Play With Fire

Burlesque as a tradition of performance has a history that stems back to the legacy of music hall and vaudeville shows and evokes memories of such performers as Gypsy Rose Lee and Fanny Brice. The variety show, a once standard and well-loved style of artistic presentation, was marked by “comic effects, erotic stimulation, or imaginative astonishment”. (Marinetti, 421) A pastiche of musical numbers, spectacle and circus acts, exotic dancers and any number of other niche routines were ushered on and off the stage in a wonderfully irreverent amalgamation of the beautiful and the grotesque. The contemporary theatre, or sphere of performance art as a whole, however, seems to have veered away from this longstanding tradition in favour of a (very generally) much more naturalistic and narrative-heavy aesthetic. Although we may fancy ourselves a more progressive and liberal generation that those of the early 20th century that gave birth to the burlesque and variety traditions, we seem to have effectively quelled the impulse to examine the marginal and extraordinary that these forms celebrated.
The question stands, then, whether or not burlesque and the variety show still have a place in today’s theatrical spectrum. A relatively small and underground community that has re-emerged and thrived over the last several years, especially in New York City, would suggest that they do. Currently celebrating its one- year anniversary, The Sunday Show at the Lower East Side’s burlesque haven, The Slipper Room, has worked to create (and made tremendous headway in doing so) “a censorship-free monthly exposition of performance artists which aims to sharpen the lost edge of Lower Manhattan’s underground art and music scene in the form of an unpredictable variety show.” (About…) Created and hosted by Kiki Valentine, The Sunday Show brings together a diverse cast of performers who represent a range of talents from fire swallowing, knife juggling, strip-tease, fan dancing and more. One such staple performer at the Slipper Room every month is Justina Flash, a hula-hoop burlesque dancer and fire specialist. It should be noted that (as the author of this analysis) I have the privilege of living with Justina Flash and knowing her intimately as both person and performer, which has offered me a unique perspective on the nature and intention of her work.
In his essay 1913 “The Variety Theatre”, Filippo Tommaso Marinetti outlines essential elements of the variety show of his time that remain completely applicable to Justina Flash’s performance at the November installation of The Sunday Show and to contemporary burlesque. The emcee comes onstage, scantily clad in a sequined and beaded brassiere and briefs, a headdress and braids; ironic and somewhat disdainful homage to Native Americans, the theme of this month’s show being “Thanksgiving on the Lower East Side”. At once, Marinetti’s “powerful caricatures…abysses of the ridiculous…delicious, impalpable ironies…all-embracing definitive symbols” are brought to mind as she introduces the opening act. (Marinetti, 421) She says that this Thanksgiving, Justina Flash is thankful for love and for danger, winks, manually draws the curtain on the tiny proscenium stage, and exits as the routine begins. The song “Lovefool” (by The Cardigans) begins to play and Justina turns to face the audience, framed by her already ablaze hula-hoop and blows a kiss to all of the faces hidden in the otherwise dark and dingy room, a definite scent of alcohol and clinking of glasses and bottles underscoring the coy air with which she greets her spectators and lowers her prop around her tiny waist and begins to spin.

To give a descriptive account of the beginning of her routine calls to mind certain notions of familiar ritual that can be identified even by an inexperienced onlooker. The imagery of the bawdy host(ess) and the exaggeratedly made-up performer, the anticipation of some risqué revelation in tandem with the physically dirty performance space is well-known to many individuals who have a familiarity with the cinema or with the area of popular culture that can be exemplified by works such as Kander and Ebb’s infamous musical Cabaret. This type of performance is inherently nostalgic at first glance in a modern context, despite Marinetti’s insistence that is “born…from electricity, is lucky in having no tradition, no masters, no dogma”. (Marinetti, 421) Although Justina Flash’s performance is very much of the moment in which it occurs, its roots are not unfamiliar: the spectator expects unusual talent, the removal of clothing, the closing of the musky curtain in completion, and that is what they get. It is also true, however, that burlesque is bound up in so much intention and implications about the body as a social and political object and subject.
Justina’s performance could indeed be classified as spectacle based and exhibitionistic, but what is important to understand is that it is also very conscientiously an act of subversion that trumps any assumptions of base behaviour for the sake of base behaviour. Burlesque, while highlighting the female body that is absolutely sexual, works also to undo conventions of gender and sexuality. Judith Butler provides a helpful means by which this assertion can be expanded upon through the lens of the drag act, which is actually quite similar in nature to the burlesque act. One could even argue that burlesque and strip-tease are themselves forms of drag as Butler describes it. She asserts: “In imitating gender, drag implicitly reveals the imitative structure of gender itself – as well as its contingency”. (Butler, 75) Justina’s costume is absolutely performative of the objectified female: a partial corset, a black lace brassiere and matching tutu. She wears a great deal of make-up that accentuates her eyes and lips, hyper-erogenous aspects of the face. Her legs are bare and amplified by high heels. When she slowly and teasingly removes the brassiere, a cascade of pink rose petals fall to the floor and in place of pasties are more petals framing her nipples, an ingeniously obvious image of stereotypical femininity if not specifically female innocence, an ironic nod to the act of stripping itself. All of this she circumscribes with her burning hula-hoop, which inherently necessitate both sensual movement and danger. The synthesis of all of these elements amounts not simply to a woman exposing herself to a crowd, but to an individual imitating and mocking the idea of “gender” as it has been constructed by society, as Butler suggests: Justina’s act observes, interprets, imitates and disembowels. By (in a way) making her femininity the focal point of her act, she fights her own objectivity as both woman and subject.
This notion returns to Marinetti, whose Variety Theatre
is a school of heroism in the difficulty of setting records and conquering
resistances, and it creates on the stage the strong, sane atmosphere of danger…disparages and healthily tramples down the compulsion towards carnal possession, lowers lust to the natural function of coitus, deprives it of every mystery, every crippling anxiety, every unhealthy idealism. (Marinetti, 423)

Because Justina, as the performer who dictates her own relationship with her audience, very forwardly presents her own body onstage, she takes the power out of the audience’s potential for desire and reclaims it as her own. Very little is left to the imagination, as some would say. Although it may appear to be quite the opposite, this solidifies her identity as unstable as the spectator is able to grasp it. With “everything” put out in the open, what does the audience have left to hold over her? This act of unexpected empowerment is what Elizabeth Grosz describes as “abjection”, which she defines as
the body’s acknowledgement that the boundaries and limits imposed on it are
really social projections – effects of desire, not nature. It testifies to the precarious grasp of the subject on its own identity, an assertion that the subject may slide back into the impure chaos out of which it was formed. It is, in other words, an avowal of the death drive, a movement of undoing identity. (Grosz, 145)

Grosz, like Marinetti and Butler, is interested in the social stigmas placed on the body as both object and subject. By creating a caricature, an amplified image of woman and of the female body as there to please, there for the taking, without actually being either at all, Justina Flash embodies the ideas of all three of these writers.

