17 March 2023

"Theater in rural Appalachian Virginia brings regional themes to the stage"

by Jeffrey Brown and Alison Thoet  

[Correspondent Jeffrey Brown and producer Alison Thoet’s report on the Barter Theatre in Abingdon, Virginia, and its Appalachian Festival of Plays and Playwrights aired on the PBS NewsHour on 14 March 2023 (Theater in rural Appalachian Virginia brings regional themes to the stage | PBS NewsHour).  Barter is the oldest existing professional theater in the United States.

[The theater is located within the Abingdon Historic District.  Abingdon, the county seat of Washington County, is a tiny town in southwest Virginia, founded in 1778.  It’s 133 miles southwest of Roanoke, 311 miles south-southwest of Richmond, and 363 miles southwest of Washington, D.C.  Nonetheless, regular patrons travel long distances to attend performances.

[The venerable theater’s history, based on its Wikipedia page, is as follows:

[Barter Theatre opened on 10 June 1933, when the United States was in the middle of the Great Depression. Its first production was the 1931 drama After Tomorrow by John Golden (1874-1955).  It played to full houses. 

[Many well-known stars of stage, screen, and television have performed early in their careers at Barter, including Gregory Peck, Ernest Borgnine, Patricia Neal, Ned Beatty, Hume Cronyn, Gary Collins, Frances Fisher, Larry Linville, John Glover, Jim Varney, and Wayne Knight.

[Beginning with “some twenty of his fellow actors,” Robert Porterfield (1905-71), founder of the theater, offered admission by letting the local people pay with food goods, hence the name “Barter.”  The original ticket price for a play was 40 cents, or the equivalent in goods.

[While remaining based in Abingdon, Barter Theatre has presented plays over a broad geographical area.  A September 1939 trip took the group to New York City, performing at the Heckscher Theater in East Harlem.  

[On three nights the troupe presented Lady Baltimore, Everywhere I Roam, and "a mountain version of Romeo and Juliet.”  In 1949, one of its companies produced Hamlet in Elsinore, Denmark.  That same year, it had a touring company that did one-night stands in localities in Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina.

[In 1993, the First Light Players were founded, a troupe within the Barter dedicated to theater for young audiences.  Today, they live on as the Barter Players, bringing live theater to young audiences across under-served regions in the South and East coast.

[Today, Barter is one of the last year-round professional resident repertory theaters remaining in the United States.  Each year in June, Barter Theatre celebrates its heritage with Barter Days.  For these performances, patrons are invited to barter for admission by bringing the equivalent amount of canned food.  All food is donated to a local charity.

[In 1946, Barter was designated as the State Theatre of Virginia and two years later, it won the Tony Regional Theatre Award.  The theater won the Business of the Year Award for the Tri-Cities, Virginia/Tennessee region in 2006 and in 2008, Barter was named Overall State Winner for Small Companies for The Torchbearer Award by the Virginia Chamber of Commerce.

[The AFPP was launched in 2000.  Six new Appalachian plays are chosen each year from the submissions to be given public readings by Barter’s company.  Plays must be written by an Appalachian playwright (currently living in a state that contains the Appalachian Mountain Range).  OR: The plays must be set in the Appalachian region. 

[Plays must be full length and must be unpublished and must not have had a full professional production.  The deadline for submission for the next (i.e., 2024) AFPP (dates to be determined) is 1 May 2023.  Send play and a brief synopsis to: apfestival@bartertheatre.com.  (A word to playwrights from a former dramaturg/literary manager: please follow Barter’s submission requirements and restrictions carefully.)]

Barter Theatre, which opened during the Great Depression and is thriving 90 years later, is known for bringing regional themes to its rural Appalachian stage. Jeffrey Brown visited Abingdon, Virginia, to show the changing face of the area for our arts and culture series, CANVAS.

Geoff Bennett: Barter Theatre, born out of the Depression, is thriving 90 years later, now known for bringing regional themes to its rural Appalachian stage.

Jeffrey Brown visited Abingdon, Virginia, to show the changing face of the area for our arts and culture series, Canvas.

Actress [in a scene on stage]: And I said, isn’t it tragic, Carla? He fell over on that big side.

Jeffrey Brown: A rehearsal of a new play about a group of women in a small factory town.

Actress: What’s so wrong with me, mama?

Jeffrey Brown: Experiencing loss and grief, friendship and family ties.

Audrey Cefaly, Playwright: Her volume and intensity there is just kind of way off the charts.

Jeffrey Brown: Playwright Audrey Cefaly.

Audrey Cefaly: What I am trying to do is to articulate without condescension the interior worlds of working-class people of this region.

There are a lot of preconceptions and myths and stereotypes out there. And I’m trying to dispel what I can with truthful characters from an honest perspective.

Jeffrey Brown: Cefaly’s play “Trouble (at the Vista View Mobile Home Estates)” was one of six featured this year at Barter Theatre’s annual Appalachian Festival of Plays and Playwrights [23-26 February 2023], which offers regional writers a chance to work with actors and directors to fine-tune their plays.

Actress: There’s no water here, because that’s fun. It’s so fun.

(LAUGHTER)

Jeffrey Brown: And to see how audiences respond during a staged reading here in one of Barter’s two theaters.

Audrey Cefaly: There’s something very singular about being among writers who are all focused and devoted to the same goal, which is to elevate voices in the region from whence they came.

Nick Piper, Associate Artistic Director, Barter Theatre: I think what it really is, is about our audience, to develop these plays for our audience, plays that reflect their lives, that reflect their values, or challenge those and explore them.

It is so good to see you all back here in person.

Jeffrey Brown: Barter’s associate artistic director, Nick Piper, is also director of the 23-year-old festival, an opportunity for local audiences to hear new stories and for regional writers to develop new work.

At least one of these plays will eventually receive a full production at Barter.

Nick Piper: That has the possibility of changing a playwright’s career and life.

Once it’s gotten to production at, like, a regional theater, a professional regional theater, other theaters throughout the country are looking at — we look at each other’s seasons and see what other theaters are choosing and what their audiences are interested in. And . . .

Jeffrey Brown: This is the ecosystem of theater in the U.S.

Nick Piper: This is it. It’s — that’s right.

Jeffrey Brown: Barter is located in Abingdon, a town of about 8,000 in the westernmost tip of Virginia, wedged between West Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina.

The theater has a special role in this region, according to Henry and Flora (phonetically) Joy, longtime supporters who drove an hour from home in Johnson City, Tennessee, to see the festival.

Henry Joy, Barter Theatre Patron: It’s not just an artistic magnet, but it’s an economic engine for not only Abingdon, in particular, but for the entire Southwest Virginia, East Tennessee region. It is the place to go.

Jeffrey Brown: It’s also filled with history, 90 years of it. Barter is one of the longest-running professional theaters in the U.S., founded during the Great Depression, when the price of a ticket was 40 cents, or a bartered equivalent in farm products, trading ham for “Hamlet.”

