Holiday meanderings

I know I haven't been blogging much lately, primarily because I've been doing a lot of writing elsewhere. It certainly hasn't been because I haven't been seeing show or because I have nothing to say about theater.

Nutcracker and Holiday Music

This time of year is filled with events. Theater is about as busy as usual, but other things ramp up--choral concerts, dance concerts, and instrumental concerts. I've felt extremely blessed this year to be able to attend many events. As I wrote earlier, I saw the Nutcracker for the first time this year--and I've gotten to see it twice. Both productions were gorgeous and both were quite different from each other. It is impressive how much work and preparation goes into putting on a production that is made to look so effortless.

I was also able to attend the Home for the Holidays concert sponsored by the MSU College of Music. It was a delightful evening filled with performances by the Men's and Women's Glee Club, the Lansing Symphony Orchestra, and the MSU Children's Choir.

Hymn and Carol
I also truly enjoyed BoarsHead's Christmas play. It was a quirky piece that brought together individualized scenes and beautiful singing It was reminiscent of a Christmas cantata. There were some complaints that the musical was too religious. It's a complaint I find a bit odd given that the topic was Christmas. It is, after all, a religious holiday. I would find it odd if I went to a play about Ramadan and found it to be secular. So why would we demand that a play about a Christian holiday be secular?

Religion has always been a topic that art treats upon. If we suddenly decide that religion belongs only in the churches, then we've invalidated a large percentage of art through the ages. Art should help us explore religious topics just as religion should encourage art. If the two aren't twin siblings, they are at least cousins. Art and religion both help us to explore the unknown, to examine the human soul, to determine what it means to be human. They also both challenge us to think about what we believe in and why. They offer us ideas that we may disagree with and challenge us to think about why we disagree.

So needless to say, it didn't bother me that the play had strong religious overtones or that it told the Christmas story. Whether you agree with it or not, it's still an amazing story.

A co-worker of mine attended the show the week before I did and he pointed out that while he enjoyed many of the sketches, he didn't feel that they tied together well. As we talked about the show, we kept mentioning the things that we liked--the satire of Harod's spin doctors, the detached power of Shariesse Hamilton's monologue about her dead child, the rapt expression of Mary (Lara Bidus) in the dress shop, and the amusing comic sketch about the prophets. When it came down to it, though, he said he thought that the parts added up to more than the sum. He liked all the pieces, but wasn't sure what he was left with when it was all put together.

Well, Christmas errands call, so this blog entry is going to end. If I can, I'll be back to write about some of the other shows I've seen including Starlight's Christmas Belles.

Request for Help

I'm working on a story for the LSJ about how to keep the arts in your life during hard economic times--when your budget is tight and spare cash hard to come by.

I'd like to be able to interview someone who has been or is unemployed and continues to visit art galleries, attend concerts, go to shows, etc. If this describes you or someone you know, and if you (or the person you know) would be willing to be interviewed and to share tips on how to continue to have the arts in your life during hard economic times, could you please contact me? You can leave a comment on this blog or e-mail me at bredman.lsj@gmail.com

If anyone else has any suggestions or tips, those would also be welcome.

Have something to say?

For those who would like to express an official opinion on the layoffs of the Lansing State Journal and the entire NOISE staff and what that is going to mean for arts coverage in the area, you might want to follow this link.

And here are the guidelines they provide:

Letters must be 175 words or fewer. Include address and telephone number for verification purposes only. Letters are subject to editing.

Letters to the editor, opinion and Viewpoints columns, and articles submitted to the State Journal may be published or distributed in print, electronic or other forms.

Viewpoints: Do you wish to write a 500-word opinion on a topic of general interest? Send it to Derek Melot at dmelot@lsj.com.

Memory Jog

I need a memory jog.

Someone once told me about a group of women who get together for lunch every week and talk about theater. Does anyone reading this blog know who any of those women might be?

Tribute to Mike Hughes

The voice of arts and entertainment coverage in Lansing since 1974 has been, without question, Mike Hughes, the arts and entertainment writer for the Lansing State Journal. Nor could we claim him as simply our own. The articles he wrote on all angles of popular culture were picked up by wire services and run in newspapers around the nation. When I told arts writers from around the country that I freelanced for the Lansing State Journal, Mike was always the name they knew.

