Category Archives: Theater Event

Triplicity

Talking Band has been generating their unique brand of performance art for more than 50 years.  Last year, they received a Lifetime Achievement Obie Award for their whimsical thought provoking body of work, which includes Painted Snake in a Painted Chair (2003), Panic! Euphoria! Blackout (2010), and Shimmer and Herringbone (2024).  Their latest creation, Triplicity (rhymes with simplicity), fills their singular mold with its poetic storytelling, musical interludes and distinctive movement. Written and composed by founding member Ellen Maddow, it follows three people whose lives fleetingly touch as New Yorkers often do.  Adding a score to their communion is an attuned street performer stationed near the West Village Path train.

Anna Kiraly’s staggered set is suggestive of distinct yet related households, with welcoming doorways and windows that are more light display than light admitting.  A small projection screen stage right provides a musical title for each scene.  The only pop of color is behind the musician who is aptly named  Calliope after the muse of epic poetry.  The character is brought to blazing life by the one-of-a-kind El Beh, a performer with too many hyphens to list.  Costume designer Olivera Gajic has likewise saved her most vivid selections for this unique goddess, at one point reminding us they are the key by dressing them in keys.  The lighting design by Mary Ellen Stebbins by turns unites and divides the characters with cool pools.  

Though small, the cast well-represents the broad range of generations, appearances, and sensibilities of a New York City neighborhood.  The first resident we meet is Frankie, a retired bookkeeper played by Talking Band regular Lizzie Olesker.  At first she shrugs off her days as repetitive and grey, but they take on definition with each recounting.  Next we are introduced to an empathic budding non-fiction writer, an exuberant Amara Granderson.  Rounding out the unlikely trio is an exterminator from Bay Ridge with a soft spot for bee hives.  Steven Rattazzi’s rendering is so genuine, one could reasonably expect him to change into work overalls and grab a bag of sticky traps post-show.  The triad is doing its best to give each day a purpose and act responsibly.  With choreography by Sean Donovan and Brandon Washington augmenting Artistic Director Paul Zimet’s stage direction, the stories flow one to the other with phrases and key words echoed by Calliope’s dramatic accompaniment and wardrobe.  As Frankie often says, “That’s all; that’s it.”  But often that’s more than enough.

Steven Rattazzi and Amara Granderson in Triplicity; photo by John David West

Triplicity is a quieter piece than some of the Talking Band’s more overtly political work.  But it’s as diverting as a warm afternoon in Christopher Park.  The plot’s interlacing threads work as a reminder that ultimately we are in this life together.  The limited run is at Mabou Mines, a comfortable six row house at 122CC, 150 First Avenue between 9th and 10th Streets.  The performance schedule is Mondays and Wednesdays – Saturdays at 7pm with matinees Sundays at 2pm and an additional 2pm performance on Saturday, October 25. Running time is 70 minutes without intermission.  Tickets are $30/$40 and available for purchase at www.talkingband.org/triplicity.

Bowl EP

I am not young, black, gay, or well acquainted with club drugs. What I am is a fierce advocate for theater as an art and communication form. Being in a performance space filled with 20-somethings who are stomping, clapping, hooting, and laughing, even while relating strongly to Morales trying to feel like an ice cream cone, was thrilling. That was my recent experience at a matinee of Nazareth Hassan’s Bowl EP, a joint production of Vineyard Theatre and National Black Theatre in association with The New Group.

If you are a fossil like me, you remember Extended Plays or EPs as the record albums comprised of a few songs. These days they are used by artists to stay on the charts while they are working on larger musical projects.  Bowl EP begins with short “tracks,” the titles of which are projected around the sides of the “bowl,” an empty swimming pool that Quentavius da Quitter (Oghenero Gbaje) and Kelly K Klarkson  (Essence Lotus) use for skateboarding… and other activities.  Similar to that short form, the scenes are performed by the same pair, but don’t firmly connect in style or content.

Also like an EP, much of what the two say to each other has more of the quality of song lyrics than naturalistic dialogue: abstract and disconnected, yet deeply emotional. They never call each other by name and there are no characters listed in the program.  They talk very little about their lives away from this space as if there is no meaningful world away from the bowl.   It’s even hard to tell how long they’ve known each other.  The exchanges do produce a recurring cycle: flirtation, overt sexuality, and comic relief as they try come up with a name for their nascent rap duo.  Their “yums” are quite different, but each one is greeted with acceptance.