Founder Robert Porterfield managed to salvage equipment and furnishings, including these balcony seats, from a New York theater going out of business, in order to build his own gorgeous theater. He also brought in actors from New York and elsewhere. Which the theater still does.

And legends like Gregory Peck, Ernest Borgnine, and Patricia Neal have performed here as they were starting out. Today, the theater fuels the local economy through tourism, but also by employing actors, stagehands and craftspeople, all part of the local community.

Ketch Secor, Playwright: I have come to the greatest theater in the world, if you ask me.

Jeffrey Brown: And it’s continued to fuel the dreams of people like Ketch Secor, who grew up three hours away in Harrisonburg, Virginia.

“Hooten Holler,” the fable of a boy who saves country music, is Secor’s debut as a playwright. It’s a departure from his normal full-time gig as front man and fiddler of the Grammy Award-winning band Old Crow Medicine Show, and a chance to do a different kind of storytelling.

Ketch Secor: It’s the only way I can scratch the musical theater itch is by doing it, by writing it. I wanted to talk about the authenticity of the originators of country music.

You know, these hills, like, they’re alive with song. This landscape is a soulful place. So, it’s no surprise that so much of the music that has become country and rock ‘n’ roll comes from this place.

Jeffrey Brown: Barter, a historically white theater in a mostly white town, has also made a commitment to telling stories of Black Appalachia and promoting Black playwrights.

Actor: How did I, Henry Brown, escape the savagery of slavery?

Jeffrey Brown: “The Transported Man” was part of this year’s Appalachian Festival, written by Russell Nichols, who joined remotely, as actors gathered for their first rehearsal of the play.

Woman: Donovan (phonetically) and Gio (phonetically) are going to enter from house right.

Jeffrey Brown: It tells the story of Henry Box Brown, who shipped himself from slavery in Virginia to freedom in Pennsylvania.

Terrance Jackson, a longtime Barter actor who lives in the community, now oversees the theater’s Black Stories Black Voices initiative begun in 2022. He says things were different when he first came here 10 years ago from his native Florida.

Terrance Jackson, Director of Outreach, Barter Black Stories Black Voices: It was definitely difficult at first to try to find my place, you know, especially back when I first started. It was not a lot of people who looked like me were about in the community, and especially at the theater.

Jeffrey Brown: Jackson and others here are trying to change that through full-length plays, including at least one in the Appalachian Playwrights Festival, monologue nights, and community events focusing on Black stories.

Terrance Jackson: My dream for us at the theater is that no one will ever be shocked to see a Black person in the audience. No one will ever be shocked, including other Black people.

I want to be able to create a space where people feel comfortable at all times, whether they’re white, Black, anybody. I think it’s important because we need representation and we need our stories told.

Jeffrey Brown: For playwright Audrey Cefaly, the festival gave her a chance to represent the working-class people she grew up around in Northern Alabama.

Audrey Cefaly: Every writer that I know of that writes stories in this region is dying to have a space here. So, I feel very, very lucky to be here.

Jeffrey Brown: For his part, Ketch Secor adds this:

Ketch Secor: This is a big stop on the tour of what makes our country unique.

Actress: How do we feel about bourbon as a verb?

(LAUGHTER)

Jeffrey Brown: For the “PBS NewsHour,” I’m Jeffrey Brown at Barter Theatre in Abingdon, Virginia.

[In his more than 30-year career with the PBS NewsHour, Jeffrey Brown has served as co-anchor, studio moderator, and field reporter on a wide range of national and international issues, with work taking him around the country and to many parts of the globe. As arts correspondent he has profiled many of the world’s leading writers, musicians, actors, and other artists. 

[Among his signature works at the NewsHour: a multi-year series, “Culture at Risk,” about threatened cultural heritage in the United States and abroad; the creation of the NewsHour’s online “Art Beat”; and hosting the monthly book club, “Now Read This,” a collaboration with The New York Times.

[Alison Thoet is a writer and a CANVAS associate producer and national affairs associate producer at NewsHour.]


12 March 2023

"Elder Dramaturgy"

by Carlyle Brown 

[The website HowlRound (https://howlround.com/) states that it “is a free and open platform for theatremakers worldwide that amplifies progressive, disruptive ideas about the art form and facilitates connection between diverse practitioners.

[“We envision a theatre field where resources and power are shared equitably in all directions, contributing to a more just and sustainable world.”

[The site also asserts: “The article is just the start of the conversation—we want to know what you think about this subject, too!  HowlRound is a space for knowledge-sharing, and we welcome spirited, thoughtful, and on-topic dialogue (Comments Policy | HowlRound Theatre Commons).”

[“Elder Dramaturgy]” was posted on 7 March 2023 at Elder Dramaturgy | HowlRound Theatre Commons.]

The journey of the play We Take Care Of Our Own by Zainabu Jallo began in the Summer of 2018 when I convened four African and four African American playwrights for a monthlong residency of the experimental Cultural Diaspora Project at the Camargo Foundation [https://camargofoundation.org/programs/cultural-diaspora-program/] in the town of Cassis in the south of France to explore their craft, their voices, and their African-ness in a beautiful Mediterranean environment without the white, Western gaze. The project supports established and mid-career playwrights from the African Diaspora for whom their Afro-Atlantic identity is an influence and a factor in their craft, the content they create, their thinking, and their world view.

Zainabu Jallo was one of the African residents. A true child of the African Diaspora, born in Nigeria of a Nigerian father and a mother with Brazilian roots, she refers to herself as a rolling stone, living in different cities on different continents, calling five cities her home. She lives and actively participates in the here and there of a diasporic condition. A playwright, poet, and scholar with her doctoral research in the study of diasporic consciousness with a special interest in the intersections of theatre and spiritual performance, she is a poster child for what we are exploring in the Cultural Diaspora Project. In our initial engagement, as curator of the project, I asked Zainabu what would she be working on over the course of the residency. She answered that she intended to focus on her research. I responded impolitely and half kiddingly that we didn’t bring her to Camargo for research and contemplation, but to write. We were looking for our shared work to be the center of our conversations. Without any rebuttal Zainabu replied, “Oh, okay.” What I had not realized at the time was that in part her acquiescence to me was an African’s cultural deference to an elder; deference to my age.

The play that Ms. Jallo penned, We Take Care of Our Own, is a tale of migration and aging in the diaspora. Three elderly gentlemen in the twilight of their lives find themselves in a lavish nursing home somewhere in Europe poring over their existential anxieties. Moon-So, an eighty-nine-year-old South Korean filmmaker obsessed with his unfinished documentary on dragonflies; Youssouf, aged eighty-nine, an African astrophysicist waiting approval of the naming of a star he discovered, Khadidatou, after the only woman he had ever loved and left in his homeland of Touba; and Bajran, from the Balkans, a former chemist who worked in the Albert Hoffman lab synthesizing LSD and who now, at the age of ninety-one, wants to be baptized again. Away from family and homeland in their twilight years they are all wondering, how the hell did we get here? I was immediately attracted to this play, to its use of language—playful, poetic, percussive—its slightly heightened nature, all of which to my ear contributed to the African-ness of the play. It is the kind of play I like: theatrical, authentic, grounded in simplicity, its themes relevant, with something to say. It makes you think and causes you to wonder. It’s a good play.

