Archives for January 2009

In an inspired bit of cross-disciplinary thinking, the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco commissioned monologist Josh Kornbluth to devise a performance based on Warhol’s Jews: Ten Portraits Reconsidered, the museum’s current exhibition of Andy Warhol’s famous 1980 portrait series depicting ten well-known Jewish luminaries. The celebrities depicted in the series include: Sarah Bernhardt, Louis Brandeis, Martin Buber, Albert Einstein, Sigmund Freud, the Marx Brothers (considered as one subject rather than three) Golda Meir, George Gershwin, Franz Kafka, and Gertrude Stein. 

The resulting performance, Andy Warhol: Good for the Jews?, provides an illuminating, touching and deeply personal journey into one monologist’s response to the portrait series. What I love best about Kornbluth’s monologue is its ability to reflect the personal feelings of the performer while at the same time echoing sensations that I myself experienced while wandering around the museum’s exhibition halls an hour before the show. Like Kornbluth, I felt confused and a bit put off by Warhol’s gaudy “flatnesses,” the famous faces masked by impenetrable wedges of color and scar-like outlines. Furthermore, I couldn’t understand why this 20th century Catholic master of commercial art would choose to make a study of ten Jews. Why not five Jews? Or ten scientologists?

Stuffed like a knish with Jewish humor, Kornbluth’s monologue dives into the series, looking for a way to connect with the portraits and ultimately the artist behind them. The hour-long performance takes us from the nonplussed opening sentiment of “Warhol’s Jews. Hmm. I didn’t know he kept Jews,” to the ultimate realization that Warhol is kind of like a door leading us to “I and Thou” — the core philosophy of existence espoused by the Jewish thinker Martin Buber (who happens to be one of Warhol’s ten Jews.) As such, the monologue takes us from feeling distanced from the portraits to feeling a boundless relationship with them — and their famously enigmatic creator.

The geniality and warmth of Kornbluth’s performance helps to draw us into his personal journey, which is woven together with anecdote from his past. Part sermon, part art lecture and part Borscht Belt standup routine, Kornbluth’s latest monologue is not only good for the Jews; it’s also good for the Contemporary Jewish Museum. By giving museum goers an intelligent and refreshingly different angle on the series, the museum helps us understand them better in a fun and non-didactic way that makes me want to re-visit the exhibition (and, by association, other shows at the museum) in the future. It would be great to see more museums looking for such ways to cross-fertilize and thus enrich their exhibitions.

Kornbluth’s show plays until January 22. Warhol’s Jews runs until February 3.

It’s been a long time since I’ve come across a more vitriolic collection of reader comments than the nearly 60 responses that follow Robert Hurwitt’s December 31 feature story on the San Francisco Chronicle’s SFGate.com site about the Magic Theatre‘s dramatic appeal to raise $350,000 by today, January 9, or face closure.

The anonymity of the online response system makes people comfortable about being rude, of course. And there are always going to be pissed-off individuals out there writing negative stuff just to let off steam. But it’s alarming to see just how much anger and cynicism greeted the news of the 42-year-old San Francisco new play bastion’s financial woes. Many responses have been deleted from the comments list because they “violated SFGate’s terms and conditions.” A high proportion of the comments that haven’t been removed range from the couldn’t-care-less (“Never heard of it when I lived there-guess I won’t miss it”) to the glib (“If they really are the Magic Theatre they can just conjure up some money…..can’t they?”) to the the venomous (“I’ve seen better productions and actors/singers at the local high school’s shows.”)

What’s behind this cavalcade of abuse? I don’t think all these people can be embittered, out-of-work actors angry about not being hired by the Magic over the years. Could this outpouring be justified in some way? One has to wonder what’s really going on over at Fort Mason when, within the space of less than a year, an artistic director doesn’t get his contract renewed, a new artistic director comes in, the managing director gets fired, vast amounts of supposedly unknown debt surfaces and the company embarks upon an “emergency campaign”. One of the article’s respondees, kwoh910, doubtless echoes many concerned theatregoers when he/she writes: “I was going to donate to help save this theater, but now will reconsider. How did they get themselves in such a mess? Why did their managing leader suddenly leave? Was he responsible for this? To have debt that they didn’t know about leads me to believe there is severe mismanagement going on. I don’t want my donation to go into a black hole. I’d rather give to a more solid and trustworthy organization.”