The subversive and underground nature of the burlesque scene and the variety show framing of such performance art, while perhaps initially appearing sentimental and less than topical in form and content, are, in reality, quite charged as a form of social commentary. Justina Flash’s act, specifically, raises questions about what place, if any, the construct of gender has in contemporary culture and (subsequently) on today’s stage. Her performance is not one that should qualify her as vulgar, shameless or ostentatious as many may ignorantly presume. On the contrary, her act is completely courageous, progressive (even with its roots in a very familiar performance tradition), and socially responsible as she strives to undermine exactly these misconceptions. In a generation saturated by fantastical notions of sex and sexuality in performance, what could be more appropriate or necessary?

Walk with me, walk with me...

This post goes out to Daniel Darwin and Carlee Ryan, the only people who tolerate (and, on a good day, embrace) my theatre-related YouTube binges. It happens more than you might think. The following videos are some tried and true favorites. Classics happen.



Okay, we all know that Raul Esparza is a badass. A huge one. I dare you to sing like that. This video, however, is not awesome so much because of his fucking out of this universe vocal clout, but because of the circumstances: He's just hanging out with theatre dork extraordinaire Seth Rudetsky (I want to be him when I grow up...He's uh-mah-zing, I'm obsessed...) - no big deal. He's singing "Defying Gravity", one of the most overplayed musical theatre numbers of this decade, and doesn't know the words. Thank you. Some people have better things to do than listen to Wicked, get wet over Idina's over-glorified belting and (subsequently) pretend they know something about the American musical. Raul Esparza is one of them and I love him for it - thank god he is a real musician and can sight read. Lastly, bombastic gestures are a plus here. A big plus.



Alan Cumming: I can't decide if I would rather fuck him or be him. Joel Grey: A huge legend of minuscule physical proportions who will always creep me out in the best way possible. Fosse dancers: Always sexy. Kander and Ebb: Know how to write a fucking musical. All of these things combined? Please excuse me while I tend to my sudden physical needs.



This one is specifically for Carlee because she has spent so many hours on our couch with me crying like an idiot over the final scene of Funny Girl and playing "Don't Rain on My Parade" whenever I'm acting like an emo turd. Carlee, you're a queen.



Daniel Darwin stalked this man and I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. Except those 9 times we went to see Spelling Bee, including the day of Barrett's last performance when we won the lottery for both the evening show and matinee. Oh, and the time he was in that G.B. Shaw reading nobody knew about. Right, and that time he was in Washington Square and I followed him with Daniel on the phone. It was all Daniel.



Patti LuPone is playing Argentinian. Mandy Patinkin has a false beard that would make the Yeti quiver. Eva Peron and Che Guevara. Come on.



Jonathan Groff can do no wrong. (Except when he was in the ensemble for In My Life but that wasn't his fault and I'm willing to overlook it.) This song is very simple and very sad but he sings the shit out of it. Also, who in their right mind would break up with the hypothetical "him" of this song? He can spit all he wants when he sings, it's okay with me.



This kid is fat and awkward. But let's get real. This is what I was totally doing when I was ten except I didn't have the balls or technology to tape myself doing it. This cast, as if hey weren't amazing enough, is fucking awesome for getting in touch with this kid, giving up their one afternoon a week of rest and filming the finale of the show with him. In The Heights is a Broadway show but this is a downtown mentality. Lin Manuelito (as he is commonly called in my household) is simultaneously on the verge of hysterical laughter and hysterical tears the whole time. That's pretty much how I feel about this. P.s. check out the videos this kid made that led to this happening in the first place. They're pretty much the best thing ever.



Yea, I know. Two videos of J.Groff. Don't judge me. This video is awesome because it was filmed at the Atlantic mainstage before the audience for this show was substantially comprised of hormonally challenged 14 year old girls and their uncomfortable mothers. I think this is an amazing closing number and should have been left on its own. (I can't express enough the extent to which I loath "The Song of Purple Summer".) Listen to the last harmony of the song - for those who are as pathetic as I am, you will notice that it is totally different and is kind of awesome despite the fact that I never had any qualms about the way it was by the time it made it to the Great White Way.



Broadway. Just for comparison's sake.



Let me introduce you to Iwan Rheon. I interviewed him while I was in London (the transcript of said interview is posted earlier on this blog). He is ridiculously talented. The London cast of this show in its entirety was mind-blowing. Their producers didn't let them record a cast album and the run ended way before it was scheduled to. I actually feel really priveleged to have been there for the whole run and (maybe excessively) attached to this specific production. This is where YouTube and our internet generation makes me really happy: Although I wrote a lot of my thoughts down every time I went to see it, these videos are pretty much the only thing that viscerally archives the fact that this even happened. If you want to see more clips from this cast (and you should) search SALondonFan on YouTube - most of the musical numbers are there. Specifically, check out "Whispering" because for the London production the Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik added a solo for Melchior that completely changed the function of the song for me. (And yeah, blah, blah, blah...I have obviously included quite a bit from this show - so kill me. I saw it 29 times and have no shame whatsoever.)



OhMyGodJenniferHollidaySHIT.



It's things like this that rmind me why I have a portrait of Stephen Sondheim tattooed to my arm. This is hardly the most well-known song from this show, but I think the lyrics are delightful and it's awesome that it is performed by proper opera singers, as so much of Sondheim's vocal demands are suited to their skills. This is also a tip o' the nib to the upcoming Broadway revival...Catherine Zeta Jones had better not let me down. This shit ain't no joke.