The following summer, 2019, in partnership with the Camargo Foundation and the Playwrights’ Center of Minneapolis, I selected three plays from the summer before to be workshopped and have staged readings at the Playwrights’ Center in the first ever Afro-Atlantic Playwright Festival. One of the plays was We Take Care of Our Own and I was its director. The first and perhaps most singular challenge was casting this three-character play with age-appropriate actors. While memory wasn’t an issue in preparing for a script-in-hand reading, I wondered if we could find three ethnically distinct actors beyond their mid-seventies who were still working.

Locally we had Richard Ooms, who at seventy-seven years old at the time was perfect for Bajran, who is either Albanian or Kosovan. His acting career began at Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park in 1970. In 1971 he became a founding member of John Houseman’s the Acting Company and toured in repertory for eight seasons. He was a member of the Guthrie company from 1981 through 2013.

But for the characters Moon-So, Asian, and Youssouf, Black, there were no age-appropriate actors in the local pool in Minneapolis, so we cast nationally. From California we were grateful to enlist Adolphus Ward to play Youssouf. A stage actor for more than thirty years, Adolphus had been a frequent visitor to the Twin Cities, often playing the elderly gentlemen in August Wilson plays produced by Penumbra Theatre Company. The Japanese-American actor, Sab Shimono, also from California, came to read the South Korean character Moon-So. Sab’s experience ranged from Broadway and off-Broadway to regional theatres, a two-year residency with La MaMa, as well as film and television. Both Sab and Adolphus were in their eighties. They were an interesting group of actors to have in a room together.

The first collective realization in our first rehearsal was they all had been old guys in all sorts of plays, but never old guys in an old guy play. This realization brought to the surface the fact that, in America at any rate, narratives about the elderly where their concerns are center stage are rare. Perhaps they thought they had found age-appropriate roles to display their artistry. Perhaps they found a way to face old men’s fears of being forgotten. In rehearsing We Take Care of Our Own, the fiction and the reality faded into one. The characters and the actors shared the same existential anxieties, the frailness, the fragility, the uncertainly, the finality of growing old. On the other hand, old age acquires a wisdom that is wrought from having lived long enough to see how things have played out, and a watchful humbleness when you look around and see who’s left. From the first read through they knew the play completely and embraced the poetic, ethereal, comic, and tragic world of this play about three old men facing the inevitable abyss. Among them there was a comradery particular to old men sharing their ailments, their aches and pains, and confessing the mechanical replacements of their body parts, always with humor and true sincerity. They worked leisurely as if preparing to go the distance. Nothing was fraught or overstated. They acted with the confidence won from more than sixty years of stage time between them. A great cast and a great script, our staged reading was well received and confirmed what we had expected, that We Take Care of Our Own was a very effective, evocative, and moving piece of theatre.

The first Afro-Atlantic Playwright Festival was something of a success and as a result the Cultural Diaspora Playwright Project was invited to bring the three plays to New York University’s Tisch School of Drama to be performed by students and directed by alumni. The other two plays were Deux Femmes on the Edge de la Revolution Part 2, the second installment in France-Luce Benson’s epic historical trilogy of the Haitian Revolution, and Canoes by veteran Nigerian playwright Femi Osofisan, a study of three young Black women coming of age in Kwame Nkrumah’s newly independent Ghana who would become literary giants Efua Sutherland, Maryse Conde’, and Maya Angelou. The three young acting students who portrayed their elderly characters in We Take Care Of Our Own rendered the play well enough. Their director wisely discouraged them from acting old and to just do the scenes and reveal the play. They were fine young actors and they did a fine job, but just like the songs says, “Ain’t nothing like the real thing baby, ain’t nothing like the real thing.”

Somewhere in the next year, 2020, Adolphus Ward who played Youssouf passed on to the ancestors. On hearing that sad news, one could not help but note that his character, Youssouf, also passes away in the play.

In the interim I had received a Mellon Foundation National Playwright Residency Program fellowship with Illusion Theater in Minneapolis. In my statement of artistic intent, one of the things I proposed was to produce and direct We Take Care of Our Own. Producing directors Michael Robins and Bonnie Morris liked the idea. They liked the play. They wanted to have a public reading, but COVID was raging, so we did it online. Richard Ooms returned to us with his deep, resonant, baritone voice. Glenn Kubota who played Moon-So would come to us from California having played across mediums on stage and in film and television. And veteran actor Arthur French, an original founding member of the Negro Ensemble Company, played Youssouf. At eighty-nine years old, he was the same age as his character. I hadn’t prepared or really thought about how we would support an elder actor, much less an octogenarian, even though I was approaching that threshold myself, but Arthur had troubles with technology. Not only did he have troubles with technology, he had a fear of it that put him at an unhappy disadvantage and filled him with anxiety. He was home alone on his son’s computer. He lived with his son, but his son was at work when we worked and with the rest of us in California and Minneapolis, just talking heads on a computer screen, there was no direct way for us to help him. A consummate professional, Arthur became angry with himself, angry that he felt himself not prepared to do his job as an actor. The worst of it was when he couldn’t get his microphone to work. We somehow muddled through it. Arthur’s son, the playwright Arthur French III, took off from work to help his father with the technology and to put him at ease. In the end Arthur took on the character of Youssouf, the astrophysicist awash in technology, and rendered him with authenticity and depth. He lifted the character Youssouf off of the page and breathed him onto life in a play where his life is fading away. Four months later, on 24 July 2021, Arthur French himself, after suffering a stroke, in the uncontestable destiny of old men, faded away into the arms of heaven.

As we prepare for its premiere later this year in the fall of 2023 at Illusion Theater in Minneapolis, we are mindful and thoughtful of how to support our elderly actors: ear prompters, more rehearsal time, people to help them run their lines . . . understudies? Perhaps the work and doing what one loves is enough. To carry on to the very end a life of purpose. To use our art form to attempt to make sense of the incomprehensible.

I don’t quite know what to make of the journey of We Take Care of Our Own thus far, or how its author Zainabu Jallo at thirty-two years of age could possibly know such things, other than her own poetic and empathic imagination. “I have a specialty of love for the elderly,” she says, “old men especially,” as she demonstrates so clearly in her beautiful new play.

[Carlyle Brown (b. 1948) is the Playwright-in-Residence at Illusion Theater through the National Playwright Residency Program, funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation.]


07 March 2023

"Use of artificial intelligence generates questions about the future of art"

by Jeffrey Brown and Alison Thoet 

[The PBS NewsHour aired a feature on the broadcast of Thursday, 2 March, that reported on the latest incarnation of artificial intelligence.  Last Sunday, 5 March, Lesley Stahl presented a report on chatbots, AI programs that can write a human-sounding essay in less time that you and I can write a sentence.  All last month, there were reports on news programs and in newspapers covering the release of ChatGPT, a new, powerful chatbot.