I personally would like to see the Magic Theatre pull itself out of this hole. The company is an important part of this country’s arts legacy and I’ve been impressed so far with what I’ve seen of new artistic director Loretta Greco’s work. I donated to the Magic’s campaign despite certain misgivings of the type espoused by kwoh910.

But there seems to be a lot of smoke and mirrors type stuff going on which makes me feel nervous. Today, the emergency campaign deadline day, the company announced on its website that it would be extending the deadline for three more days. This makes the original ultimatum look rather arbitrary. The fact that the company has started rehearsals for its next production also calls into the question the seriousness of the Magic’s plight. It’s not that I don’t believe that the company is in severe financial straits. It’s just that I don’t think it is being completely honest about the state of its debt and operations. “We parted ways about 10 days ago. That’s all I can say,” Greco is quoted as saying of ousted managing director David Jobin in the Chron article.  If the Magic wants to attract donors, don’t those donors deserve to know the cause of Jobin’s departure? As kwoh910 hints, it’s really just a matter of trust.

Amanda Ameer’s terrific post about classical music concert programs and related resources that may or may not help concertgoers get a handle on what they’re about to experience in the concert hall recalled a similar conversation I had with a director friend a few days ago regarding theatre programs.

Until this friend asked me for my views about what constitutes an effective program, I hadn’t given the idea much thought. Which is kind of embarrassing, considering the fact that I attend several theatrical productions a week and must have read and amassed thousands of programs over the years.

So what kinds of information should a program for a play contain beyond the usual cast list, biographies, roster of sponsors, ads by local restaurants and call for donations? And, while we’re on the subject, should all of these standard elements be included at all? Is a program in the traditional sense of the word even relevant today?

One thing that theatre programs tend to include and which strikes me as totally unnecessary, is a letter from the artistic and/or executive director of the producing company. These letters are meant to be welcoming and informative, but they’re usually completely dull, being loaded with panegyrics and generalizations. The AD/MD thanks the donors (do donors need to be thanked in the program? Surely a nice dinner / free theatre tickets / a brass nameplate on a seat-back says it all?) and pays bland lip service to the artistic team. Even worse, he or she might take a stab at summarizing the Big Themes of the play and talk about how they relate to the world we live in. It’s all a bit of a waste of space really.

Then there’s the production director or playwright’s essay about the play. Some directors/playwrights choose to leave this out entirely while others like to spell out their thinking in detail. If the director/playwright has done her job well, then the play should really speak for itself. Program notes that go to great lengths to underline the main themes and metaphors etc. seem pointless to me, though it’s always interesting, as an afterthought, to see to what extent the play fulfills the intentions written down in the program.

On the other hand, it can be useful and entertaining to have some pointers as an audience member. This is where dramaturgical research can come in handy. I like to look at tangential material such as paintings and photographs, websites, newspaper articles, poems, essays by philosophers/scientists/sociologists etc that went some way towards informing the production. These “third party” sources provide theatregoers with the tools to make the thematic connections themselves. They also provide some insight into the production process.

Which leads me to my next question: How much of this kind of information should — or even can — be delivered in the form of a traditional, stapled, paper program? Different theatre companies are experimenting with alternative ways of imparting information that might help enrich a theatregoer’s experience. At Shotgun Players in Berkeley, for example, the lobby is transformed for each production. Before the play, during intermission and afterwards, audience members can wander around the building, enjoying the “exhibition” of fascinating visual and written materials related (albeit often in a tangential way) to the spirit and substance of the play.

Companies are increasingly putting information of this type online, going well beyond the remit of traditional paper-bound program notes. Web-based video/audio interviews with the main artistic collaborators, blogs, production photographs and other materials provide a valuable resource for theatregoers.

The more I think about it, the more programs in the traditional sense of the word, seem obsolete. I like the idea of enabling audience members to upload podcasts with useful information such as interviews with the lead actor and director to listen to on their way to the theatre, or partnering with local radio to deliver this information over the airwaves.

Better still, wouldn’t it be great to receive an email from a theatre company the morning of the day I’m going to see a play, with all the useful information mentioned above included in it? That way, I could peruse and listen to the program notes on my laptop (Kindle, iPhone, Blackberry or whatever) at my leisure prior to and after attending the play.

Upon final analysis, maybe it would be a good thing if paper programs disappeared altogether. A simple one-page cast/production team list handed out at the start of the show to those that really want it should suffice. We’d save lots of trees, for one thing. Interns wouldn’t have to spend entire days collating and stapling pages together, for another.