At a turning point Kelly — bedecked in wrap skirt over jeans and a sparkling baby-T (costumes by DeShon Elem) — mentions a cathartic therapy session during which she was able to vomit up her demon and become her.  Then during an intensely intimate act she is able to do the same for Quint.  The demon expelled into the pool is the high energy Lemon Pepper Wings (Felicia Curry).  From here, this pan-gender all-knowing character with oversized anime head, pink and purple frills, beat up teddybear backpack and a heart shaped tailed, takes over.  The rapid “tunes” are replaced by a relentless tirade akin to a drum solo as he/she/they shares Quint and Kelly’s relationship past and future in gory detail, personally involving the audience as well.  (Shout out to the stage managers who facilitate the magic.)

Essence Lotus and Oghenero Gbaje in Bowl EP; Photo by Carol Rosegg

Much thought has gone into transforming the venue for this unusual work.  Seating is in the round and blocked off from the stage with chain link fencing.  Playwright Hassan follows the flow of his words in the actors’ movement accented by Teniece Divya Johnson’s fight and intimacy choreography.  Scenic design team Adam Rigg & Anton Volovsek have created a gorgeous curvaceous pool in peaceful sea-foam complete with useful ladders and a diving board to contain the ferocity of the action.  Kate McGee’s lighting simulates street lamps and headlights until the colorful shift to the unconscious.  The projections as designed by Zavier Augustus Lee Taylor telegraph the intensity and vibe of each beat with the formation of the lettering.  Music by Judah “Free Fool” Girvan caps the undertaking, even effectively incorporating some of the lyrics devised in earlier chapters.

Intentionally and undeniably different, Bowl EP continues through June 22 at the Vineyard Theatre, 108 East 15th near Union Square.  Runtime is 80 minutes without intermission. Tickets are available at https://vineyardtheatre.org/shows/bowl/  beginning at $37.80.  Seating is unique and a look at the chart is helpful in selecting your preferred location.  ADA seating is available in the North section.  A joint fundraising initiative is striving to provide tickets to first-time theatergoers, though if this production was on film the content would likely be rated M for violence and sexuality. The venue continues to offer two masked performances per run, honoring their commitment to make theater accessible to everyone.

HOTHOUSE

Fringe Festivals are known for launching imaginative artists and exploring unconventional art forms.  Content is uncensored and therefore often provocative, sometimes to the point of discomfort.  Those traits are true of HOTHOUSE, a performance work from 2023’s Dublin Fringe.  Written by Carys D. Coburn (co-founder of the award-winning collective, Malaprop), the theatrical statement piece loosely strings together generational abuse, repressed feelings, and Rachel Carson’s 1962 book Silent Spring, which led to the discontinued use of DDT in farming and the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency.  

Ebby O’Toole Acheampong , Maeve O’Mahony, Peter Corboy, Thommas Kane Byrne, and
Bláithín Mac Gabhann in HOTHOUSE; Photo by Nir Arieli

Entering the well-raked, friendly JL Greene Theatre, we are greeted with a medley of “bird” songs from Bye Bye Birdie to Bird is the Word.  This motif continues into Section 1, a performance within a performance on the cruise ship Crystal Prophecy.  Scenes from the life of Ruth — a young girl growing up in an abusive household who finds solace in Carson’s writing — are played out in cabaret style.  Periodically a species of Las Vegas Showgirl “bird” goes dramatically extinct with a little help from the Captain.  The palette and mood tonally shift in Section 2 as our Captain undergoes a “shamanic transformation.” It is the near future and Ruth’s daughter, Ali, is a passenger cruising on the Crystal Prophecy to see the last of the ice caps.  The epilogue moves us further forward into a time when Annie’s great grandson is growing up in a new normal.  Years are displayed boldly within the burning sun stage left to help us keep track.