This is biased. Ths song is from Floyd Collins - if you don't know it, get to know it. I worked on this show a couple of years ago at NYU and this guy - Jay Johnson - played Floyd. Pure fucking gold. The closing number is beautiful. I'm a total atheist, but this is a song about "God" and "Heaven" and all that lovely nonsense and I'm absolutely sold. He is now understudying Claude in Hair on the big BWay and that is super awesome for him. Keep an eye out for him because he'll be around.



To end, I gift you this. A classic through and through. When I was 13 I was certain it was written for me. Welcome to the club, former self.

Because I'm a (Closeted) FanGirl...

Okay, I know for a fact that I'm not the only one who is probably a little too excited that Jonathan Groff publicly outed himself at the March for Equality in Washington D.C. That is ridiculously awesome, and what better place to do it?

This is not a gossipy thing I'm trying to do here. I just think it is really wonderful that a performer as talented, important and in the public eye as Groff (now beyond his stage reputation, having recently made his film debut in Ang Lee's Taking Woodstock and on an upcoming guest spot on the popular TV show Glee with former Spring Awakening co-star Lea Michele) is confident and proud enough to be open about who he is. There are so many people who look up to him and the example that he sets by coming out is an invaluable one.

What's more (and this is a bit Gladys Kraviz of me, I admit) is that he is reputed to be dating Gavin Creel, the successor to his Shakespeare in the Park Claude. It's kind of funny, but who can care when they are both so damn amazing? I hope they harmonize when they get all sexy.

Yes, please.

"Onwards and upwards!"

The final line of Neil Simon's coming of age time Brighton Beach Memoirs rang all too sonorously this afternoon as the just-open production came to an untimely close. The show's producers announced last night that the show would end its run today and the currently rehearsing sister production of Brighton's sequel Broadway Bound (or not) would be cut short before going into performances. Not cool, producers.

Admittedly, I went into the performance with varying degrees of bias and pretense. On the one hand, I had nostalgic stock in the show having played the part of Laurie as a high school student. On the other hand, I had a sneaking suspicion that if the producers were so eager to close, there must have been something lacking. Also, and this is really neither here nor there, I was hiding several rows behind my roommate and his hot-to-trot boss, a certain cornerstone in the world of commercial theatre. When introduced to me she barely looked me in the eye and I was left outside alone to finish my cigarette while my friend allowed himself to be apologetically whisked away. What those fools didn't know is that I was sitting in front of Neil Simon himself. Yes, I am enough of a dork to recognize him.

What I found, despite all of the nonsense I had festering in my head and the overdose of Vitamin C I was popping throughout to counteract my impending cold, was a very much needed performance of sentimentality. This play is not extremely topical, dealing only very tangentially with the second World War, but it hits right on the mark in terms of presenting the "family" as it exists in the uniquely American melting-pot sense. Everybody is struggling and complaining, but everybody is supporting each other. Noah Robbins, in his Broadway debut as Eugene, never missed a beat: his timing was genius and he was the perfect amounts naive and snarky. Backing up Robbins was a generally "good" ensemble, none of whom particularly shone on their own save the fabulous Laurie Metcalf in the role of Kate, Eugene's mother. Although Eugene narrates, Kate is really this show's lynch pin and Metcalf played the hell out of the role.

My one glaring point of contention with this production was Alexandra Socha. I don't like her. She was horrible as Wendla when she replaced Lea Michele in Spring Awakening and she was horrible today. At least in Spring Awakening she wasn't trying to imitate a 1930's Brooklyn Jewish accent. She couldn't act her way out of a paper bag. Go back to drama school.

Brighton Beach Memoirs doesn't have much to offer beyond its ability to put a smile on your face. Arthur Miller really took the family setting of Simon's work and made it far more interesting, topical and high stakes with plays such as A View From the Bridge. However, that doesn't make it any less of a shame to see a perfectly formidable production of a delightful (and thoroughly American) play flop before really being given a chance to thrive. When the curtain fell at the end of the second act I turned around, momentarily contemplating thanking Mr. Simon for his work, but, like his play, he had slipped away almost as quickly as I had noticed his presence.

With so little to be sure of...

...if there's anything at all.

There are few things that I can say that I am sure of at this exact point in time (other than "here and now and us together"...). For one thing, I am sure of what makes me go all a-tingly in my theatrical nether regions and what makes me want to vomit old sheet music. With the summer drawing to an imminent close, there is much on the horizon to be aware of. Here is my own personal and biased lineup:

The mucho gustos:

Othello (Produced by the Public Theatre, directed by Peter Sellars, starring John Ortiz as the Moor himself and P.S. Hoffman as Iago) This one speaks for itself. Right off the bat, I question the sanity of anybody who is not eager to see one of the greatest living American actors grace the stage as one of dramatic literature's greatest and least apologetic villains of all time. Peter Sellars is infamous for his work with opera, lending a modern lilt to classic work and breathing a tour de force life into contemporary work (as in his close working relationship with living American composer John Adams). He is sure to do great things with a straight play that hardly lacks the emotional charge of the operatic canon. In a totally selfish light, as an NYU student I score big time (for once) with access to $12 student tickets because the venue is the good old Skirball Center. Ra ra. Finally, the Public can really do no wrong. Q.E.D.

The Understudy (Written by Theresa Rebeck, Roundabout Theatre Company, starring Julie White, Mark-Paul Gosselaar and Justin Kirk) Okay, this is a big season for names and this off-Broadway production of Rebeck's new play is stacked. After the recent appearance of Mario Lopez in A Chorus Line, why would producers NOT find a vehicle for Zack Morris? (Maybe next year we will see Dustin Diamond in the title role of Hamlet...) Justin Kirk, although popularly known now for his work on film, is no stranger to the stage and his return is much welcomed by yours truly. His capacity to adapt to roles that couldn't be more polar opposite (what would happen if Andy Botwin and Prior Walter went out for coffee?) leaves me soundly expecting a performance worth talking about. Finally, who doesn't love Julie White? She won the Tony for The Little Dog Laughed, appeared on Six Feet Under and playwright Rebeck has written specifically for her in the past. This woman has obviously been doing something right. (Also, who among us, whether admittedly or not, doesn't like a little backstage inside joke in their theatre-going lineup? The play focuses on "one of the most notorious roles in the theatre: the understudy.")