Here are five upcoming Bay Area arts events to warm the body, mind and spirit during this particularly chilly January:

Over the weekend, I was introduced to what strikes me as a powerful and highly entertaining educational tool to help teachers turn elementary and high school kids as well as undergraduates onto Macbeth. Created in San Francisco by two Stanford lecturers – Jeremy Sabol and Greg Watkins — who teach the so-called Great Books class, This is Macbeth is a terrific, feature-length DVD about Shakespeare’s phantasmagoric tragedy of revenge. The film centers on a smartly-written television “interview” between a host — the 16th century historian Ralph Holinshed (Shakespeare’s source for the drama) – earnestly played by Sabol, and various characters from Shakespeare’s play.

Over the course of a couple of hours, we watch Holinshed quiz Macbeth, his wife, Banquo and King Duncan about the motivations for their actions, feelings regarding their relationships and the play’s turn of events. At one point, for example, Holinshed asks Duncan (played by an affable, blustering Ken Ruta) about his rationale for promoting Malcolm as next in line for the throne over Macbeth. Elsewhere, Holinshed asks Macbeth and Banquo (Mark Anderson Philips and Liam Vincent in a fine double-act) about their reactions to the witches. He also quizzes Lady Macbeth (a coldly poised Allison Jean White) about her lack of scruples on the night of Duncan’s murder. The actors all respond in character, but use contemporary language mixed with occasional quotes from the play itself.

Interspersed with the interviews are performances of key scenes from the play. Funny songs composed by Austin Zumbro and spoof TV commercials promoting the likes of “Out, Damn Spot!” stain remover and a Medieval weapons supplier provide a delightfully irreverent way to recap the plot and a simple device to break up the long interview scenes. A ticker tape news bulletin slides across the bottom of the screen throughout the interviews with quotes from famous Shakespeare scholars and philosophers about the play.  There’s something slightly odd about the fact that the characters don’t seem to know how the plot progresses beyond the present moment in which they’re being interviewed, and yet are still able to quote from Shakespeare’s text when asked to do so by Holinshed. But it’s easy to forgive this quirk because of the movie’s overall sense of fun, brilliant casting and seamless pace. The actors perform the scenes in a straightforward yet affecting fashion in simple modern street clothes. In short, This is Macbeth is an unstuffy, entertaining and highly useful educational tool. I’m not in school and I got a kick out of it. Ultimately, This is Macbeth is fun viewing for anyone who’s interested in theatre or Shakespeare.

“Greg and I teach together in a residential Great Books program at Stanford (the program is called Structured Liberal Education, and about 100 freshmen take it each year), and we are constantly trying to generate enthusiasm and interest in great works of literature and philosophy,” said Sabol in response to an email I sent him after I’d watched the DVD. “We thought we might reach a broader audience with a movie. We wanted to make something that would draw students towards the text, as opposed to replacing the experience of reading or watching the play.”

The producers are currently at work on developing a similar DVD for Hamlet, which will hopefully be filmed this Summer, with Romeo and Juliet following suite.

It’s a strange and uncomfortable thing when you find out about an event months or even years after the fact. Over the weekend, a friend of mine in Los Angeles forwarded me a link from the New York Times. The link led to an obituary of Jason Shinder, (pictured left) who died last April at age of 52. I guess my friend had found out about his passing very belatedly too. I was aghast at the news, feeling an icky combination of belated mourning and annoyance at myself for finding out about his passing so late. So much for our networked world.

Most people know Shinder as a poet. He served as Allen Ginsberg’s assistant and went on to author two volumes of poetry, Every Room We Ever Slept In (Sheep Meadow Press, 1993) and Among Women (Graywolf Press, 2001) as well as edit many anthologies including The Poem That Changed America: ‘Howl’ Fifty Years Later (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2006).

Other people know Shinder as the director of arts and humanities for the Y.M.C.A. Shinder founded the Y’s national arts and humanities program in the 1990s, including the Y.M.C.A. National Writer’s Voice, one of the country’s largest networks of literary-arts centers.

A small group of people, of which I am one, remember Jason in a third way — as the head of the Sundance Arts Journalism Institute. As a recipient, from 2002 to 2004, of this terrific but sadly short-lived Sundance Institute program aimed at developing the skills of arts journalists on the west coast, I was frequently in contact with Jason. I never quite found out why this East Coast poetry guy was so interested in working with a bunch of arts journalists on the west coast. He was always rather evasive and never really answered my questions. He ate very little and seemed painfully shy. I had no clue about his life outside of the program, let alone that he was suffering from lymphoma and leukemia.