The family functions more as a container for Coburn’s thoughts on our rapidly changing world, with issues overtaking narrative and character development.  Along the path we hit stock Irish cultural touchstones from whiskey to Enya.  That doesn’t stop the ensemble from quite literally leaving it all on the floor.  For the full 90 minutes, they work as a unit: dancing, singing, and switching roles in an array of campy life-vest orange costumes designed by Molly O’Cathain from the original Irish production and fabulous wigs by Carina Metz from the U.S.creative team.  Director Claire O’Reilly, a Malaprop co-founder, ignores gender and age in leveraging the talent.  The way she stages a flurry of activity towards the end of Section 2 is particularly clever.  Peter Corboy’s Captain functions as the rudder with Thommas Kane Byrne the most fluttery of the sails.  Maeve O’Mahony (another Malaprop co-founder), Bláithín Mac Gabhann, and Ebby O’Toole-Acheampong breathe life into characters who are tragically emotionally out to sea even on dry land.  While it is unlikely you will whistle any of Anna Clock’s songs upon leaving the theater, the tunes do work to connect the various jigsaw pieces.  

Even with little that would pass as realistic dialogue, HOTHOUSE is certain to spark conversation.  Though short on structure, it is long on dizzying feeling and visual impact (The original festival iteration won for Best Ensemble and Best Production Design.)  The North American debut runs through November 17 at the Irish Arts Center, 726 11th Avenue.  Tickets start at $25 and can be purchased at https://irishartscenter.org/event/malaprop-hothouse.  

Six Characters

When theater-goers hear “Six Characters,” they expect them to be in search of an author.  But the half dozen who populate Six Characters, a new theatrical by Phillip Howze currently running at Lincoln Center, are in search of deserved attention, Italian tailoring, an equitable theater community, additional paid vacation, a through-line between scenes, a tolerant audience and, in the case of “the slave,” a really good book.  Howze concepts are ambitious, but the experience is less like attending a fully formed play and more like a 2AM doom scroll through Instagram.

While sitting in the Claire Tow bar area enjoying a theme drink — a mood-setter that might make you more receptive to the edgy content ahead — you will be offered a yellow bracelet if you’re open to being a participant.  You’ll be confronted no matter your answer since the Lincoln Center audience is repeatedly called out for supporting the white dominance of performing arts with houselights ablaze.  This piece kicks, scratches, punches, and admonishes, but without a cohesive narrative or genuine depth, little of it lands.  The overarching aim appears to be making everyone in the room uncomfortable with the messages and the messengers.  This would be more effective if we weren’t already feeling rubbed raw by current events and Howze had a clearer target.

No one can fault the commitment of the cast who must ride the bumpy waves of the script.  Julian Robertson is The Director, who starts off on an unfamiliar stage trying to corral an unruly troop of strangers.  They are led by the blustery Sassafras, played with boundless energy by Claudia Logan.  She is joined by her former boyfriend (Will Cobbs), a baby-faced younger man named Newman (CG), a runaway Slave who calls herself Road (Seven F.B. Duncombe) and the theater’s janitor (Seret Scott).  Scott is given the most to work with in her embodiment of all those who hold three jobs and yet remain invisible.  And Robertson has a sense of majesty that surfaces even when he is physically tied down.

Seret Scott and Julian Robertson in Six Characters at LCT.
Photo by Marc J. Franklin

Six Characters may be short on story, but it is long on atmosphere.  Starting off on a bare stage, the piece becomes increasingly visually interesting.  Director Dustin Wills — who has collaborated with Howze before —keeps finding ways to constrain his people even in this wide open space.  Regulars of LCT in particular will appreciate the wit infused in Wills’ set design, most notably at the top of Act II.  Each of the characters is given layers of fakery and playfulness to literally try on by costumer Montana Levi Blanco.  And the sound by Christopher Darbassie is relentless even during intermission.

Steps are being taken in boardrooms and on leadership teams throughout the American theater world to make space for a variety of voices and viewpoints.  And just as there is no such thing as a “Black job” (a line that was likely added in the last few days) no play should be labeled a color.  But Howze does a disservice to Six Characters and to a willing audience by leaving us feeling exhausted, peering out a tiny window with no sense of a healthy way forward.  

Six Characters run through August 25th at the Claire Tow Theater in Lincoln Center, 150 West 65th Street.  All tickets are $33 including fees, though the Telecharge interface is poorly designed and frustrating to use.  Runtime is 2 hours and 10 minutes including intermission.  The lobby and roof top deck open one hour before curtain. 

Shimmer and Herringbone

At the opening of its full and fleeting 85 minutes, Shimmer and Herringbone introduces us to a range of people each trying on a pile of clothing and judging themselves in a mirror.  It’s a familiar dance with capes and belts as unhelpful partners.  Their search is not just for the right look, but the right feeling; one they might just find at the titular vintage clothing store.  