The Bacchae (Public Theater's Shakespeare in the Park, directed by JoAnne Akalaitis, starring Jonathan Groff) Has anybody else been watching the new season of True Blood? Is anybody else getting a little miffed by Mary Ann and her Dionysian tomfoolery? Thank fuck the Public will pull us back to the roots with this production. Can you really think of a better play to be staged outside? And with a new (under)score by Philip Glass? I will not soon forget Alan Cumming's performance as Dionysus (at the Lincoln Center last summer) but am very eager to see what the much younger, much more innocent Jonathan Groff will do with the role. Oh, yeah, and it's free, lest we forget. Again, I assert that the Public can do no wrong. (Ten points deposited in the posthumous bank of awesomeness for Joe Papp).

The No Me Gusta Column:

American Idiot (Berkeley Rep, Directed by Michael Mayer) What the hell, everybody? Are you really making another jukebox musical? Does it really have to be formed around the album that reminds everybody what Green Day once was (wank-worthy) and no longer is? Does everybody involved have to be so legit that I am probably going to have to see it when it (inevitably) comes to New York? Damn all of you. Truly, why is everybody involved in this puke-prompting project really established and talented? Michael Mayer, John Gallager Jr., Tom Kitt, DO YOU REALLY HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO? Good luck super-imposing a narrative onto that piece of rubbish...

Catch Me If You Can (Seattle's 5th Ave. Theatre) All I have to say about this is that A) we don't need another movie cum musical B) Aaron Tveit traded in a wonderful role in an excellent ORIGINAL work for a wardrobe the size of a small country and C) this speaks volumes.

Heed my musings or don't. I'm just one small girl (in a tree).

This is the dawning of the age of...the internet musical?

I have been thinking a great deal lately about the internet. Good timing, right? I might be a good decade or so behind the 8 Ball on this one. All the same, my musings are not entirely untimely when you take the current recession into consideration. With little to no money to spare, many of us who would rather be sitting in on live performances have had to resort to other media for our doses of modern performance. Whether it be watching clips from the Tony Awards on YouTube or catching up with Mary Louise Parker's latest antics on Weeds, we have all had to adjust to new budgets that don't leave room for weekly trips to the theatre.

A few days ago, a good friend e-mailed me a link to CollegeHumor's new online musical "Web Site Story". This short video (obviously) draws from the classic musical West Side Story not only for its name, but also loosely as the basis for its plot. Tony and Maria meet online (after Tony comes across Maria's Twitter updates via Facebook) and the two plan a romantic meeting. All that they know about eachother comes from their respective online haunts and profiles: Tony knows that Maria is an avid fan of Jason Mraz and he sings a song (to the tune of "Maria") in praise of Pandora, which allows him to "educate himself" in the ways of such devotees. Maria's friends (in a scene directly reminiscent of "I Feel Pretty") sing about the joys of Twitter, which allows everybody to know what she is doing at every moment of the day. Other popular internet phenomena that are touched on include the popular dating website eHarmony, Google Earth and e-vites. Tony and Maria even admit to the excitement of blogging about one another after their date is over.

While the video certainly makes fun of all of the aforementioned forms of "communication", it also is targeted at exactly those people who have made such forms as prominent as they are. The friend who sent me the link is a complete computer junkie who most likely came across this project via somebody's "tweeting". It is interesting that the form of the musical has translated so popularly to both video and the internet (see also things such as the web series The Battery's Down and Joss Whedon's Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog). "Web Site Story" appeals to very different crowds of people: those who are (to quote a friend) "married to the internet" and theatre junkies such as myself who are more interested in the reshaping of classic work and forms for a contemporary audience and, specifically, this generation. What does this say about the future of the musical? While such an overwhelming amount of what is being staged is either a film adaptation or a jukebox musical (for example the upcoming Spider Man Turn Off the Dark or American Idiot), is it necessarily a negative thing that young people are taking advantage of more modern resources in order to reimagine what this form can mean to a generation so plagued by moment to moment updating and instant gratification? I am certainly a life-long proponent of live performance and musical theatre proper, but at a time when resources are scarce and producing a successful original work is becoming increasingly difficult is it a negative thing to find an alternative route to creation? The material is certainly topical and original, if nothing else.

So, I end these scattered musings on a note of uncertainty. Are internet musicals effectively destroying the future of musical theatre or simply providing an outlet for a generation that has clung to a new form of communication and expression?

Iwan Rheon

After being met with massive success on Broadway (including 8 Tony Awards in 2007, 4 Drama Desk Awards and a Grammy, among others), Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik’s rock musical Spring Awakening has taken London’s West End by storm. Based on German playwright Frank Wedekind’s 1891 play of the same title, the musical chronicles the adolescent search for a logical adult world and deals with issues of sex, rape, suicide and homosexuality. I met with Iwan Rheon who plays Moritz Stiefel, the “sad, soulful sleepyhead” who can’t quite come to grips with the changes that face him. Shy and playful at 23, he spoke about his experience in the show and as a newcomer to the West End stage.    

So, could you possibly start by talking about how you got to where you are now? Training? The audition process?

Yeah. I, em, I trained in London at LAMDA and I graduated in 2007. And then I think it was either in October or November 2007 the audition process started. And that’s when I first met the casting directors for the first time. Em, and then later on the creative team came and that’s when auditions began. And then they went back again and then they came back again. And that lasted for about a year. Em, and then in September we had the sort of final round, em, and then that ended up being a week long workshop and learning scenes for each character, doing some parts and we learned songs and started to do the show. Em, and then a week later, or a little over a week later, then I heard I got the part. So it was a long process.

Yeah, it sounds like it. It must have been weird being put together with the other people you were in direct competition with. 

Yeah, it’s quite strange because you get to chatting with them and become friends. It was quite a relaxing atmosphere. There was a lot of cameras – (Laughing) it wasn’t relaxing, it was very stressful. But, and then you sort of clung to each other, especially the two Moritzes in the corner going (gestures nerves) and this and that. But yeah, it was a shame that at the end of it only one person was going to get picked. We did scenes in front of each other, which was very difficult. But it all worked out okay in the end. 

Were you familiar with the musical or with Frank Wedekind’s original text before you came into this?

