Avante-garde but Accessible

Wilson, Robert, dir. The Black Rider. The Ahmanson Theatre. Los Angeles, CA. 4/28/06.

I really enjoyed The Black Rider, which was a "musical fable" based on a German folk tale with libretto by William S. Burroughs, music by Tom Waits, and direction and design by Robert Wilson. This is a fascinating combination of three very interesting and actually fairly distinct sensibilities. The resulting production was not exactly an opera, but more than a traditional piece of theater, and certainly not what one would expect from musical theater. It was what one would expect from Robert Wilson, famous for theatrical experiences such as Einstein on the Beach except relatively short (under 3 hours with 1 intermission) and honestly rather weirdly pleasant.

The feeling of the show was dark, but playful; it was very German, and it makes perfect sense that two of the leads (Matt McGrath as Wilhelm and Vance Avery as Pegleg) had both played the Emcee in Cabaret on Broadway. The leads (McGrath, Avery, and Mary Margaret O'Hara as Kathchen) were extremely skilled and did an excellent job at expressing Wilson's movement and Waits' music. I especially enjoyed McGrath in Wilhelm's dance at the crossroads, a beautiful moment in Act II.

The interesting thing about this show is that Act I and Act II were profoundly different, especially in pacing. Act I was relatively narrative and mostly clear, with songs frequently advancing the plot and a story progressing in a recognizable manner. Act II was more expressive, with much less happening in terms of action and more in visual spectacle and feeling. It was like one slowed down extended moment emphasizing the climax of the piece. The pacing for Act II seemed deliberately much slower, and more like what I expected from Robert Wilson. Looking back, I find the contrast between the two acts fascinating and delightful, an excellent choice for this strange piece of theater.

My overall opinion of this is that it has the advantages of Robert Wilson's work with a minimalization of the drawbacks; it's avante-garde and visually stunning but less maddeningly slow than some of his other work. It has a clear plot and sense of action, but it uses actors' bodies and visual spectacle as important instruments of the storytelling. If Robert Wilson, German Expressionism, or Avante-garde are ideas that appeal to you, I would recommend this piece. I certainly wouldn't take my mother, but I would take all my goth or hipster friends. It's an important theatrical experience, and while it's not for everyone, it is fascinating and well-done.

You might also be interested in the LA Times review, which I found quite informative.

UPDATE: Metroblogging LA also has a review up from someone who is less of a theater nerd, which some people might find useful in deciding whether or not to see this piece.

Lesbian Booksignings!

Two fun and exciting upcoming lesbian booksignings at Book Soup:

Thursday, May 25th, 7pm
Sarah Schulman presents and signs Empathy
The award-winning author of After Delores writes a novel that probes the
questions of sexual identity, self-renewal, and transformation. An office
temp's journey of self-discovery culminates when she meets another woman. (Arsenal Pulp)

Thursday, June 8th, 7pm
Alison Bechdel presents and signs Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic
This breakout book by Alison Bechdel takes its place alongside the
unnerving, memorable, darkly funny family memoirs of Augusten Burroughs
and Mary Karr. It"s a father-daughter tale pitch-perfectly illustrated
with Bechdel"s sweetly gothic drawings and like Marjane Satrapi's
Persepolis, a story exhilaratingly suited to the graphic memoir form.
(Houghton Mifflin)

Reasons to wish I were in NY

Besides the fact that many of my friends seem to be moving there:

Vaginal Davis is performing and hosting a Bricktops Manhattan as part of the Where Art and Life Collide series of events. How great does this sound:

Saturday, April 29, 7pm
Bricktops Club will take the streets of downtown Manhattan in full costume, parading as speakeasy characters of 1920s in broad daylight. At 7pm Failed Dwarfstar's Beatrice Glow and Bricktopschildren will be throwing a welcome party for Bricktops hostess Vaginal Cream Davis in the Soho boutique, Burrow. Come costumed...or else ready to be transformed, do the Charleston to live music, and sip some Bootlegged goodies!
FREE
Burrow, 31 Crosby St., between Grand and Broome

Thursday, May 4, 10:00 PM
Vaginal Davis will host a one night only revival of this 1920’s themed showstopper extravaganza of old-timey glamour as “Bricktops Takes Manhattan,” with salons, shacks and speakeasy installations built by Future Art Stars from the NYU Steinhardt Department of Art and Art Professions in collaboration with Obie and Bessie award winning set designer Michael Casselli. Produced by Earl Dax Presents, with performances by the DJ Billy Miller of Straight to Hell, John Blue, Jennifer Miller, Julie Atlas Muz, and Surprise Guests.
Siberia, 356 West 40th Street, $10

I'd also love to see Lisa Kron(formerly of the Five Lesbian Brothers)'s The Well before it closes. I hear (via Playgoer) that it's not doing well at filling a Broadway-size house and thus affordable tickets can be obtained. Which is sad, but also reason that those who can should go see it.