I owe Jason a great debt for exposing me to so many wonderful people, places and ideas. As a result of winning the Sundance Fellowship, I attended the Sundance Summer Film Lab (the other picture above is of my group at the Lab) the Sundance Festival (twice) and the Sun Valley Writers’ Conference. I met and subsequently became friends with many brilliant writers. I found a couple of mentors. I expanded my ideas and goals. None of the above would have been possible without Jason.

I feel like an idiot discovering the news so late. To whom do I send flowers?

Postscript: A couple of days ago, I received an email from someone who found themselves in a similar predicament with regards to Jason’s passing. Here’s Barbara Hager’s email message (thanks, Barbara, for agreeing to let me share your thoughts about Jason on my blog):

Hello Chloe,

All the best,
Barbara.

Contrary to what you might think from the title of this entry, this isn’t another post about Julie Andrews. The spooonful in the title refers to a fantastic, free online newsletter which introduces recipients to one emerging artist or band each week.

The service, which offers musical tastes of bands and artists working in such genres as alternative, dance, electronic, folk, hip-hop and rock, launched in May 2008. I’ve been very impressed with it in the couple of months that I’ve been a subscriber.

What makes Spooonful different to other online music missives is its minimalism. In the way that Google‘s plain, uncluttered interface drew in Web users when the search engine debuted 10 years ago, Spooonful’s offering of just one musical act per issue gives people a chance to digest the music properly. Our attention is fully focused on the one featured artist or band on offer — we don’t feel bamboozled by being offered multiple different things to listen to and read about.

The formula is straightforward: Each week, subscribers receive an email in their inbox comprising of the following information of the week’s selected artist or band: their name, where they come from, the musical genre(s) they work in and what other more famous acts they resemble. Then, following an audio link that enables subscribers to hear one of the artist’s tracks (as well as download the track and/or create a cellphone ring tone out of it should they wish to go that far) the newsletter goes into some succinct but intelligently-written detail about what makes the act so special and their back story. The bulletin ends with some links to help users find the act elsewhere in cyberspace (eg the artist’s website / myspace page / entry on Wikipedia / recording company etc) and tour information.

As a result of Spooonful, I’ve been turned on to a number of new musical acts lately, one of which, a new wave outfit from New York called The Virgins, I’m keeping a close eye on. The clean look of the website and its easy-to-digest format prevents overload, which makes the service’s name perfectly chosen. What I’d like to see is the service expanding to other musical forms like classical, jazz and world music, or perhaps similar services popping up for these other genres elsewhere in cyberspace. Perhaps they exist already in this user-friendly format. If they do, please send the information my way. I’d love to hear more.

Macbeth and Project Runway seem like an odd pairing for a double-bill. But yesterday evening, the Berkeley-based theatre company Shotgun Players followed up a New Year’s Eve performance of Macbeth with a spoof version of the popular television fashion show.

Mark Jackson’s production starring Craig Marker as Shakespeare’s over-ambitious thane offsets the play’s sick political soul with slick surfaces. The actors all strut about in designer duds, their messy guts spilling onto the on the catwalk-shaped stage both literally and figuratively throughout.

As such, the company’s choice of post-show, New Year’s Eve entertainment — “Project Macway” — made bizarre sense. After a few glasses of champagne, audience members were invited to submit descriptions of their outfits to the evening’s MC (one of the actors from the show). The MC then called each wannabe fashion model up to the stage for a sashay down the runway. A panel of judges consisting of Jackson, Shotgun’s artistic director Patrick Dooley and the production’s costume designer Valera Coble then selected the prize winners. The contestants ranged from a middle-aged woman who flaunted the paradox of Berkeley living by waving the keys to her Prius in the air while caressing the neck of her real fur coat, to a young man in a fedora and sharp suit who called himself Derek Zoolander and proceeded to do an astute impression of the male model of the same name played by Ben Stiller in the fashion industry satire Zoolander.

If “Project Macway” didn’t quite see out 2008 with a bang, it at least provided a lighthearted, albeit slightly limp commentary on Jackson’s take on Shakespeare’s play. If only Shotgun had rustled up a parade of strapping, young Macbeth lookalikes strutting their stuff in sporrans and kilts. Then, I’m certain, the catwalk would have truly come to life.