No. I read the original play – the Edward Bond translation – as soon as I started auditioning. And then I sort of just searched the musical as well. But no, I never heard of it. I’ve never really done musicals before. It’s been sort of straight acting and then singing, etc. and I’ve been in bands so it was - yeah, the two mounded together really quite well.

And what have you done with bands? Do you usually sing? Do you play an instrument?

Yeah, I sing and play the guitar. Yeah, but obviously I can’t do that any more. So hopefully when this finishes I’m going to pick that back up again. 

Very nice. And what about the things you’re auditioning for in the foreseeable future? Are you going to go for more musicals? Straight plays?

Well, I’d like to do some more straight plays. I’m pretty open to what I’ll do – I’d like to do something different after. I think not a musical next. Yeah, we’ll see what happens. It is quite difficult at the moment to audition for things because we don’t know how long this is going to run. 

Right, of course. And you do eight shows a week, yeah?

Yeah. 

So what do you do in your free time when you’re not going crazy here?

(Laughing) Em, well I mean I just try and relax really and not think about the play and the musical – try not to get downtrodden with myself. Yeah, just try and relax. Just try and read or whatever so my life isn’t completely taken over by the show because that would be dangerous. (Laughs) 

Is there any talk about recording a cast album?

Em, there are many rumors but it’s never been said. They haven’t mentioned it. It’s just a lot of speculation I think. It’d be lovely to do it but, em, I don’t think it’s in the near future. 

Personally I would be so excited if you guys recorded. You sound great. I’ve been listening to these terrible bootlegs on YouTube and I would love to not have to do that. It’s a bit pathetic of me, I think. (Both laugh)

Okay, one thing I’ve noticed, having seen the show several times both here and in New York, is that the effect of the non-musical scenes here is very different. The stakes seem higher. I hate to use this word, but I think it reads as much more “truthful” here. What was the focus on these scenes like in the rehearsal process?

Yeah, there was a lot of focus on the scenes. I mean, the way it was staged – because it was already so formed on Broadway – it was already like sort of choreographed in a way and that. We got through that and sort of then found our own way into it. I think the cast over here is a lot younger in general. Yeah, I think it must be sort of a British sort of theatrical thing that everything is just sort of really gritty and maybe a little bit darker. I never saw the Broadway version so I have nothing to compare it with but yeah, I mean, I think from what I’ve heard it seems to be a lot darker and I think the innocence of the characters comes through a lot more - from what I’ve heard. 

The creative team was the same here as it was in New York. How was it to work with Michael Mayer?

It was great. He obviously had such a strong idea of what it was and it was helpful in many ways. I’m used to kind of getting a script and then finding it whereas here we learned the script, did all of the blocking and then had to find it so it was kind of working in reverse, which was quite strange. And it was great working with Kimberly [Grigsby, musical supervisor]. She’s got a great passion for the music, so it was great to work with someone like that.

How was the switch from the Lyric Hammersmith to the Novello? Do you feel like much changed in that transition? 

Em, I don’t think it changed massive amounts. I think we just had to be aware that we were in a bigger space. The set is exactly the same, just a bit wider. I don’t think it’s changed a massive amount. It’s still just very important to keep to all of the things we rehearsed and all the actions and the intentions of the scenes. I think it’s pretty much stayed the same. 

How much time did you have in between to get used to the new space?

Em, well we had like three days off after the end of the Lyric run. And then we came here – it was the Wednesday – to do a sort of safe-through on the new stage. And then we started teching on Thursday and we opened on Friday night. So it wasn’t a great deal of time. But I think that might be a good thing because we didn’t get a chance to think about it. Everything was so quick that we just did it and then thought about it afterwards which is good. Probably. (Laughs)

How do you feel about the onstage seating? That’s obviously pretty unusual for any major commercial production. Is it strange to have people right there staring at you?

Yeah, it’s strange. I’ve gotten used to it now, but at first it was a bit weird. Bit I think, em, I try not to think about it. It’s kind of strange. I think it’s a really good way to bring the audience into the world of the play. Em, it just gives a really nice intimate feel, which is great. Em, but no I mean it doesn’t really affect – well, I mean you obviously have to be aware of everyone when you move around. But, no, I quite like it. 

Yeah, it feels so weird sitting onstage. I love it but I also always feel like ‘Oh, God’. 

(Laughs) Yeah, it’s always quite interesting watching the sort of body language of the people in the front row and onstage – all looking around and sitting there (Imitates people sitting compactly and nervously) all closed. It’s quite funny. (Laughs)

Yeah, that would be me with my long legs. I’m always afraid I’m going to trip somebody. Actually, the first time I saw the show was from onstage and I got kicked really hard during “The Bitch of Living”. 

(Laughing) You should have sued. 

Seriously. So, I’m assuming that a lot of your friends and family have come to see the show. How has that been? 

Yeah. I think obviously when your parents come to see something you want to make them proud. But I mean you have to try and treat it as a normal show. And then just trust in the work. And then usually everything will go alright.

There are advertisements and posters for this show all over the city. In the tube, on busses, in shops. How does it feel to all of a sudden see your face all over the city when you’re just walking around? Is that weird?

It is a bit strange. (Laughing) My housemates though, they think it’s quite funny. The other day they were in a kebab shop and then (Laughs) they saw a poster of me and stole it off the wall and took it home and put it up in the bathroom. So when I woke up in the morning and went into the bathroom I was like ‘What the hell is that doing here?!’ (Laughs) But yeah, it’s quite funny. You can’t really take it too seriously. It’s quite weird to see your face on the wall. But luckily I’m sort of facing away and I have that crazy haircut so it’s not so obvious that it’s me. 

Speaking of that, how do you feel about the haircut?

Em, I mean it’s part of the character. (Laughs) I think it works really well onstage. But obviously in real life it’s quite difficult to hide. I wear a lot of hats. (Laughs) Yeah, it’s doable. It’s just part of the job. 

So you’re not going to stick with it after?

 (Laughing) Noooo.

Alright, alright. A bit more seriously: your character obviously deals with and brings up some of the more serious issues in the show, suicide especially. I would imagine that it must be really trying to go onstage get yourself to that place every night. How do you get there without just totally dragging yourself down in it offstage?