With witty and insightful rapid-fire exchanges written by Ellen Maddow (who appears within the play as Rhonda, the over-sharing dressing room lady) and Paul Zimet (who directs with deep understanding), the play is located in a city sophisticated enough to be home to a semi-famous soap actor (Jack Wetherall), a townhouse-owning retired teacher (James Tigger! Ferguson), and the aforementioned boutique.  But it is also small enough to enable the chance encounters and meaningful interactions that only happen in a true neighborhood.  Maddow also wrote the music played by a live string trio (Rachel Feldhaus, Marija Kovacevic, and Agustin Uriburu who good-naturedly appear on stage and fully participate) which the characters acknowledge as the soundtrack to their actions.  In their lightest moments, they are moved to dance in celebration, guided by choreographer Sean Donovan.

From details in the dialogue, the story is unfolding shortly after the toughest winter of the pandemic.  Residents are no longer wearing masks of the N95 variety, but they are still veiled.  Their outfits shape how they feel about themselves and also how they wish to be perceived by others.  Each is slightly oddball, but utterly endearing.  We meet Louise Smith’s Grace, a real estate agent who is forever staging her surroundings, and her former best friend Lizzie Olesker’s Lilly, an ornithologist who seems to relate quite strongly to the pigeons she studies.  There is also Lilly’s struggling entrepreneur daughter Bree (Ebony Davis) and Bree’s possible business partner, a former actress named Melanie played by Talking Band co-founder Tina Shepard.  The actors seem to be having a blast and the audience is tickled just to be in their company.

James Tigger! Ferguson, Louise Smith and Lizzie Olesker; photo by Maria Baranova

The true star of the show is arguably Serbian costume designer Olivera Gajic.  She has stocked the central store and surrounding closets with a delightful and nearly indescribable wardrobe.  Our attention is further captured by the deceptively simple set and revealing videos of Anna Kiraly.  Additional color is brought forth by Mary Ellen Stebbins’s lighting.

Like a small scale and less mysterious Tales of the City, Shimmer and Herringbone is above all about self-acceptance and living comfortably in ones own skin.  It also provides a humorous and uplifting visit with literally colorful characters who form a most-welcome community.  A creation of the 50 year old interdisciplinary company, Talking Band, this play with music continues through May 19 at Mabou Mines’ Second Floor Theater at 122CC, at 150 First Avenue near Saint Marks Square in Manhattan. Performances take place Wednesday – Saturday at 7pm and Sundays at 2pm.  Tickets are $30-$35 and can be purchased at https://talkingband.org/works/shimmer-and-herringbone/.

True Community Theater: The LA Poverty Dept

Post pandemic, there’s been an uptick in conversations around the relationship between community and the theater.  Concerns have risen as regional theaters have reduced their offerings or closed altogether.  So when I was invited to a discussion entitled “How Theater Serves Community, and Community Serves Theater” I quickly signed up.  The event was being hosted by Bob Ost of Theater Resources Unlimited (TRU), a supportive group of playwrights, producers, writers and promoters.  Their COVID-motivated move to Zoom in April of 2020 has so far resulted in 175 conversation involving many TRU associates who live outside the New York City area where the organization was founded.  Although the evening was not what I had expected from the subject line, it was fascinating and ultimately quite moving.  

The guest speaker, John Malpede, heads up an unusual ensemble.  He is the Artistic Director of Los Angeles Poverty Department (LAPD, a deliberately stinging abbreviation).  The members of his ever-changing troupe are homeless.  The company grew out of Malpede’s meetings with activists from skid row and has been nurtured using his experiences gained in workshops throughout lower Manhattan.  He originally moved to the west coast to do outreach for the Inner City Law Center, and found overlap with his in-the-moment listening skills developed as as a performance artist.  Built on a firm foundation of compassion and Malpede’s knowing approach, the LAPD has continued to thrive for over 30 years.  For many, their participation in the project has been literally life changing.  

Malpede keeps the productions inclusive, which is a balm to those who are used to being marginalized or completely ignored.  With an open heart as well as open ears, he is able to tap into their natural creativity.  Most works start by improvising around an agreed-upon scenario.  This way even those with poor reading skills can be involved.  The process evolves like a huge trust-building excise with the constituents.   In lieu of a dedicated venue, the neighborhood has offered up offices, computer rooms, and other shared spaces that are available rent free usually after hours. No tickets are sold and promotion is almost exclusively through word of mouth.  Financial support comes through community grants, humanitarian support, and in-kind contributions.