Church Lady Drag

Go To Church. The Cavern Club Theater. 4/16/06.

I was pretty excited to be spending Easter going to what I believed was a church-themed drag show in the basement of a Mexican restaurant with some of the people I've come to consider almost family. It felt queer and appropriate and subversive and wonderful. It was also a great warm-up for our upcoming Backyard Drag show whose theme was to be "High Church."

Sadly, "Go To Church" didn't live up to the appropriateness of the situation. It was more performance art than drag, which isn't necessarily a bad thing in my mind; the real disappointment was that after the first number, it rather lost its theme. It included several numbers and skits that had very little to do with church, including an interesting but inexplicable rendition of "Paper Roses" and an actually pretty funny talk show piece called "Two Jans and a Janet" featuring Selene Luna and the only cross-dressing of the night by Robbie D. The two of them made a great pair, but this closing bit went on a little too long. For the most part, the show felt like one big inside joke and some of the bits were funny but several of them seemed as if they were just filling up time. As this was their first of a series of performances, it felt a bit under-reheased and thrown together. Their next performance will feature drag queen Jackie Beat who I've heard is excellent and thus the show might get better, but personally I was disappointed. I rather suspect each of the performers has done and could do better work. I would have been happy if they had just managed to keep it all church-themed.

The Al Pacino Show

Oscar Wilde's Salome. The Wadsworth Theatre. Brentwood, CA. 4/20/06.

It seems that when this production was in New York, it was publicized as Oscar Wilde's Salome: The Reading. Somehow, the subtitle was dropped in LA publicity and thus I was suprised to see music stands and folding chairs on stage at the Wadsworth. I'm not sure minimalism does credit to Wilde's opulent poetry in Salome (the text of which is available here if you're interested), though the reading does place emphasis on the language and the acting. With nothing else to look at on stage, Al Pacino as Herod and Jessica Chastain as Salome embraced the challenge of commanding the audience's full attention and bringing life to to an extremely lush script almost entirely though personal charisma.

In this particular version, Al Pacino as Herod very clearly stole the show. His spectacular portrayal of a proud and dissolute king kept the audience engaged through long speeches in which all he did was list possessions or boast of his power. He is very clearly a masterful actor who made this role his own, and I feel fortunate to have witnessed his skill in person.

Jessica Chastain in many ways had a much more challenging job in interpreting the role of Salome, and though she was beautiful and compelling in the role, there were moments when the reading style of the performance held her back. To be denied the horror of seeing her kiss Jokanaan's lifeless head made the end of the play strange and abrupt, making her seem more childish and less passionate. Similarly, relying entirely on text instead of connection or touch between the actors made her passion for Jokanaan and her rejection by him seem awkward and superficial. The stilted lack of interaction between the actors did, however, throw into relief the moment in which Salome danced. She stepped out of the reading style and took possesion of the stage and the audience's gaze in a dance that quickly passed from a fairly traditional-seeming (not that I'm an expert) belly dance to a bare-breasted modern frenzy. The dance and certainly her body were compelling, though I think that as the centerpiece of the show, it should have lasted a little longer and transitioned more slowly from sexy to insane.

Overall, it was an interesting but odd production that showcased good acting, but perhaps did not do justice to the spirit of Wilde's text.

My Lukewarm Reaction to the Ahmanson's New Season

CTG announced their lineup for next season. The LA Times reports it here. As the Times indicates, it's rather deficient on new and exciting work. The shows are mostly Broadway imports, including Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf complete with stars Kathleen Turner and Bill Irwin and Doubt starring Cherry Jones. I'm a little ambivalent about the whole thing. It's nice, and very convenient, to have some of the most exciting things from Broadway come to LA mostly intact, but it's not exactly inspiring to just be the second or third stop for shows that have already played in New York and London. As our largest and most expensive local theater, I'd like to see the Ahmanson do some new and exciting work, but it matters much more to me what they schedule for the Taper and the Kirk Douglas. I haven't attended either of those smaller theaters this season, mostly because I was so disappointed in Michael Ritchie's decimation of Gordan Davidson's tradition of developing new work, often by queers and people of color, in favor of programming "classics" such as The Cherry Orchard or relying on the names of famous playwrights (David Mamet) and actors (Alfred Molina, Laurence Fishburne) to sell the shows.