Yeah, I just try, I mean, I think you’ve just got to believe it. As an actor you’ve got to believe what you’re doing and really try to feel those emotions. I kind of like just sort of think, let myself go, just think about the thoughts of the character and all of the different things that sort of build – build into this situation. So you really have to go there I think. But obviously there has to be a sort of process of sitting down, trying not to – trying to get out of it, think of something else. That’s why I like to when I’m not doing the show do something else and not think about it too much. And I think it’s really easy to really get into it too much and get a bit, em, self-indulgent about some things. But then that’s something where I really have to just try and think ‘Just tell the story, just tell this boy’s story’ and try to make it as real as possible because you’re dealing with real issues and real things. You have to be respectful to the people that go through this and you can’t sort of half do it. So have to really do it but also not go too far into it that you feel like you’re becoming suicidal yourself. It’s quite difficult. But you’ve just got to try and let it go afterwards. 

It must be great then that you have this ensemble supporting you. Obviously you are all together a lot. How is the group dynamic? Do you spend time together outside of the theatre?

Yeah, on a Saturday night we’ll normally do something. We’ll all go out. Yeah, and a lot of the cast live together.

Oh, really?

Yeah, because for a lot of them it’s their first time living in London. So they kind of just went into it together. But I don’t live with any of them. Which I think is a good thing. (Laughs) But yeah, it’s been great. It’s like a group of friends that you have offstage which I think comes across really well onstage when we go out there and do the show together.

And what about the two adults proper? How do they fit into that whole situation? They’re kind of surrounded by this crazy youth culture thing all the time. 

(Laughs) Yeah, I think they enjoy it. It’s really good because they’re so experienced. It’s great for us to have that kind of experience for us to sort of draw from. You know, little things they say and do, just to watch how they do things themselves, and it’s really good for us. And I think they’re kind of the mother and father of the company. (Laughs)

Have any of the original cast members from New York come to see the show?

Yeah. Well, Jonathan Groff came. He was really nice. Yeah, he loved it. I think he was the only one, actually. Oh, no! Lauren Pritchard. She’s seen it a couple of times I think. Yeah.

Okay, I have to ask this. Do you have a dream role that you hope to play at some point in your career?

I would love to play Iago in Othello! (Laughs) Yeah, that would be my dream role. I think I have to wait a few years for that though. (Laughs)

You said you spend a lot of free time reading. Do you read many plays? Or do you prefer to read other things, like novels and such?

Em, novels. I don’t know. I find that watching a play is much better than reading it. Especially the Shakespeare. I have a hard time to sit down and enjoy reading a Shakespeare. (Laughs) Because it wasn’t written to be read. So, em, yeah I try and read other stuff when I have the chance. It’s quite good actually after I come offstage in Act II and just have a book about something completely different and just read that. It kind of takes you out of the weight of the world and all that…malarkey. (Laughs)

It must be a bummer, though, not be able to go and see other shows that are running right now. 

Yeah, it’s a shame. Especially because some of my friends who I went to drama school with are all in shows that I’m not able to go see. Yeah, it’s a shame. But when I get time off from the show I’ll try to go see some things.

How does that work out? How often do you get a break? Is that predetermined? 

Yeah, we all get 27 days off. But we’re not all allowed off at the same time and that. And I’m not allowed to take time off at the same time as Ilse. And Melchior and Wendla, they can’t take time off together. So it’s just trying to keep as much of the cast on so that when the swings come in it’s not too different. 

Yeah, I’ve seen a couple of understudies here. It really changes the dynamics onstage and it’s interesting to see different people’s takes on these characters. Would you ever consider coming on a day off and watching somebody else do your role?

Em, I dunno. I think it’s good to watch the show. Right at the beginning of the run at the Lyric I injured my back so I missed the first five previews. So, and then I watched it twice. And you learn a lot that way. But no, I don’t think I could do that to my understudy. (Laughs) To have him know that I’m somewhere in the audience like this (Arms and legs crossed, making a face) watching him. (Laughs) It wouldn’t be fair. 

Okay, finally I just want to ask you a sort of silly question. If you had to switch roles for one night who would you want to play and why? Regardless of gender and age.

Oh, gender! (Laughs) Hmm…No, but seriously I would have to say Melchior. Because he is sort of the opposite of Moritz and it would be quite good to do the whole picture like, full circle. That would be quite fun.

Panic - Pit Theatre at the Barbican Centre

The Barbican's Panic is many things. Clever, thoughtful and entertaining are not among them. More appropriate adjective could, however, include masturbatory, juvenile and limp. From the moment that Phelim McDermot removes his clothing and embarks on a nearly two hour show and tell about his fixation on "the great god Pan" (the devilishly anrachic folk master of sex and lust), you can hardly help but slump down into your armrest-less seat and sigh. This is going to be a long ride in the back seat and the driver won't let you roll down the windows for a breath of fresh air.

As a company, Improbable has earned a reputation for creating innovative and experimental theatre since their appearance on the scene in the 90's. Here, McDermot's passion project undermines the group mentality and this "ensemble show" becomes more of a solo piece with human props. This is a shame because the three female "nymphs" who cater to the whims of McDermot's navel-gazing fantasy are uniquely and individually talented, especially the truly pixie-like Matilda Leyser who dazzles audience members with her gravity defying contortion and aerial skills. It is just too bad that she is manipulated by the heavily soil bound McDermot and his recollections of bouts with labyrinthitis, his unnervingly large collection of self help books and ten foot prick made of spindly twigs (the effect of which is about as flimsy as the packing tape that holds it together). And, oh yes, this somehow all relates to "the great god Pan". Or so you are repeatedly told.

It would be unfair not to give due credit to the creative team behind this unfortunate attempt at creative storytelling. Although the set and the majority of the props and costumes are made solely out of brown paper (yes, like the bags), the effect is surprisingly beautiful: the many limbering layers unfold and fall to create an illusion of depth that is enough to pleasantly detract from the action, if just for a few fleeting moments. Video and small-scale puppetry are well executed, but suspiciously trite. Getting a good technician to manipulate a couple of high contrast images and video clips cannot be equated to ingenuity (contrary to popular belief). In fact, it can barely be equated to novelty.

