate the sidewalk to create the impression that the actors were really in a city with people going about their business as a financial empire imploded beneath them. I thought it was a really nice, subtle touch.
So all in all, I would really recommend the show to you. I think it's still in previews or at least hasn't been reviewed yet, otherwise I would share with you the views of the New York Times theater reviewers; but sadly that is not to be the case. When the review comes out I'll post it in the comments.
This play looks at the complex relationship between a corrupt financier and his estranged son who still worships him even though he won't admit it. And man o man is the dad a jerk. He actually uses his son as a lure to get a closeted rival to agree to a merger from which he plans to steal $6 million. Yeah, he's a real nice guy. But the thing is the play isn't really about that. Which is remarkable for a play written in the early 1960s that features the casual acknowledgement of homosexuality. It's really about what it means to grow up and the relationship between a son and a father. Lets just say this isn't really the healthiest of father/son relationships. At one point Gregor Antonescu (the father) tells his son's girlfriend that the most important words are about truth and falsehood and - at it's heart - his relationships with his son and to a lesser extent his bodyguard/right-hand-man revolve around the difference between sharing everything and nothing. His relationships hinge not on love, he actually finds the love of a son dangerous to his way of life, but on his truthfulness. All in all it was a really interesting and fantastically acted play that was remarkably topical for a play written in 1961 and set in 1930. Stepping away from my more literary analysis, the plot is very reminiscent of the Bernie Madoff scandal.
It's worth saying that the set is really cool too. It's set in a basement apartment in the Village and it is really realistically set. It's built really well and it really enhances the theater-going experience. One interesting choice the director made was to have some of the actors walk back and forth on a raised platform meant to simulate the sidewalk to create the impression that the actors were really in a city with people going about their business as a financial empire imploded beneath them. I thought it was a really nice, subtle touch.
So all in all, I would really recommend the show to you. I think it's still in previews or at least hasn't been reviewed yet, otherwise I would share with you the views of the New York Times theater reviewers; but sadly that is not to be the case. When the review comes out I'll post it in the comments.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)