In terms of the Ahmanson's season, it actually looks rather inticing, if not really inspiring. The season consists of two classics (Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and Twelve Angry Men), two of last year's biggest new works from Broadway (Doubt and Light in the Piazza), a new (if not terribly original-sounding) musical (Berry Gordy's Aint No Mountain High Enough), and Matthew Bourne's Edward Scissorhands, which I really do want to see. Though it would be nice to see the Ahmanson do more that's original and exciting, this is a solid season to which I would at least consider subscribing. At least there aren't any holes in the season this time. The whole thing is very commercial, clearly designed to appeal (almost exclusively) to middle-class, middle-aged white people who pay attention to what's on Broadway but don't travel there, and who can affort to go to the Ahmanson. There's absolutely nothing reflective of or particularly relevant to LA or its population, but these are mildly intereting shows that I would rather like to see.

On the Margins

Violet Blue posted today that Patrick Califia recently suffered from a heart attack. A friend reports that he is recovering, but facing terrible medical bills without insurance.

An article by Califia was one of the first things I read in grad school, and I have been extremely grateful for all of his work that I have discovered since. Public Sex is one of my favorite books, a brilliant combination of scholarship and passion in clear, intelligent essays. His erotica manages to push my buttons perfectly, no matter the gender, sexuality, or species of its subjects. I would gladly encourage you to rush out and buy any or all of his books, depending on your taste (tell me if you want a review or recommendation).

But more importantly, this is a reminder that many of my favorite writers and performers are working without a net. There are no health insurance providers and often no retirement accounts, savings or middle-class families to fall back on for performance artists, freelance writers, and sex radicals. Peggy Shaw references her uninsured status in Menopausal Gentleman, and Susie Bright asks for donations so that she can afford to give some of her writing time away for free on her blog. These people provide work of great value in this world, and in doing so are uncared for by our system. Califia deserves whatever people can give him to help ease his pain and provide for his ongoing medical care. Califia's LiveJournal page and his website provide information on how to donate via PayPal or postal mail. Please, do what you can to support him and other other writers and performers working on the margins of regular employment, steady paychecks, and health insurance. Do it so that hopefully they can worry less about money and instead spend their time experiencing life and writing about it, sharing with us as much of their work as possible.

Theater at its Best

Miller, Arthur. All My Sons. The Geffen Playhouse. 3/12/06.

I'm not actually a huge Arthur Miller fan. I understand why he's important and I respect his skill as a writer, but I've never really loved his work. I've read Death of a Salesman and The Crucible a million times each, and I saw The Ride Down Mt. Morgan on Broadway, but in general, I wouldn't exactly rush out to see an Arthur Miller play. I'm more likely to write it off as heavy-handed American Realism, obsessed with fathers and sons and the suffering of the straight, white, middle-class American male. While all these assumptions aren't entirely false, they fail to encompass my experience this evening.

All My Sons at the Geffen was extemely well-crafted in every aspect of the production, and as such it was a truly wonderful experience at the theater. It actually energized me, making me want to see more theater, and left me a bit stunned at the skill of playwright, director, cast, and everyone else involved. A significant portion of what made this play so great for me had a lot to do with a fabulous cast, headed by Len Cariou (Sweeney Todd on Broadway), Laurie Metcalf (original member of the Steppenwolf and most famous as the sister from Rosanne), and Neil Patrick Harris (Rent, Assassins, and of course Doogie Howser). Harris blew me away; his character was the conscience of the play and he appeared from his entrance as both a good, decent guy and a reasonably complex character so that his morality was believable. This man is a truly skilled actor, and I should remember to see anything else in which he performs whenever I have the chance. Len Cariou as the flawed patriarch did an excellent job at seeming lovable even as his morally corrupt actions were exposed. In this, only the second performance, he seemed to be grasping for lines at several points especially in the first act, but he made this stumbling sound more like character-appropriate senility than the mistake that I assume it was. Laurie Metcalf as the mother gave a compelling and nuanced performance that kept the play from being carried away entirely by fathers and sons. Amy Sloan rounded out the main characters of the play with compelling strength and practicality and held her own among these luminaries.