Unless you fancy yourself an aspiring disciple of "the great god Pan", hope to make number 148 on Phelim McDermot's list of women had or simply want to visit the ducks who congregate around the benches and fountains outside the Barbican (they are quite friendly!), don't bother. Stay home and have a good wank; Pan would probably approve.

Kafka's Monkey - The Young Vic

If you thought that the age of physical actors, renaissance men of the human body and all of its faculties, went out with the likes of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, think again. If you can’t remember the last time that a simple and isolated facial expression simultaneously made you feel pure delight and utter despair, take a trip to the Young Vic where Kafka’s Monkey, Colin Teevan’s adaptation of Franz Kafka’s “A Report to an Academy”, is now in production.

As the ape central in Kafka’s text, Kathryn Hunter ambles onstage carrying a tattered suitcase and dressed in an oversized gentleman’s suit that suggests more caricature than esteem. Her pants hang off of her innocently and her hair peeks out from under her top hat in a humble mess as Hunter abandons her luggage, rummages through some papers and steps to the podium inhabiting the otherwise bare black box space, a larger than life projection of an ape looming beyond her tiny physique. It is in this moment that Hunter’s ape addresses her audience, the presumed “academy”, for the first time and prepares to relate the story of her character’s “former life as an ape” and assimilation into the world of man.

It is not so much the content borrowed from Kafka’s story that makes this a performance worth seeing, although its counterweighted moments of hope and despair, comedy and tragedy, cannot help but penetrate and unsettle even the most stoic of theatergoers. It is Hunter’s sheer performative bravado that, from the moment she steps onstage, never fails to mesmerize. Having been the first woman to play King Lear on the professional stage in the UK, the Olivier Award winning actress is not unfamiliar with taking on a role that does not mimic her own corporeal make-up. In this piece, however, Hunter is not simply playing a man, but a man who was once a monkey: a challenge to any performer, male or female. Her range shines beyond description as she adopts the body language of our hairy predecessor and contorts effortlessly in ways that would be a feat for an actor half her age.

As members of the unnamed Academy, spectators are just as integral to the piece as Hunter herself. Carefully observing and feeding off of the energy of the audience, she never misses a beat in moments of beautiful improvisation and interaction with her guests: she offers a banana to one man, enjoys another woman’s head lice as a delicious refreshment and begs for the return of a bottle of rum that she has left with another man. Do not enter this theatre if you are not willing to give a little back to this performance that gives so much to you.

Parlour Song - Almeida Theatre

At a time when shows like "Desperate Housewives" and "Weeds" are in high demand, there is hardly a lack of suburban intrigue and scandal. In fact, we seem to be obsessed with it: that dirty little secret lurking below the surface of an otherwise pleasant facade until it hits a breaking point and proper hell breaks loose all over the white picket fences. Jez Butterworth's Parlour Song may unfold in just that myopic landscape (where all of the houses are exactly the same on the outside and structural mirror images on the inside), but his sense of narrative owes little to the pop culture phenomenon of that which is hidden in the little boxes on the hillside and is all the better for it.

Set in rural England, Dale and Ned are neighbors who, on the surface have little in common: The brilliant Toby Jones' Ned is short and stout (sporting a pair of "tits" which he works naively to rid himself of) and works in demolition, obliterating constructions much larger than he could ever be and is married to Joy (Amanda Drew). Dale (Andrew Lincoln) is the macho but sympathetic and human regular Joe who owns a chain of car washes and completely outdoes Ned in the charm department. Despite their differences, the two men share a bond of trust. In their own suburban susperia, the despair is not lying anywhere under the surface. Ned is paranoid: he believes that somebody is stealing all of his possessions, his marriage with his wife has very clearly lost its spark long ago. Dale is discontent: he sees his work as worthless and emasculating in comparison to Ned's, his children are barely a blip on his radar screen, his wife is hardly home when he is. The power of this piece comes not from it's exposition of a seedy underbelly, but an exploration of the humanity of these "dark" thoughts and events.

The piece is brilliantly designed by Jeremy Herbert with a rotating stage that seems to literally unfold, illuminate and cloak itself in darkness just as seamlessly as Butterworth's native dialogue flows from one scene into the next. Toby Jones and Andrew Lincoln respectively do great justice to these two very different men, Jones single-handedly stealing the entire show in a five minute sequence during which he attempts to tone himself up in the privacy of his living room. Amanda Drew's Joy is not quite as striking, but perhaps that is appropriate in a character for whom mediocrity has begrudgingly become a norm. The writing is witty, the staging is full of surprises and (if you must draw comparisons) the dashing Andrew Lincoln could give both Mary Louise Parker and Eva Longoria a run for their money.

He looked surprised and said, 'No'.

What do you know about Joe Orton? If the answer to that question is "nothing" (or anything remotely resembling it) then you have gravely deprived yourself.

Joe Orton lived and died in a neighborhood in London called Islington, which happens to be where I am currently keeping myself. Aside from being a fantastically cheeky and dark playwright, he was also a mischief maker with a wit of steel and a master of promiscuity, much to the chagrin, it turned out, of his long time partner Kennith Halliwell with whom Orton shared his tiny flat at 25 Noel Road. I happened (completely coincidentally...or was it?) to find myself at 25 Noel Road today with a copy of Orton's diaries and complete works. Call me a posthumous stalker.

Orton's most well-known work is indisputably Loot, which centers around a young man who irreverently disposes of his mother's corpse when he needs a place to conceal a large sum of stolen money and sees the fittest location to be the aforementioned deceased's coffin. Overwhelmed yet? It only gets better, so read it. Entertaining Mr. Sloane (currently running on the West End with Imelda Staunton and Mathew Horne) and What the Butler Saw are equally dependant on improbability and shenanigan - critics and admirers have deemed his work to be absurd but Orton insisted that he was writing real life. This is eerily apropos considering the circumstances of his own life and death. Much of the content of his writing seems to foreshadow a great deal of what actually came to unfold in his too short life.

It can be presumed that, if his plays have any part of Joe Orton the man in them, he was not a bullshitter. This is supported by reading even the first page of his diaries (which everybody should do - John Lahr is an amazing editor/compiler/researcher). He is frank in his tastes and even more frank with regards to his sexual practices. After the early passion of his relationship with Halliwell, Orton hardly mentions him as an object of any affection or desire - he functioned more as an assistant to Orton as his success became more and more eminent. On the contrary, Orton conducted most of his physical escapades in toilets and "cottages" (for all of the New Yorkers reading, think Turkish Baths or Tea Houses...) or in abandoned buildings, alleys, flats belonging to men who he picked up on the streets or in parks and toilets.