[There are serious problems with the writing AI, more than the obvious issue of students and reporters and others who must write using the programs to do their work for them, and perhaps getting away with it.  The chatbots can get facts wrong—and, in effect, they can lie.

[The NewsHour report, however, is about AI in a different field: art.  We’ve seen stories of “art” purportedly created by infants or chimpanzees or even elephants, but those were usually gimmicks, even if they weren’t hoaxes.  Now we may see art become a field in which human artists have to compete with computers.

[Is it art if it’s created by a machine?  We’ve had computer art for a long time already, but that’s been artists using the computer as a tool in a sense, like a brush and palette or a camera.  The machine didn’t create, not on its own.  In the current instances, the artist is still the moving force in the art’s creation, but it seems to be a step closer to machine-generated work.  Is it a threat to artists or the art world?  We’ll have to see, I guess.

[I’ve posted a number of articles on Rick On Theater on the subject of computer technology, including AI, inching its way into the art of theater.  Some of it’s already obsolete—and the blog’s only going on 14 year old (on the 16th, as it happens).  Have a look at “Theater and Computers,” 5 December 2009; “‘A Guinea Pig’s Night at the Theater’” by Dave Itzkoff, 28 January 2013; “Technologies Old and New,” 9 March 2018; “Computers and Actors,” 4 and 7 October 2021; “‘Entertainment in the Age of AI,’” 22 August 2022.]

Artificial intelligence is everywhere and part of our conversations about education, politics and social media. It’s also a hot topic in the arts world as programs that generate art using AI are widely available to the public. But what goes into these programs, and the work that comes out, are heavily debated. Jeffrey Brown explores the influence of AI for our arts and culture series, CANVAS.

Amna Nawaz: Artificial intelligence, or A.I., is everywhere. It’s now part of our conversations about education and politics and social media. It’s also become a hot topic in the art world.

Programs that generate art using A.I. are widely available to the public and are skyrocketing in popularity. But what goes into these programs and the work that comes out are heavily debated in the arts community.

Jeffrey Brown explores the influence of A.I. on art, and where it may be headed next. It’s part of our arts and culture series, Canvas.

Jeffrey Brown: An enormous 40-by-14-foot screen, constantly morphing abstraction, created from some 35 million images of coral from around the world.

What are we looking at?

Refik Anadol, Artist: These are machines’ interpretation of millions of data of underwater.

Jeffrey Brown: It’s a kind of artificial reality, in the term of artist Refik Anadol, who calls this a data painting.

Refik Anadol: It’s in flux, doesn’t dry. The pigment is always in movement. The colors are changing.

Jeffrey Brown: The 37-year-old Turkish born artist in perpetual motion and overflowing with energy at the opening of a new exhibition of his work at the Jeffrey Deitch art gallery in Los Angeles, is at the leading edge of a growing artificial intelligence, or A.I., art revolution.

Refik Anadol: My primary material is data, the information, and my second material is a thinking brush that is assisted . . .

Jeffrey Brown: Thinking — a thinking brush?

Refik Anadol: Yes, that is assisted by artificial intelligence.

Jeffrey Brown: Anadol’s artworks are made in a Los Angeles studio in which computers, software programs, screens and a 3-D printer with a giant robotic arm replace more traditional artist’s materials.

Here, he and a team, including computer and data scientists, engineers, researchers, architects and designers, build enormous data sets requiring huge computing power — you can’t do this at home — and run them through or train A.I. programs they themselves have created.

The input can vary. Right now, at New York’s Museum of Modern Art, Anadol has created a piece titled Unsupervised created from images, research and other data from the museum’s entire archives. In another example back at his studio, the input is a whole lot of flowers.

This is your brush in this case.

Refik Anadol: Yes. It’s like with a game joystick.

So, what we are watching here is an A.I. that is trained on 75 million flowers.

Jeffrey Brown: Seventy-five million images of flowers.

Refik Anadol: Of flowers, exactly.

Jeffrey Brown: And then the A.I. . . .

(CROSSTALK)

Jeffrey Brown: . . . is making its own flowers.

Refik Anadol: Yes, exactly.

And — but to make it happen, it’s when and machine and human connection happens.

Jeffrey Brown: We’re not seeing real flowers here, but an artistic collaboration of machine and human.

Who is the artist?

Refik Anadol: Artist is still the artist. Like, human is the human there.

Jeffrey Brown: You are the artist?

Refik Anadol: Yes. But let’s also remember that it’s an — assisted by a machine, an A.I., an algorithm. And I think this is really inspiring to me, because that’s exactly where art, science and technology, a beautiful movement that I hope it’s inspiring. And it’s most likely our future, where we are more getting closer to machines every single day.

Jeffrey Brown: You refer constantly to the machine dreaming.

Refik Anadol: Yes.

Jeffrey Brown: Is the machine thinking too?

Refik Anadol: No, I don’t think machine is thinking. Machine is helping to think in a different way.

Jeffrey Brown: It’s the stuff of sci-fi, yes, but art and technology have been connected and debated forever, including in the early decades of photography.

Dhyandra Lawson is an assistant curator of contemporary art at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, known as LACMA.

Dhyandra Lawson, Los Angeles County Museum of Art: Photographs were dismissed and marginalized from fine art discourse. It’s because of the presence of the apparatus, the machine, the camera, right, which people had claimed, critics claimed, took away the artist’s special hand.

Jeffrey Brown: And the computer itself has been a fascination for artists for more than 50 years, made clear in a LACMA exhibition titled Coded: Art Enters the Computer Age, artists playing with the physical machine and exploring its ability, primitive compared to today, to generate images.

Coded brings the story up to 1982, the advent of the Internet age.

Dhyandra Lawson: What is new now I think is access.

Jeffrey Brown: Access, that is, for everyone, including to a new kind of artmaking on A.I.-generating apps available to the wider public, offered by companies such as Midjourney, DALL-E, Stable Diffusion, and a proliferation of others, which allow the artist in each of us to create an artwork through simple prompts.

It’s easy and fun, but has also raised a host of new questions. Last year, for example, an A.I.-generated work won a prize at the Colorado State Fair, outraging other contestants. And some artists, like Molly Crabapple, see another, more urgent threat.

Molly Crabapple, Artist and Author: I see a world where illustrators like me, people who make our living drawing pictures, are completely replaced by these apps because they can make images faster and cheaper than any human possibly can.

And, even worse than that, this generative A.I. was trained on our stolen images.

Jeffrey Brown: Crabapple is a New York-based artist and writer. Her critique? The new platforms build their businesses by scraping, or collecting, images and other data from the Internet, including works by artists and illustrators who aren’t credited or compensated.

And that, she says, is already changing the landscape for her community.

Molly Crabapple: There are companies that, even one year ago, were hiring artists to do book covers and creating beautiful book covers with those artists that are now making A.I. book covers.

Jeffrey Brown: In January, in fact, a group of artists filed a class action lawsuit now pending against several A.I. imagery generators, charging copyright violations.

I asked Crabapple, who’s not part of the suit, about A.I.’s lasting impact on the art world.