When I say that this play was well-crafted, I mean that everything seems to have been done with skill, passion, committment and energy. Not only the acting, which was fabulous from leads Harris, Metcalf and Cariou to little Sterling Beaumon as the neighbor kid, but even the sets (by Robert Blackman) and the costumes (by David Mickelsen) were extremely well-done with excellent attention to detail. The high-waisted '50s pants caught my attention, as did the full facades of neighboring houses that extended the realism into the wings. Excellent pacing drove to a rapid conclusion that left me a little shocked, but greatful for not having been dragged slowly through Miller's moralizing. Artistic Director Randall Arney deserves credit at the helm of an outstanding production. I highly recommend it, as both classic and timely, but mostly as excellent theater.

Drag for the whole family

Dame Edna: Back with a Vengeance. Ahmanson Theater. 4/6/06.

Dame Edna is the giga-star (that much more than a mega-star) drag persona of Barry Humphries. She's a hilarous comedian with fabulously glittery costumes, and I laughed outrageously throughout the show. The performance was well-written, well-paced (it was nearly 3 hours long, but the time flew by!), and funny thoughout. Dame Edna performed songs and dances and fabulous audience interaction, which is not easy in a venue as large as the Ahmanson. It was quite nice to be in the back and thus know that we were safe from being called on by the Dame herself. It's a wonderful show and anyone who goes is sure to laugh until they hurt. I was especially impressed by the full costume change for the curtain call and the animatronic flowers, both of which were hilarious. So go to the show; you'll love it, I'm sure.

I couldn't help thinking throughout the show, however, that this was drag for straight people. It was safe, middle-class, all white, and not very political. Edna performed couples counseling, choosing a nice married couple out of the audience to drag on stage and embarrass. Humphries' bio carefully mentions his wife and children. It's all of the fun and camp and sequins of a drag show without those pesky homosexuals. While extremely queer and fabulous performers like Lypsinka are performing to half-full houses in tiny venues and Vaginal Davis is semi-homeless when she's here in LA, I felt a little guilty that my money was going to support Dame Edna. I felt as if I should instead spend my time and money at The Cavern Club Theater and Backyard Drag supporting local queer performers. And where are the fabulous, famous drag kings, btw?

Film Noir Festival!

This week and next (April 7-16), the Egyptian and the Aero Theaters will be conducting the 8th Annual Festival of Film Noir. They will be showing some famous noir films such as The Damned Don't Cry and some obscure and newly restored films such as Angel's Flight. They especially focus on films set and shot in LA. Some personal highlights include:

The Damned Don't Cry (1950), Saturday, April 8, starring Joan Crawford.

Ruby Gentry (1952), Saturday, April 8, directed by King Vidor. With Charlton Heston and Karl Malden. Tagline: "The story of Ruby Gentry, who wrecked a whole town - man by man...sin by sin."

Beyond the Forest (1949), Saturday, April 8, directed by King Vidor, starring Bette Davis.

Don't Bother to Knock (1952), Sunday, April 9, starring Marilyn Monroe and Anne Bancroft.

No Man of Her Own (1950), Saturday, April 15, starring Barbara Stanwyck.

Most of the showings are double features, so you get a whole evening of double-crosses, murder, and femmes fatales. The full calendar is here. So, anyone want to go to a movie (or two) with me? This might very well be my plan for Saturday night.

Children's Musical Round-up

Dr. Dolittle. Orange County Performing Arts Center. 3/23/06.
and
Honk! Laguna Playhouse. 3/31/06.

These are two familiar stories made into musicals best suited for children, but fun nonetheless. Dr. Dolittle is most memorable for Tommy Tune's performance; he's an extremely skilled entertainer and he carries a musical with a tenuous plot and little else to speak for it. At over 60, Tune's tap-dancing is wonderfully skillful; I would gladly have clamored for more and more. The sets and costumes were also well done (by Kenneth Foy and Ann Hould-Ward respectively) and extremely fun and colorful. Talented twelve-year-old tap-dancer Aaron Burr (yes, really) as Chee-Chee the Monkey also had a delightful tap dancing scene and a charismatic, playful performance throughout the show. Dee Hoty as the leading lady in the show did an admirable job in a role that wasn't thoroughly fleshed-out. The main problem with the show, however, was that its plot was rather tenuous, better for children with short attention spans and little care for continuity, than adults that may want to think about the show even a little.

