First of all, I've got a new photo album up on my sidebar (with quotes!). Fringe photographer Scott Pakudiatis saw me at the end of fringe bash and very kindly gave me a CD filled with beautiful pictures he'd taken on our opening night. It turns out we never made it onto the fringe website because the three shows he photographed that night were ours, The Lesson, and We Make Porn Artsy and... the whole lot of us were spamblocked. Oh, well. I doubt it would have improved our audience turnout, which is all that really matters.
Let me get the shows I've seen out of the way. There was Glorious Noise (Rik's show), Hubcap Frisbee, I Voted for Gummi Bears, Serendipity, "Cliff Notes" for Dummies, Adventures in Mating, The President Once Removed, Varieties of Love, The Princeton Seventh, I'm Sorry and I'm Sorry, Charlie Bethel's Gilgamesh, and Please Don't Blow Up Mr. Boban. I've also seen parts of At Least One Shoe, Never Surrender's Greatest Adventures, Thirst, 9/11 Tranny, and Corleone. I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but I think I saw more shows in those 10 days than I have in the last 10 years. Los Angeles has the power to turn you off of live theatre. In Los Angeles most theatre is done with the intent of getting the actors cast in film or television. As a result the level of experimentation and production values are usually extremely low. Most of the plays are character heavy, wordy, realistic dramas or comedies. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Really. That's the kind of theatre I do, and it's great to act in those pieces when they're done well, but it doesn't make people excited about theatre and if you take out the live element of potential surprize and/or disaster, and the energy between the audience and performers,it could just as well be done on film. Again, I don't mean to belittle the energy factor, but I don't know if that interchange is quite enough to justify the continued existence of theatre to a country obsessed with film.
I did not see one bad show in the fringe. Yes, I chose carefully, but I chose carefully in LA and still saw a lot of crap. I teared up three times - in Rik's show, Please Don't Blow Up Mr. Boban, and Varieties of Love. The latter was really a rather mediocre dance performance. I saw it because it was a mix of good and bad dancers of several races and an age range of 5-70, including one elderly woman who had clearly had a stroke. The solo pieces were rather repetitive (another damn leap?) but the group dances were beautiful. It was really a life-affirming experience. Very Sesame Street and lovely. Rik's show was fantastic, but I'll leave it to his reviewers to speak about it (see the link above).
Four of the shows were solo pieces (if you include Rik's, which was originally a solo show, but the pianist became an active participant). I'm usually averse to solo shows; in the past many of the ones I've seen have been pretty masturbatory, but these were great. Allegra Lingo's Hubcap Frisbee was simply her reading a collection of beautiful personal essays on her experiences in Ireland. Charlie Bethel's Gilgamesh was a true, traditional storytelling piece. "Storytelling" reminds me of bad kids' theatre with an overexcited clownish figure condescendingly simplifying some old tale. But I saw it because I like Charlie and I'd heard great things. He told the story of Gilgamesh, an old Babylonian myth in a funny, engaging, vibrant and educational way that held me transfixed. I Voted For Gummi Bears was... well, I don't know if I'd classify it as a theatre piece; it was more like a really great college lecture (and I'm all for that) about the laws against felons voting in this country. It was intercut with footage of him talking to a childhood friend who was no longer allowed to vote in his state because he had received probation for being caught with two joints. (I'll probably write more about my disgust with drug laws at some point.)
"Cliff Notes" for Dummies was another dance piece - more professional and a lot of fun, especially the abridged Macbeth and the abridged story of Genesis, both performed to music and voice over. Adventures in Mating was an audience participation comedy piece where a messed up couple on a horrible first date has the audience decide on decisions from whether they should pursue marraige to what side order they should get with their meal. Very fun.