Molly Crabapple: Do I think that human creativity will be destroyed because there are these little image generators? No. People are creative.

However, do I think the lives of individual artists who are making their income will be destroyed if they no longer have work? Yes, of course I do.

Jeffrey Brown: Another concern in these early days of A.I. art suddenly being available to all, the images themselves, and how much they reflect the biases, or worse, of the Internet databases from where they have been obtained.

Curator Dhyandra Lawson counsels that consumers need to consider the source of the data being used to generate A.I. art.

Dhyandra Lawson: The things that we need to be aware of are, who and what is training the A.I.? What sort of data are they — is it using? Does the data perpetuate power dynamics and inequalities in our — in our lived experiences, in our real lives?

Jeffrey Brown: Artist Refik Anadol agrees with such concerns. His work, he points out, differs from widely available apps, in that he and his team generate their own data sets and take care with their sources, what is sometimes referred to as ethically sourced data.

He remains a big believer in the future of this technology. He’s convinced that the work going into his art, for example, the mapping of coral reefs, can help with environmental and a host of other big problems in the world.

But, he cautions:

Refik Anadol: We should think A.I. as a mirror. A.I. is a mirror, and this mirror can reflect whatever we are training. So, if we are aware of this mirror that reflects the information, I think we have more clarity.

It’s really on our hands to train this mind to dream what we want. It’s — the human intention is here. It’s not the A.I., I think, the issue.

Jeffrey Brown: The human, that is, is, for now, still the more complicated machine.

For the “PBS NewsHour,” I’m Jeffrey Brown in Los Angeles.

[In his more than 30-year career with the PBS NewsHour, Jeffrey Brown has served as co-anchor, studio moderator, and field reporter on a wide range of national and international issues, with work taking him around the country and to many parts of the globe. As arts correspondent he has profiled many of the world’s leading writers, musicians, actors, and other artists. 

[Among his signature works at the NewsHour: a multi-year series, “Culture at Risk,” about threatened cultural heritage in the United States and abroad; the creation of the NewsHour’s online “Art Beat”; and hosting the monthly book club, “Now Read This,” a collaboration with The New York Times.

[Alison Thoet is a writer and a CANVAS associate producer and national affairs associate producer at NewsHour.]


02 March 2023

Quirky Theater from Around the Country II

 

[This is my second installment of “Quirky Theater,” a selection of reviews from around the U.S. that cover what I feel are intriguing performances from some of the more adventurous troupes in different cities.

[As I explained in the first installment, I’m an associate member of the American Theatre Critics Association and I get its monthly e-mail newsletter, The Update.  One section is called “This Just In,” a list of links to reviews and articles by ATCA members from their base publications.

[I always glance at them, and recently, I kept aside several of the notices that just looked interesting.  I posted several on 25 February, and I’m taking this opportunity to post some more of the reviews to show what’s going on in some of the theaters across this country.  See what you all think.] 

“THE POLITICAL IS PERSONAL”
by Kerry Reid 

[Kerry Reid’s review of a new show by the renowned Second City comedy troupe ran in the Chicago Reader of 15 June 2022.  The Reader is an alternative weekly newspaper noted for its coverage of the arts, particularly film and theater.]

Second City’s new mainstage revue triumphs by centering people over polemics.

Like the rest of the world, Second City has been through its share of upheavals in the past two years. Longtime owner, CEO, and executive producer Andrew Alexander stepped down in June 2020 in the wake of increasing public allegations about institutional racism at the comedy powerhouse. Anthony LeBlanc stepped in as interim executive director, followed by Jon Carr, a veteran of theater and improv comedy in Atlanta, who came on board in December 2020. Then Carr stepped down earlier this year. Meantime, the company itself was bought by a private equity firm, and the instructors at the Second City Training Center in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Toronto have all been fighting for union representation.

And that’s not taking into account everything happening outside Second City’s doors: a pandemic, a failed domestic insurrection, the Russian war on Ukraine, and courts and legislatures across the U.S. seemingly bent on rolling us right back to the 1850s.

What’s remarkable about Second City’s latest mainstage offering, Do the Right Thing, No Worries If Not, is that it ignores almost all of that. And I gotta say, I think that’s a good thing. We know things are terrible. Does anyone really need to pay Second City prices to hear the same commentary we can find dished out for free on late-night television (or in the current January 6 hearings)?

But that’s not to say that the 110th revue, directed by Jen Ellison in her mainstage debut, is lacking in politics. By virtue of the diversity of the cast and the way their intersecting identities are dissected, sent up, and ultimately celebrated, this show tells us that the very act of unapologetically being who you are is a big political statement. And one that is absolutely essential to the survival of the species.

And as the title tells us, adjusting to each other with grace is also a political act. We’re going to fuck up. The big question is if we’re willing to listen and learn—which, as the “yes, and” gurus have been telling us for a minute, is one of the reasons improv can change your life.

[Second City, for those who don't already know, is an improvisational comedy troupe.  “Yes, and” is a fundamental notion of improv theater.  In my post “How to be the Greatest Improviser on Earth” (10 January 2017), described this technique: “. . . first you must mentally accept and agree with what your scene partner says [the “yes”].  It becomes an established element of the world the two or more of you are creating.  From there, you build upon the idea by adding details of your own [the “and”] . . . .”]

In 2018’s Algorithm Nation or the Static Quo, Second City’s 107th revue, the company leaned hard into darkness with scenes involving gunshots and an over-the-top parody of a female Trump supporter. But as Brianna Wellen noted in her Reader review (where she quoted former Second City cast member Tawny Newsome’s observation that women were required to wear dresses onstage as recently as 2012), “when there are so many other progressive and innovative shows happening in the city, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to see where a theater that wanted to keep women in dresses fits in.”

In Do the Right Thing, the cast seemingly wears whatever the hell they want. And they’re unafraid of crafting vignettes that delve right into the heart of identity. 

So for example, we have a brilliant scene set at Dick’s Last Resort, where Claire McFadden’s waitron hands out obscene nicknames at a birthday party for 12-year-olds. But when informed that one of the guests, played by nonbinary actor Kiley Fitzgerald, uses they/them pronouns, McFadden’s character falls apart in a spectacularly cringeworthy display of liberal self-recrimination. When she tries to hand Fitzgerald’s character a name tag reading “HERO,” Fitzgerald tries to explain that they don’t want to be called a hero; they just want to live their life enjoying the same things everyone else gets. Including name tags reading “BIG SLUT.”

In an audience participation call-and-response musical segment, Evan Mills (the sole returning mainstage performer from previous revues, and the co-creator/co-director of Queer Eye: The Musical Parody now running at Second City’s UP Comedy Club [the venue for stand-up comedy]) asks us to raise our hand if we’re from various states, if we’re single, etc. (He also acknowledges the zeitgeist with “Raise your hand if the news is hard to read,” and “Raise your hand if you think the world is ending.”) Finally he whittles the demographics down to “Raise your hand if you’re from Michigan, half Filipino, queer with a gay dad, and left-handed. [Pause.] Yeah, I thought I might lose some of you on that one.”