Honk! had slightly more substance but not a great deal. It's the story of the Ugly Duckling, adapted into a children's musical, including several roles for children. The Laguna Playhouse used it as an opportunity to showcase the students in their conservatory program as chicks, ducklings, and froglets (including some pretty impressive dancing) while hiring adults to take the major roles. This show was also cute and has a little more substance to keep the parents interested. The sets by Wally Huntoon created an adorable larger-than-life watercolor farm. My major complaint here was the costumes, which looked quite low-budget including a few too many sweatpants and tennis shoes for my taste. In the costumer's defense, there were an awful lot of characters to outfit in this production with what was, I'm sure, a tiny budget, and certainly some costumes were better than others. I just don't think sweats are ever really the right choice, and especially with the goslings I had a lot of trouble figuring out what animal the characters were supposed to be.

Both of these productions were light and fun and good for children, but I wouldn't rush out as an adult to either of them. Do bring your kids, though; teach them the magic of theater while they're young and start a tradition of theatrical attendance now.

Review by Proxy

I've been told that Claire Z. at Sacred Fools is excellent. It's based on absurdist Durrenmatt's The Visit. The plot summary is promising:

Singing eunuchs, bizarre butlers, drumming, chanting and much more!

The richest woman in the world returns to her hometown: an impoverished little village enduring an agonizing period of decline. She will open her purse and give her vast wealth to the town, restoring it to grandeur, on one condition: kill Alfred Schill, the man who wronged her years before.

Will they kill him? Absurd... but the town is desperate, and Claire can wait...

CLAIRE Z is a percussive-driven, movement based theater piece drawing from the work of Grotowski and Suzuki, featuring the music of Lou Reed, Simon & Garfunkel and much more.

I hope I can get out there before it closes next weekend!

Vendetta

V for Vendetta.

Seeing V for Vendetta last night with friends inspired a long evening of conversation about the politics of film, comics, and video games, and, of course, politics in general, which is in itself almost enough of a reason for me to see it. Anything that leaves me wanting to talk about it was well done, even if it wasn't exactly the movie I wanted.

I have complaints. V was too conversational, to voluble at the beginning when he should have been mysterious. I wasn't sucked into the world of the film immediately; I would have liked to see more setting established. Evey and V aren't the only things going on in this world, and I would have liked to see more of that immediately, and not just through the TV. Some of the editing was difficult, and not necessarily good.

But by the end, I was completely wrapped up in the film. It did a wonderful job of tying all the plotlines and metaphors together, building to a truly stunning climax. It was a fairly faithful rendition of the graphic novel, editing some subplots out for the sake of clarity, playing up the ties to the contemporary situation, but for the most part following the plan layed out by Alan Moore in the graphic novel.

Moore, however, wants nothing to do with the film. He had his name redacted and refused a share of the profits. He has reasons to be angry, some of which are explained in this New York Times article. In addition to his disputes with DC Comics, who do indeed make a habit of stripping their authors of any intellectual property rights, Moore's objections to film adaptation stem partially from his commitment to establishing graphic novels as a valid and complex medium in their own right, rather than just prototypes for film. His worst fears about film might be evident in an examination of From Hell and how completely unrelated to Moore's dark, literate graphic novel the Hollywood movie turned out to be.

I've read V for Vendetta and I must say that the film in some ways felt more clear, just a little easier, but for the most part very similar. I definitely felt that I knew what was coming every moment. Both were intensely literate, dripping Shakespeare quotes and images of famous artwork, and not at all subtle, trying to force the audience into some realization about life, politics, and revolution.

But will people see this movie? Will they think about it beyond the big explosions? Why aren't people angry? Can they really think it's just a movie, rather than a much-needed political speech of an extreme variety? Perhaps the New York Times Review is an indication, dismissing it all too easily in a show of wit rather than serious consideration. The only sentence in the entire review I agree with is that it "never manages to make this Goth dystopia pop." Although perhaps this one at least deserves some consideration: "The more valid question is how anyone who isn't 14 or under could possibly mistake a corporate bread-and-circus entertainment like this for something subversive." Like this sentence, the whole review is haughty and superior, not for a moment giving the movie credit as a political statement. And perhaps the reviewer is right that within the system you can't possibly overturn it and this film is indeed motivated by profit as much if not more than by art or politics. But I think that the people dismissing this as a facile political statement are wrong. It's saying something that needs to be said, in the 1980s, now, and again: the government is wrong, DO SOMETHING.

Review Long Deferred

faults, lies, and faultlines. Katastrophe. 2005.