The President Once Removed was written by local hero Ari Hoptman, who also starred in The Princeton Seventh, written by James Vculek. The President... is about the assassination of president Garfield. Interesting and well done, but I was left wanting a little more. The Princeton Seventh was simply an excellent play - well-written, funny, and sad with a great twist. It was the only 90 minute show I saw (I've decided that having more short plays would encourage more people to see theatre - you don't get trapped in a two hour debacle if you don't like it).
And then there were three (sorry this has turned into a bit of a laundry list - I have to purge and I want to share - I'll get to the point soon). I'm Sorry and I'm Sorry was a two person tour-de-force with fantastic physical comedy, a lot of good dark humor, and phenomenal acting. I left the theatre high on the talent of the performers - two guys from Missoula who have trained all over. Serendipity was a true fringe show - video and live music and singing and intergalactic clowns. It was funny and sweet and wildly original and falls into the category of the play below, that is things that could only be performed as live theatre.
Finally, there was Please Don't Blow Up Mr. Boban. What can I say. I would still be excited about theatre if I hadn't seen this, but this show alone would have restored my faith in, and encouraged me to fight for, the existence of theatre in the U.S.. The script could probably use a little refining (or maybe I'm just not bright enough to figure it all out), but that's utterly beside the point. From the moment you step into the theatre (which wasn't really a theatre but an art gallery converted into an in-the-round space) the actors were playing around on stage and with the audience, while establishing the conventions of the set. From there on it was a roller coaster ride of dance, movement, fantastic character (and charicature) work, creative props, comedy, love, and propelling it all a story about the tragedy of war and the power of hope. I cannot begin to describe it on paper (or onscreen as it were), but if any of you see me in the near future I'll try to explain why it was so overwhelming. The play itself was great, but it was the performance that was unique. This could not have been done in a film. It made me want to do experimental theatre; it made me want to be a better actor, a better artist, a better participant in life, a better person.
[I've more or less avoided stretching myself as an actor. I'm admitting I have a problem. I'm not particularly funny or clever, I don't like embarrassing myself, and I don't like clowns. These are my excuses. But I do believe that if the body of the actor is his or her palette, he or she should have as many colors as possible at his or her disposal. I haven't done enough voice work, haven't been willing to truly use my body as an instrument of expression, haven't experienced true ensemble performance where each piece is an essential and equal part of the whole. I've settled into what I feel comfortable with - realistic performance with good interpretative skills. I know I'm at least okay at that. And in realistic pieces it can be enough. But it shouldn't be. I think it's time to branch out. ]
Theatre is the ultimate Buddhist art. All art, indeed everything, is transient, but we delude ourselves into thinking that celluloid will last, that paintings can be preserved, that music recorded is permanent. Theatre is special because it exists only in the moment in which artist meets audience. Some people dismiss it as a real "art" because of this characteristic, but if our experience of art is what makes it significant, then theatre is the purest art form. The experience is all there is. As I said, I'm a fan of well-written, well-acted linear theatre, but it does seem a shame to ignore what makes theatre great - the interaction between the audience and the performer. Acting is a rare art in that you can't do it - really - without an observer. Ignoring the observer seems counterproductive. The mere act of observation changes the nature of the observed, right? It also seems counterproductive to play to the suspension of disbelief. Movies do that much better than theatre ever could. Allowing the audience in on the symbolism, the imperfections of the props and scenery, is a much more communal and creative act. It also gives the audience permission to think, to interpret, rather than being told what is. For example, using potatoes as microphones was not only clever in Boban, it reminded the observers of the limited supplies of the cafe during wartime, the need to make do.
I know, I know, I'm babbling. I just finished my last day of teaching and take off on a long road trip in a few days and I wanted to place an entry on the litbitch before I go. I've started reading again, so this may soon reemerge as a literary blog. I don't have a laptop, so I probably won't be checking in for a few weeks, but picture me camping alone, driving through the midwest singing loudly in my truck and mooing at cows, swimming in unknown bodies of water, seeing a friend or three, and trying to remain in the moment in this bizarre, lovely, tragic life.
Recent Comments