But in addition to the performers embracing their individuality, there is a theme of duality running through the show as well, shored up by the title’s implication that we’re all a combination of our best impulses and our worst. Literal twins are onstage in a sketch where McFadden as an ob-gyn shrinks herself down, a la the 1966 sci-fi film Fantastic Voyage, and is projected into the uterus of expectant mom Julia Morales, just to make sure the babies are chill and relaxed. (Fitzgerald also plays an ob-gyn in a later sketch—but they’re a dinosaur and their tiny arms just aren’t ideal for manipulating a speculum.)

Sometimes that duality comes out in observational humor on race. Morales and E.J. Cameron are the proprietors of “Blackbuster”—a retro video rental store whose motto is “For every white movie, there’s a Black movie as good or better!” So if you want The Wizard of Oz, you get The Wiz. If you want Edward Scissorhands, you get Barbershop. If you want Forrest Gump, you get . . . Radio (though Cameron has to blow the dust off that one). Morales and Cameron are also standouts in an office sketch where they have to code-switch with their white boss, played by Andy Bolduc with a hearty air of gormless bonhomie. (Product shout-outs to LaCroix—pamplemousse flavor, especially—and Patagonia apparently are the lingua franca for talking to white people.)

Ellison, her cast, and musical director Jeff Bouthiette have built a show that isn’t trying to impress us with faux-edginess. Instead, it’s a thoughtful and often sweet showcase for actors who exhibit a great combination of complementary skills, and who work together with seemingly seamless generosity. A late-night car scene between longtime friends McFadden and Bolduc, where they both finally start coming clean about their mutual attraction while role-playing cockney chauffeur and upper-class Brit boss, is a lovely mini-play. A first-act closing scene pays homage to high school detention, a la The Breakfast Club, but with a surprising and poignant reveal.

It’s also hard to ignore the physical comedy chops of this cast, especially Mills, whose rubbery physique and mobile facial expressions remind me of a silent-film comedian, and Fitzgerald, who, in addition to their hilarious dinosaur doctor, turns a disquisition on fatphobia triggered by their “breaking” a chair into an increasingly chaotic and hilarious aria of grievances while wriggling all over the stage. 

Speaking of wriggling: In a second-act musical number, McFadden takes on the persona of a French chanteuse, crooning a song about how good life can be. Soon we find out that she’s an earthworm. And she’s cut in half when rain sweeps her onto the sidewalk. But duality again saves the day; Mills’s earthworm finds and recombines with her, and life goes on. If earthworms can patch things up and keep going in the face of a storm, surely we can, too.

[Do the Right Thing, No Worries If Not opened on 8 June 2022 at Second City’s mainstage and is still running (through 19 March).]

*  *  *  *
“OUT OF THIS WORLD FUN”
by Kerry Reid 

[My second selection is also from the Chicago Reader and also from Reid.  The notice of a “goofy” show from Chicago Shakespeare Theater ran on 6 July 2022.]

Chicago Shakes shows us a good way to feel alienated in It Came From Outer Space.

Last year, Chicago Shakespeare offered We Are Out There, a digital sneak peek of Joe Kinosian and Kellen Blair’s goofy musical adaptation of the 1953 Universal Pictures sci-fi film, It Came From Outer Space, which was itself based on an original story by Ray Bradbury. Now it’s finally onstage at Chicago Shakes’s cozy upstairs studio space in a production that’s loaded with groanworthy jokes (including a long setup to a Bradbury shout-out), cheesy effects, and everything else you need for the live theatrical equivalent of a retro night at a drive-in. (Well, no popcorn inside the theater.) 

The story follows John Putnam (Christopher Kale Jones), a wannabe “astronomer-astrologer” who is convinced that aliens have landed near tiny Sand Rock, Arizona (a town whose main attraction is a sand museum). Because John is an annoying know-it-all, no one believes him, except for his schoolteacher girlfriend, Ellen (Jaye Ladymore), who is also the object of affection of the surly and not-so-bright Sheriff Matt (Alex Goodrich). But then the townspeople start acting really weird. 

With a spritely score, clever direction by Laura Braza, cunning sets, lights, costumes, video, and sound design (by Scott Davis, Heather Sparling, Mieka van der Ploeg, Rasean Davonté Johnson, and Nicholas Pope, respectively), and a skosh of social commentary (we fear the “other” before we really try to understand them), it’s an absolute toothsome delight start to finish. The entire ensemble (most of whom play multiple roles) is pitch-perfect, including Jonathan Butler-Duplessis as everything from a verbose telephone lineman to Coral, the barfly/confidante for Ellen who blows the roof off during “I Can’t Figure Out Men”; Sharriese Y. Hamilton as the energetic local muckraker; and Ann Delaney as a daffy old woman and as one of the aliens, who achieves maximum expressiveness with her tentacle appendages.

[It Came From Outer Space ran through 31 August 2022 at Chicago Shakespeare Theater.]

*  *  *  *
“RICKY 3’S HIP-HOP SPIN ON SHAKESPEARE”
by Lou Harry 

[Lou Harry’s review of a hip-hop Richard III ran in the Indianapolis Monthly on 18 July 2022.  The Indianapolis Monthly is a lifestyle magazine published in Indianapolis.]

This month, a local Shakespeare company stages a hip-hop version of Richard III at the Taggart Memorial Amphitheatre—a treatment almost as new as the venue.

Indy Shakespeare Company artistic director Ryan Artzberger admits that fusing Shakespeare with hip-hop is not a completely original idea, pointing to shows such as The Bomb-itty of Errors and the UK’s on-the-nose-named Hip-hop Shakespeare Company. “But all of those are really adaptations,” he says. “I’m interested in the correlation between Shakespeare’s actual text and hip-hop beats.” That interest sparked the development of Ricky 3: A Hip-Hop Shakespeare Richard III, which the ISC will stage July 21-30.

The company has made a home for itself at Riverside Park’s Taggart Memorial Amphitheatre, which recently underwent renovations thanks to a $9.2 million grant from the Lilly Endowment. The amphitheater is part of a larger $120 million Riverside Regional Park Master Plan, which organizers hope will help revitalize the surrounding neighborhood that has seen years of disinvestment. Ricky 3 promises to be one of the higher-profile productions there this summer.

“We’re cutting and trimming,” says the play’s director, Mikael Burke, a Butler grad who made a splash in Chicago before returning to direct at the Indiana Repertory Theatre. “But we’re staying as true to Shakespeare as possible.”

At least in the text. “We’re leaning into an Afro-futurist aesthetic,” he says, “creating a world where hip-hop can be an authentic representation of the culture.”

Ricky 3 is a dramatic change for the company, whose shows have been fairly traditional since it started offering free Shakespeare to crowds in 2008. The idea of colliding modern sounds with classic text has been nudging Artzberger for years. He first experimented with the hip-hopification of the Bard while teaching at the IRT’s conservatory, where he guided students through the sonnets by giving them a beat. “It helped them knock down the wall of perception that it’s an old and dusty thing. Putting a rhythm in your body helps you get out of your head.”