When I ordered this CD, I meant to write a review fairly quickly. But with CDs, I tend to want to let them sit in my head for a while, to give myself a chance to figure out when I want to come back to them. And the first time I listened to fault, lies, and faultines, it didn't quite get stuck in my head (with the possible exception of the first song, "The Life." I wanted to listen to it more, understand it deeper, penetrate the lyrics, but I didn't immediately love it. So, taking a month to listen to it occasionally, and to come back to it whenever I wanted, I've discovered exactly how wonderful it is.

There's an amazing level of depth and complexity in this CD, both in terms of layers of sound and layers of meaning. It's a little different than Let's f*ck and then talk about my problems, which I feel does a lot of work toward establishing a persona for katastrophe. This album seems to wrestle more with issues and individual choices, from "Diamond rings," which claims "I'm fine, without those diamond rings attached to price tags. I'd make a nice dad, but I'm not taking any chances in a word that takes advantage" to "all wrong" which says "It doesn't matter if you even like me anyway. 'cause you don't live my life and I don't know what it's like for you. So you mind yours and I'll mind mine and everybody can get along just fine." And katastrophe doesn't back away from trans identity and trans issues in this CD; queer and trans issues are integrated throughout the album, sometimes coded and sometimes direct, but very clearly part of a larger identity and larger issues with which the album wrestles.

The first song on the CD, "The Life," is a collaboration with Shaggy Manatee and Ruby Valentine of Romanteek. The several voices within the song make it a lot of fun, and it's a great song to dance to. The chourses of "break down" and "drop a line" and "read me" similarly compell me to dance and sing along. Other songs feature pointfivefag and jb rap (Juba Kalamka and Jeree Brown of Deep Dick Collective), cindy wonderful of Scream Club, and aggracyst. The entire album is a beautiful balance between multiple layers of katastrophe's unique voice and collaborations that add interesting complementary voices, demonstrating a commitment to a queer hip hop/rap community. It also has a great tension between brilliant lyrics and poetry I want to listen to and fun beats I want to dance to.

And I must mention "fake meat" which is a wonderfully witty rumination on insecurity, both personal and financial. Katastrophe even reminds us that "I ain't proud to let y'all know money come in slow, so dig deep and we'll all sleep easy," which, oddly enough, rather than irritating me that he's asking for money, actually makes me want to send some to him. I think I'll order a replacement for that long lost copy of his first album now. Anyway, I highly recommend this CD, but it took me some time thinking about it before I really fell in love with it. The more I listen to the lyrics, the more impressed I am.

Full Disclosure

Recently, I found myself in a situation I never expected. This blog actually lead to a real world benefit for me. Specifically, Sarafina from the band Lipstick Conspiracy read this post from when I saw them perform at Fresh Meat. Not only did she contact me, which was sweet, but she took pity on my complaints of poverty and gave me a copy of the CD, Don't Tell a Soul, that I never managed to buy when I saw them perform. I was delighted! I'm a huge fan of free stuff, and this CD made me very happy. The only things I have to offer in exchange for this wonderful gift are a mention here on my blog and a review, so even though she didn't ask me to, I promised to at least link to the band's website. For a moment, I felt almost guilty about that. Does this mean I'm bribe-able? Will I promote anything that gives me free stuff? I decided that this was a silly little moral dilemma because:

A. I make no claims to professionalism and journalistic ethics
B. I saw, enjoyed, and linked to the group before they gave me anything
C. Reviewers get free CDs, books, theater tickets, etc. all the time

So, basically, I decided that if anyone wants me to review anything (CDs, books, videos, fabulous fashion accessories, etc) feel free to send it to me. I also accept theater tickets (gladly!). I'd love to get stuff to review. I'd love to be more aware of cool and especially queer bands, performers, etc. So, while I doubt anyone will take me up on the offer, feel free to email me and offer me things to review. I'll do my best to provide thorough consideration, interesting and honest opinions, my performance studies expertise, and appropriate links.

I'm also excited to hear a rumor that Lipstick Conspiracy is in the process of recording a new CD and may be touring this summer. So feel free to check back here (or here) soon for info on when they'll be in SoCal. I'll also be reviewing their CD shortly.

Book Signings

There are two very interesting author tours coming up in the near future.