The LAPD circa 2018; photo courtesy of The 18th Street Arts Center of Santa Monica

Most shows begin as a riff around a current high profile issue.  Representative Maxine Waters gave LAPD a transcript from a congressional hearing which they were able to perform in the style of Is This A RoomBack Nine grew from a movement to rezone a golf course, which raised awareness about the impact the elimination of public land has on the homeless.  State of Incarceration, which was presented in the Queens Museum in New York City, explored prison overcrowding by having the performers literally pressing in around the audience, referred to as “the witnesses”.  Their most recognized show was the B-movie style No Stone for Studs Schwarz. Inspired by the killing of several homeless people who had been sleeping on the streets near Chinatown, it featured a cast of 15. There was no “hard” script, so the outcome was slightly different each night, lending a genuine quality to every viewing. It ran for nearly a year, achieving a cult following.

For some participants, the LAPD theater program works as a springboard to a new chapter in their lives.  A paralegal is able to learn more about their issues and help them gain entry into the right city programs.  Still others have stayed with the population in order to improve policies and conditions for the unhoused.  Visit LAPovertyDept.org  if you would like to learn more about this extraordinary group or watch one of their programs.  To receive the Zoom invitation for future TRU meetings, email TRUnltd@aol.com with “Zoom Me” in the subject header.  There is a small attendance fee for non-TRU members.

Lynn Nottage on Mlima’s Tale

Playwright Lynn Nottage is seemingly everywhere.  Her wide appeal and astonishing tonal range stretch from the gut-wrenching Ruined to the broad humor of By the Way, Meet Vera Stark.  Two of her plays — Clyde’s and Sweat — are among the ten most produced of this year’s season.  The operatic version of her drama, Intimate Apparel, for which she wrote the libretto, is currently on PBS as part of their Great Performances series.  And she wrote the book for the Michael Jackson jukebox musical, MJ, now playing on Broadway. Her long reach is made possible in part by a form of self-care.  She gives herself a mental break from covering thornier issues by simultaneously writing a comedy.  

Last Thursday in an evening co-presented by the Center for Fiction in Brooklyn and Theatre Communications Group (TCG), the two-time Pulitzer Prize winner sat down for her first conversation with Damon Tabor.  The investigative journalist wrote an article, “The Ivory Highway,” that inspired her play Mlima’s Tale.  He had tracked the intertwined entities responsible for the horrendous international ivory trade.  Offenders include poachers, smugglers and all-too-knowing buyers.  Moved by what she read in his piece, Nottage buried herself in research. It revealed a genuine possibility of a world without elephants and she felt the need to sound an alarm.  She educated herself about the communication style of elephants, especially their deeply social nature.  Eventually she developed a story from the viewpoint of a rare big-tusker, beginning with his murder and following the trail through all of those who were complicit in his death.  She named him Mlima, Swahili for mountain.

The script is structured as a series of one-on-one conversations illustrating the chain as Mlima’s tusks move from one possessor to the next.  Always one for putting a face on an issue, Nottage had the lead character of Mlima portrayed by a human actor.  This enabled her to let him more easily communicate to the audience and bring his emotions fully into the room.  Rather than using the traditional approach of hiring the production crew after the cast had begun their work, Nottage brought the entire team together from day one, resulting in a more cohesive artistic statement.  Oscar winning director, Kathryn Bigelow, brought her genuine outrage and big picture thinking to the initial run-throughs.  The impactful concept of having Mlima physically leave his mark on all the perpetrators by smearing them in white came from costume designer Jennifer Moeller. 

Mlima’s Tale, was nominated by the Outer Critics Circle in several categories when New York’s Public Theater presented the world premiere in 2018 under the direction of Jo Bonney.  The book can be purchased here: https://shop.aer.io/tcg/p/Mlimas_Tale/9781559369114-9511. Performances are currently playing at 1st Stage in Tysons, Virginia and due to open soon at the Arsht Center in Miami, Florida.  Productions are also being prepared internationally, though significantly not in China where the ivory trade still flourishes.

Image: Ito Aghayere, Sahr Ngaujah and Kevin Mambo in the 2018 World Premiere of Mlima’s Tale.  © Joan Marcus.