But would that work as a full play? A series of conversations exploring those ideas with Burke and other local artists led to Bale Boy Geechie, a producer at CityDumpRecords who became the show’s composer. “I like to think I’m heading toward expertise in theater, but I’m by no means an expert in hip-hop,” says Burke. “Geechie is exactly that. I knew we’d get to learn from one another.”

With all of Shakespeare to choose from, why pick Richard III, the story of one man’s vicious rise to the top of the royalty food chain? For one thing, the creators saw a connection between King Richard’s talent for wielding words and a rapper’s ability to do the same. But they concede that, rather than being the result of a lot of debate, it just felt right. “‘Now is the winter of our discontent’ just makes more sense when you hear it to a beat,” Artzberger says. 

*  *  *  *
“ESSENTIAL PLAY FEST’S ‘OUTRAGE MACHINE’ HAS GROWN MORE TOPICAL IN WAKE OF COVID”
by Benjamin Carr 

[Benjamin Carr posted his review of the delayed première of a new play on the Atlanta website ArtsATL on 29 July 2022.  ArtsATL was founded to provide comprehensive coverage of the arts in metropolitan Atlanta.]

Playwright Daniel Carter Brown crafted a timely, urgent work with his script The Outrage Machine, which was set for its world premiere with the Essential Theatre Play Festival in 2020. [The Essential Theatre is an Atlanta troupe.] Then, the pandemic delayed his production for two years.

The play opens on Friday night, and Brown is excited for audiences to finally see it.

“When the show got canceled because of Covid in 2020, artistic director Peter Hardy told me the intention was to produce the play whenever it was safe to open again, and I didn’t know what that meant,” Brown said. “I assumed it meant that one year they’d do two festivals to make up the missing one or they’d work in a weekend somewhere. I was expecting to get, in some way, less than the Essential Festival. And I didn’t hear anything for a while and thought it was possible I’d been forgotten about.”

When John Mabey’s play A Complicated Hope was announced as the 2022 festival prize winner, Brown received an email, though, proposing that the two shows could run in repertory until August 28 [2022].

The Outrage Machine centers on Rina, played by Hannah Morris, a young woman in an unspecified city who drives for a rideshare company. She gets a new freelance gig crafting catchy, shocking headlines — and only the headlines — for a news website looking to drive up traffic. Her grasp of eye-catching clickbait, eventually, puts Rina and her sister Ellie (Ellie Styron), at the center of a political firestorm while Rina is still driving around rideshare customers.

Brown said the first draft of the script he wrote was in 2015, when he noticed how people were consuming misleading news through social media.

“I sensed a growing awareness of the problem of irresponsible journalism online and maliciously irresponsible journalism,” the playwright said. “It was an idea that wasn’t talked about much, at least where I was reading. And then 2016 happened, and it became what everybody was talking about because it was impacting all of us.”

Reality had started to mirror satire.

“This fringe issue was no longer a fringe issue, so my next draft of this script after the dust settled was a version that didn’t have to introduce the idea that it was an issue,” he said. “I needed to go deep into how it happens and get into the heads of the people who are creating these headlines. And ultimately the story shows how someone with good intentions even ends up doing the same thing.”

The delayed production hasn’t forced much to change in his script, aside from some details, including a reference to the former Washington Redskins — now renamed the Commanders.

Also, one of Brown’s characters is germophobic, yet that detail has to be illustrated differently since the pandemic.

“Carrying hand sanitizer in your purse is no longer a character trait, it’s just something that we all do,” he said.

Another moment resonated differently for him in 2022 than it did when he wrote it.

“One thing that’s really fun is that we’re in the midst of all this fallout and investigation of January 6, and there’s a moment in the script that wasn’t written in response to that but feels like it was,” Brown said.

The production features nine actors portraying 20 characters, many of them rideshare passengers in Rina’s car. Brown drove for Uber several years ago, and he used moments from his own work experience to flesh out the script.

He said that one aspect of the show of which he’s proudest is that most of the characters can be played by any performer. He avoided pronouns and used gender-neutral character names.

“I wrote all the ensemble roles to be played by any gender without having to change the script, so if you see the next production of The Outrage Machine, Blair Weeks may be played by a man or a non-binary person,” said Brown, who has directed and produced at Onion Man, Academy, Onstage Atlanta and Out of Box theaters. “My background as a director and producer informs my writing, in that I can make writing decisions that make my play easier to produce. So if a casting pool at a college has 20 women auditioning and three dudes, the play is still doable. It also opens up opportunities for non-binary performers.”

That open casting approach also changes power dynamics in how certain scenes in the script play. But that doesn’t affect the underlying theme of The Outrage Machine.

“The overall message doesn’t change because this impacts all of us,” he said. “We all have some level of engagement with modern-day news sources and fake news sources and intentionally satirical sources that some people don’t realize are meant to be satirical. Because the message of the play is about American society and humanity at large, the message works no matter what the demographics and gender dynamics onstage are.”

As divided as the country is, Brown said he has created a play that he hopes appeals to both sides of the political spectrum.

“With each draft of this play, as the world changes, I want this play to be enjoyed by conservatives,” he said. “I want them to not feel like they’re being attacked. We all need to work on this. This impacts all of us. Picking examples of things that everybody gets wrong, all over the political spectrum, is important for this piece. It’s very political. I think it’s a moderate play, but the moderate line has moved drastically in past years.”

Brown hopes the work leads the audience to better consider who delivers their news to them. He aimed to critique the echo chamber that social media becomes when consumers only surround themselves with like-minded voices.

“It’s easy to see that the other side has this problem,” he said. “It’s harder to see that we all have this problem. When we read something that confirms what we want to believe, we don’t question it. And so I want the audience to develop that awareness, that it’s worth taking a moment to question who your sources are and who your source’s sources are.”

[Benjamin Carr, a member of the American Theatre Critics Association, is an arts journalist and critic who has contributed to ArtsATL since 2019.  His plays have been produced at The Vineyard Theatre in Manhattan, as part of the Samuel French Off-Off Broadway Short Play Festival, and the Center for Puppetry Arts.  His novel Impacted was published by The Story Plant in 2021.]

*  *  *  *
“PICK! ASR THEATER — BIG FUN IN CHINATOWN: ‘THE EMPIRE STRIPS BACK’”
by Barry Willis 

[The website Aisle Seat Review (Menifee, CA) published Barry Willis’s review of what he called an “audacious” piece of theater from San Francisco on 4 August 2022.  ASR covers theater, opera, ballet, music performance, movies, art, and writing in Northern California as well as the great Inland Northwest region.]

San Francisco has a long strong history of audacious theatricality.

Home-grown dazzlers include The Cockettes, The Tubes, Beach Blanket Babylon, and Teatro ZinZanni. Add to this list two or three annual performances of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” periodic revivals of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” an occasional over-the-top production of “Cabaret” (SF Playhouse, summer 2019) and hilarious touring shows such as “Head Over Heels” that rocked the Curran in spring 2018.