Sunday, March 26, 7pm
Michelle Tea reads and/or signs (I'm not sure) Rose of No Man's Land at Skylight Books

Leslie Feinberg will be in California speaking and signing hir new novel, drag king dreams

Thursday, March 23, 7pm
LGBT Liberation in Time of War Abroad and Repression at Home
Featuring Leslie Feinberg
with LeiLani Dowell of Fight Imperialism Stand Together
and John Parker of International Action Center-LA
5274 W Pico Blvd, #203
Sponsored by: Leftbooks.com & International Action Center – LA

Tuesday, March 28, 7pm
An Evening with Leslie Feinberg
Transgender Author and Activist
One Institute National Gay and Lesbian Archives

(Feinberg info via thuggery & skullduggery)

You know what this means? It means I'll be buying Rose of No Man's Land in hardback. I have an irrational distaste for hardback books, but sometimes, you're stuck with them.

Another Reason I Wish I Could Date Annalee Newitz

I am completely in love with Annalee Newitz and especially what she is wearing in this picture (via Laughing Squid). Please note the t-shirt with blazer (hot) and especially the matching plaid bottoms. Pants? Skirt? I don't know, but either way, it's pretty darn awesome. I also love that her t-shirt says something, but the only word we can read is "gay." Rock on.

Disclaimer: Annalee Newitz is clearly a genius and writes a weekly column at AlterNet on technology which generally explains and comments amusingly on things about which I had no idea I should care. Go read this week's column on the attention economy. She is my latest internet crush, but otherwise has no connection to me whatsoever and should not be concerned by my mild stalking.

Oscar Roundup

I thought I'd share my thoughts and some of what I've been reading about the Oscars. I am very disappointed that Crash won, although I can't say anything against it because I didn't see it. I didn't see it because I heard mostly mediocre things from my friends who did see it and I know several people who HATED it. Hardly a resounding endorsement. I felt that both Brokeback Mountain and Good Night and Good Luck were execellent examples of what filmmaking could be. These were gorgeous, important, challenging films. Not only did they have something to say, but they had a style that supported and delivered that message in a clear, effective way. Again, I can't say whether Crash fits in this category as well or not.

Instead, I will point you to the LA Times, where James Bates explains the promotion and insider politics behind Crash's win and where Kenneth Turan offers a wonderfully angry breakdown of how Crash was the safe choice. Turan isn't the only one who feels that this decision was homophobic. The Virgina Quarterly Review and Backwards City (via Bookslut) both discuss Crash's win as homophobic and conservative. Cintra Wilson at Salon similarly discusses how the Oscars this year were safe, pandering to the conservatives. Finally, Bill Robinson at the Huffington Post has a slightly creepy counterperspective that I find disquieting but interesting.

I did indeed find the Oscars a bit upsetting. I can't really say for sure that the refusal to honor Brokeback (and Felicity Huffman for Transamerica) was homophobic, but it does feel that way. In fact, it feels a lot like after the last election when 8 states past anti-marriage amendments; it forced me to realize that there is a lot of the country that still hates us. While grand, sweeping, beautiful statements such as Brokeback can be made, people still feel as if they have the right to hate or ignore them just because they're gay.

George Clooney began the night so well, claiming a proud, liberal tradition for the Oscars as politically out of touch in a good way. But then everything about the night fought to contradict him. Even the the horrible, nonsensical anti-DVD rants demonstrated exactly how conservative the Oscars really are. Come on, who watches Ben Hur in theaters?!? For those of us who aren't 92, all of the movies whose 'spectacle' they celebrated we first watched on DVD or on TV if at all. And maybe they should be showing more of the old classic movies at theaters to recapture some of the glory of great film. Perhaps their fight against DVDs should involve making moviegoing an event (and an enjoyable one rather than one about crowds and lines and screaming children and ringing cellphones) or perhaps they should just recognize that they don't get to dictate how and when people enjoy their products. But they shouldn't be lecturing and talking down to their audience in the middle of an awards show. Jon Stewart may know that, but apparently a lot of the Academy does not.

Even 'A Return To Glamour,' which was the theme of the Oscars this year, seems wrongheaded and conservative. None of these movies was about glamour. These were movies with something to say, which was mostly achieved through looking gritty or sparse. It was a refusal of artificial glamour that made them notable. By denying and ignoring that, the Oscars were once again trying to whitewash and hide the real issues.