Despite the lack of sexual spark between Orton and Halliwell in the writer's final years, the two certainly had their fair share of alternative escapades. Both spent six months in prison after having been tracked down as the pranksters who defaced a variety of books that they stole from their local library and returned for other unsuspecting bibliophiles to come across. Orton also took it upon himself to write mischievously sarcastic letters under assumed names to various individuals, publications and institutions. (These letters are also published with John Lahr's edition of his diaries and absolutely worth reading.) Joe Orton hated Americans. I can't really blame him. He is so very articulate in writing about it that you can't justify faulting him. Americans do leave quite a bad taste in the mouth...

Joe Orton died in the apartment that I creepily visited today. He was 34 years old and was murdered by Halliwell - nine blows to the head with a hammer. Halliwell then took his own life with the help of 22 Nembutal tablets. He left the following note:

If you read his diary all will be explained.

KH

P.S. Especially the latter part.

Damn. Orton was working on a screenplay titled Up Against It for The Beatles at the time of his death. It was never finished. Orton's funeral was attended by many friends, family, actors, writers. Only three people attended Kenneth Halliwell's funeral. He was neglected even in his last hoorah.

Read his plays. Read his diaries. At the very least, watch Prick Up Your Ears (the biopic based on John Lahr's research and Orton's diaries - Gary Oldman, Alfred Molina, Vanessa Redgrave, Wallace Shawn...seriously. You have no excuse not to. It's on YouTube.)

Until later.

Spring Awakening - Novello Theatre

If there was ever any hope that this project would be a relatively objective one, that hope is officially abandoned here and now.

That having been said, it is only appropriate that the first post proper is in regards to Spring Awakening, a show that, at this point, I have no ability to disassociate from emotional self. To get the embarrassing part out of the way from the start, let it be known that tonight marked my 22nd return to 1891 Germany. ("Hi, my name is Emily and I'm a theatriholic...") I was seated onstage in the second row downstage right. For anybody who is unfamiliar with this show in performance, it should be said that sitting onstage is not ideal for a first-timer as everybody who has the privilege of seeing this amazing piece needs to really see it: the lighting design could justify the price of any ticket on its own and with the power of the full band onstage the lyrics are often drowned out by the orchestrations (which is not a problem if you happen to know all of the lyrics anyhow...) On the other side of the coin, however, if you have already been and are keen on returning, sitting onstage is a unique and intimate experience. The actors form a relationship with the onstage audience members that goes far beyond the interaction that took place (or didn't) in the States.

This is a good place to segue into what makes the UK production of this show very different from the original New York production (at both the Atlantic and the Eugene O'Neill theatres). Although the creative team is the same as it was for the original production, they were very clear on the fact that they didn't simply want to create a carbon copy of what they had already done. Obviously, it isn't radically different in the basic motions of the thing but it is the care that has very clearly been taken by the cast to present it as honestly as possible. Where the original cast was professional and efficient and talented, the British cast is full of raw energy and genuine passion. This is not to say that I don't adore the original cast because they will forever own a piece of my pathetic heart. The fact is simply that at the Novello Theatre in the West End (and before at the Lyric Hammersmith) the moment to moment work is mind blowing. There is something so much more human with this group of people. Aneurin Barnard (who I had the pleasure of meeting two weeks ago when he spoke to my class - so thoughtful and even more articulate) takes the role of Melchior and makes him so much more heartbreaking than I have ever known that character to be in performance. Iwan Rheon's Moritz is just as skittish as John Gallagher Jr.'s but more vulnerable. I cannot say enough about Charlotte Wakefield's Wendla: she is a real person. Her dialogue and action here come alive and have intention, feeling. She is decisive and innocent without being naive or foolish. Jamie Blackley and Harry McEntire as Hanschen and Ernst (respectively) form a relationship that completely avoids any sense of the cartoonish without losing any of the humor inherent in their hallmark scene towards the end of Act II. Evelyn Hoskins is the first Thea that I not only don't want to punch in the face but would also bow down to. Richard Cordery and Sian Thomas as the Adult Men and Adult Women become just as revered by curtain call as their young colleagues. I could go on...the bottom line is that this is a cast made up of real performers.

Because I am a complete nerd, it is necessary for me to also mention some technical differences that I am also one hundred percent sold on. The fight choreography here is far more intense, significantly more violent, and carried out infinitely more convincingly. It is such a pleasure to watch the reformatory scene and witness a brawl that doesn't make me think of a Punch and Judy vignette. A solo for Melchior has been added to "Whispering" (a reprise of "Touch Me") that really pulls the whole sequence together and makes this song really make sense in terms of both character and narrative. It should also be mentioned that during this song, Melchior is seated in the chair on the wall (as he was in the original production) but in this production the chair is built into a track in the wall and he moves from one side of the stage to the other over the band over the course of the song. It is very slow and the visual of it is very beautiful and completely appropriate in context. Melchior has much more freedom in the way he moves - Barnard is not a complacent still life. His rendition of "Totally Fucked" could not possibly be more charged and this is where his vocal ability really shines. Lines have been added and certain lyrics have been changed to cater to the fact that the English don't know what "looks so nasty in those khakis" means. There are some things that are better off lost in translation...I am not mourning the loss of that one. Fanny Gabor is Clara Gabor. Fanny is a vagina euphemism. Go figure.

I could go on, being even more vague and fan girl-esque than I already have been but will spare you. If you find yourself in London then go see this show. Now.

More intelligent musings next time. I promise.

This is the reason for dreaming.

So, it has finally come to this. I can't say that I'm surprised.

I enter the blogosphere with total awareness that I am a hypocrite. Despite what I may have said about the whole practice in the past, here I am...going for it. Go ahead, judge me. I dare you.

Henceforth, this will be a dumping ground for my (obviously enthralling) accounts of and thoughts about theatre and performance. Again, I dare you to judge me. I can't think of a better way to spare my friends the pain of listening to me gush about my love of all things dramatic.

And so we begin. Curtain up, light the lights...