At Chinatown’s Great Star Theater through October 2 [2022], “The Empire Strips Back” is very much in this tradition. The show originated in 2011 for a three-evening run in Sydney, Australia and became a national hit, touring Down Under for years before it went global.

Billed as “a parody of Star Wars,” the show is more a Star Wars-themed spoof, with dancers assuming the guises of many Star Wars characters and the stage filled with props from the long-running film franchise. The lack of a through-line doesn’t tarnish the production, a music-and-dance revue that in classic burlesque style features a comic emcee who keeps the audience laughing while stagehands scramble behind the curtain, prepping for the next act.

Old-time burlesque featured not only a comic emcee, but jugglers, clowns, and assorted other diversions between the real attractions: scantily clad female dancers, with which the Great Star is abundantly supplied. Jugglers and clowns are notably absent, unless you count a twerking Chewbacca late in the second act.

In a pale blue “Lando Calrissian” cape, Oakland comedian Kevin Newton serves amiably as emcee, with perfectly paced commentary on everything happening onstage and in the audience—a full house on opening night, and a rowdy one too. Who knew that San Francisco still had so many heterosexuals?

The show’s dancers are talented, gorgeous, and aggressive, with moves that encompass every dance genre from the early ‘60s to the hip-hop present. Erin Vander Haar is a standout, a superb performer with a compelling ability to flirt with her audience. The show’s pop music also encompasses the past 60-some years, going as far back as the Spencer Davis Group and into the contemporary era with pieces like “Seven Nation Army.”

Musically, and choreographically, there’s something for everyone in this show, but it’s geared for a young, contemporary crowd—especially those steeped in Star Wars lore, pretty much a definition of everyone born after 1965. Newton generates plenty of laughs with cult-insider humor.

Dance segments are outrageously delightful, such as one that liberally quotes the famous hair-slinging scene in the film “Flashdance,” done here atop Luke Skywalker’s hovercraft. As big as a dump truck, Jabba the Hutt appears onstage with dancers cavorting around and on him. Whether solo, duets, trios, or ensemble, the dance troupe is phenomenal. Stagecraft varies from amateurish to astounding.

Takeaway: “The Empire Strips Back” is as far from serious theater as we can get, and what a welcome departure it is. We have to go back to “Head Over Heels,” more than four years ago, to remember a show where the audience sang along and afterward lingered on the sidewalk out front as if they didn’t want to leave. It’s probably some of the most fun you’ll have in a SF theater all summer long.

[Aisle Seat Review NorCal Executive Editor Barry Willis is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association and president of the San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle.]

*  *  *  *
“THEATRE REVIEW: ‘FIREBRINGER: A NEW STONE-AGE MUSICAL’ AT DOMINION STAGE”
by Jeannette Mulherin 

[MD Theatre Guide, a Baltimore-based website, ran Jeannette Mulherin’s notice for “a new Stone-Age musical” on 24 August 2022.  MDTG is an online performing-arts news magazine covering theater, music, and dance in the Maryland; Washington, DC; and Northern Virginia areas.]

‘Firebringer: A New Stone-Age Musical’ is a laugh-out-loud reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Directed by Michael Page with musical direction by Chad Rabago, ‘Firebringer’ is as much a commentary on contemporary life as it is a humorous look at humanity’s first attempts to organize itself. 

When we stumble on these early Homo sapiens, their leader, Jemilla (Jessi Scott), has gained the title “Peacemaker” because she was able to resolve an on-going conflict between tribe members Smelly-Balls (Glenn Williams) and Chorn (Edward “Teddy” Nagel). Following a blessing from the Almighty Duck, Jemilla speaks with the tribe’s former leader, Molag (Melanie McGuin), who admits she invented the group’s belief system to better control them. Jemilla is shocked when Molag tells her that Almighty Duck is not a deity and Tiblyn’s (Sara Alipanah) years of holding up the world with her bare hands has been completely unnecessary.

As the story unfolds, Schwoopsie (Erin Kemp), the inventor of comedy tells her one joke, and Emberley (Melanie Kurstin) befriends an outsider named Grunt (Cameron Powell) who is promptly chased away by the group. Jemilla announces that the duck is not divine, and Tiblyn can drop her arms without the sky falling in and killing them all. Ducker, the Duck’s vicar on earth, (Ryan Washington) is outraged at the loss of his privileged status, and Tiblyn, the loss of her life’s purpose.

Most importantly, Zazzalil (Lindsey Capuno) invents the spear, and Jemilla and the tribe declare the invention worthless, turning on Zazzalil. In a fit of frustration, Zazzalil leaves the cave in the dark of night to prove the spear’s value, accidentally inventing fire at the same time. Zazzalil exploits the tribe’s amazement at this new creation to convince them to banish Jemilla and make her the group’s new leader.

When Act II opens, the tribe is enjoying the benefits of fire but also coming to see the drawbacks, Jemilla is enjoying herself in exile as she is now the leader of a new tribe full of beautiful people, and Duck attempts to reclaim his priestly power by announcing that he can interpret Fire’s wishes. Grunt reappears before being snatched by the bloodthirsty Smilodon, Snarl. Unfortunately for Grunt, the flame has gone out and the tribe is again without fire.

Fire or no fire, the tribe decides to rescue Grunt. They try scaring Snarl with a picture of fire etched on a stone. When this fails, they attempt to stab Snarl with spears and miss, but through a lucky twist, create fire again by rubbing together the stones on their spears. They set Snarl on fire, killing him and saving Grunt. In a final surprise, Chorn announces he is an alien, takes credit for the existence of fire, and shares his knowledge of humanity’s future with the tribe.  

The cast demonstrated an immense amount of vocal talent as well as a gift for comic timing. Notable performances included Emberly and Grunt’s duet, “Just a Taste,”  Zazzalil and Jemilla’s “Together,” and Chorn’s “Chorn.”  High energy ensemble pieces included “Fire,” “The Night Belongs to Us,” and “Ouch, My Butt.”

From the bone in Zazzalil’s hair to Chom’s purple glow-in-the dark sneakers, costume designer Larissa Norris’s creativity and attention to the smallest details played a significant role in the show’s success. Set designer Alex Bryce created an environment true to stone-age fashion that consisted primarily of rock groupings, and puppet maker Maria Littlefield contributed a memorable woolly mammoth as well as a larger-than-life Snarl.   

If you missed “Firebringer,” Dominion Stage’s 73rd season has just begun with a selection of must-see productions!

[Firebringer’s running time was two hours and 35 minutes, including one 15-minute intermission.  It ran through 20 August 2022, presented by Dominion Stage at Gunston Theatre Two in Arlington, Virginia.

[A native northern New Yorker, Jeannette Mulherin has a fondness for used books, off-the-beaten-path travel, and of course, live theatre.  She earned a master’s degree from Georgetown University and an undergraduate degree from the Peabody Conservatory of Music in Baltimore.  She’s currently pursuing a Ph.D. at George Mason University in the Writing and Rhetoric program.  Mulherin is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association.]