Cintra Wilson's observation on Salon about Resse Witherspoon as advocating conservative values is brilliant and important. She's a beautiful, young, blond starlet who talks only about her husband and children and her grandmother. She seems unsure at times about whether she was playing June Carter Cash or her own grandmother. She stresses her similarity and identification with the role as a 'strong woman' and a 'real woman.' I'm mildly amused and slightly horrified by a couple of the people liveblogging the Oscars whose first thoughts after Reese's repeated "she's a real woman" comments were, "Is she saying something about Transamerica?" Examples here, here at 10:59 and here in the comments. I suspect she's just dumb and not that cruel, rude, and homophobic, but even the fact that it can be interpreted that way is pretty scary and reason enough why she shouldn't have said it. In this interview from two years ago, she talks about how motherhood has allowed her to play women with whom she can better identify. If this isn't a blatant promotion of conservative values, I don't know what is.

Finally, I'd like to point you to the latest Guerrilla Girls Oscar campaign: The 500-pound gorilla in Hollywood isn't King Kong—it's discrimination against women directors!. They remind us that:

Only 3 women have ever been nominated for an Oscar for Direction (Lina Wertmuller (1976), Jane Campion (1982,) and Sofia Coppola (2003). None has won.

Clearly, the Oscars are and have always been a boys club, and while they like to seem liberal and congratulate themselves, the reality is the same exclusion and discrimination that you see all over.

Another Moment in a Long Tradition of Broadway Orientalism

Bombay Dreams. Orange County Performing Arts Center. Segerstrom Hall. Costa Mesa, CA. 2/23/06.

Bombay Dreams is a musical set in the Bollywood film industry and on the streets of Bombay (now Mumbai). It was a beautiful, lush production with a talented cast, but it was still profoundly problematic. Despite its attempts at authenticity, several moments certainly evoked the orientalist tradition of Broadway musicals.

The good news is that, unlike Rodgers and Hammerstein in The King and I or South Pacific, Bombay Dreams features several people from the culture it represents, both in its cast and among its creators. Composer A R Rahman is indeed a composer for Bollywood films and the romantic leads are played by actors of Indian descent.

In fact, I suspect that a little more familiarity with Bollywood film and Indian culture might actually have increased my appreciation of this musical; a large proportion of the audience was Indian and I would guess that Bombay Dreams has elements of both tribute to and satire of the Bollywood genre that a greater literacy might have given more meaning.

There were some extremely troubling moments, however. My biggest problem is with the role and the treatment of the character of Sweetie (played by (Aneesh Sheth), whose unrequited love for the leading man, Akaash (played by Sachin Bhatt), is unbearably painful. She's a hijra played by a man and fated to die tragically in the end in a rather unnecessary moment of queer containment.

My other concern is the fact that in this touring production, only about half of the performers were of Indian descent. Almost the entire cast was extremely light-skinned, with several people from across Asia playing Bombay natives. Several of the men were apparently African-American Just as the Puerto Ricans in West Side Story are generally played anyone with dark hair, including Natalie Wood, whose parents were Russian.

The strength of Bombay Dreams is its spectacle. The lush production numbers, full of bright colors and beautiful dancing, make this an entertaining show despite its flaws. The Bollywood setting, like the long Broadway tradition of backstage musicals, provide ample opportunities for singing and dancing and the cast does so quite well.

Fred and Ginger with Backup

Never Gonna Dance. Musical Theatre West. Carpenter Performing Arts Center. Long Beach. 3/2/06.

Never Gonna Dance was a fairly inexplicable musical. It has the basic plot structure of the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers musical, Swing Time, but with changes to the plot that made even less sense than the original wacky 1930s musical. With Fred and Ginger, the plot was just an excuse to get from one dance number to another, but Never Gonna Dance lacked the pace and frivolity that made the Fred amd Ginger musicals so much fun.

The dancing throughout the show was excellent; leads David Engel as Lucky and Tami Tappan Damiano as Penny worked really hard and carried the show pretty well, and all of the chorus were extremely talented tap dancers. Every member of the chours got an opportunity to dance a bit of a solo as well as serve as ensemble backup dancers. It was odd, however, the way they adapted songs that were originally Fred and Ginger solos in closeup to production numbers. It drained a bit of the individual personality and chemistry away from the leads.

The performance I saw was questionable at best. There were several technical difficulties including a backdrop getting caught up on an electric and twisted. More problematically, the sound, especially in the second act, was extremely over-mic'd. It made even the leads sound shrill, and it ruined Harriet Harris' solo, showing just how much she wasn't a singer (although she's a brilliant character actress and performed quite admirably in "Shimmy with Me").

Overall, the show was fun, although in no means great. It had its moments, and it had its problems. I think as a concept, it was weak. I'd rather watch the original with Fred and Ginger. Or even a live stage production of the original text, without Never Gonna Dance's tweaked the plot and odd collection of songs.