Yesterday, Gannett had another round of massive layoffs and Mike Hughes, their veteran reporter and a driven and prolific writer, was let go. Along with Mike, the staff of the NOISE was also let go as were others.

When I first arrived in the State Journal newsroom back in the early 90s, I was focused on news and was only vaguely aware of Mike. As a member of the copy desk, my work day started after his ended. But I knew who he was because his was the desk piled high with papers. I would learn over the years, it was because Mike's beat was pretty wide and his desk was full because his work load was tremendous.

After I left the LSJ and slowly became a part of the theater community, I became more and more aware of Mike as he was one of the few voices consistently covering the arts. His passion was obviously for television and movies, but he knew the theater community and was a constant and consistent voice for them.

He was also very enthusiastic about my writing a performing arts column and was always supportive. While Robin did most of the coordinating, Mike and I would talk occasionally about who would write about what and he was always a big advocate of groups getting more coverage. He has a very generous nature and even after 30 years remained curious and interested about local arts and art organizations.

Mike was also the chair of the Thespie Committee. More than that, it was his baby. He selected judges, determined the process, and was a living memory of every Thespie meeting. He was also our tie-breaker. It was during these meetings that I had the opportunity to meet Mike on a personal level and during which my respect for him grew.

Mike was not only one of the most productive and prolific local entertainment writers, but he was also the most upbeat. He is constantly cheerful, always has a smile, and could burst out with one of those great laughs that made you want to join him.

I know that arts and entertainment writers are being culled from newsrooms around the country. It's short-sighted on the part of corporate news companies who consistently prove how very out of touch they are with the next generation, which they seem to think are interested exclusively in beer and fashion.

I don't know what will happen with the arts coverage at the Lansing State Journal. What I do know is that the loss of Mike Hughes as their arts and entertainment reporter is a blow to the entire community.

Mike, I wish you well. It has been an honor to work with you and I hope to continue to see you around town.

Dance concerts

For each of the past two Sunday afternoons, my family has gone to a dance production--both very different from each other and both equally rewarding.

Beyond the Borders

Two weeks ago, we attended the Habibi Dancer's Beyond the Borders concert which was a fundraiser for Riverwalk Theatre. They were one of the first outside groups to perform on Riverwalk's stage when they first opened, so the 50th anniversary committee wanted them to come back again for their celebratory year.

For that concert, Habibi and guest choreographers chose to stretch beyond some of their more traditional fare and to take risks with some more unusal dances. In each case, it paid off. There was a fantastic number in which a solo dancer came out with a picnic basket and proceeded to dance atop three glasses. It was an impressive feat made all the more enjoyable by the dancer's delightful stage presence in which she flirted with the audience and engaged in an entertaining storytelling dance style.

The troupe's artistic director also danced a fascinating number with a large, live snake. It was mesmerizing to watch and the snake never missed a step. ;)

As always, I was struck by the diversity of the Habibi dancers--diversity expressed in so many different ways. There were dancers of all ages, colors, and sizes and all of them were beautiful in their own way.

The Nutcracker

For many people, seeing the Nutcracker is an annual tradition. Many of the dancers I've interviewed over the years have said it wouldn't feel like the holidays to them if they weren't participating in The Nutcracker in some form or another.

Despite the multitude of shows that I attend each year and despite having a husband who loves the ballet and used to treat me on Valentine's Day with tickets, I had never actually seen the Nutcracker. Not until this past Sunday, that is.

On Sunday afternoon, our whole family headed off to the Wharton through the snow-bedecked skies to where the Children's Ballet Theatre was performing Tchaikovsky's classic ballet. It was an amazing experience and I was enchanted and moved. Indeed, there were points I was so swept away by the beauty of it all that I was moved to tears. Nor was I the only one in my family who had that experience.

Two Hours

Afterward, I found myself wondering what a different world we might have if everyone were able to experience live something of such breathtaking beauty for at least two hours every week. We often consider the arts as a luxurious expendable. Something "extra." Certainly that has been our civic policy.

Yet, few will argue against the benefits of art and research continues to show new benefits to art--whether it is that those who listen to classical music regularly live longer and have healthier hearts or whether it is that high school students who participate in a single school theatrical production are substantially less likely to be racist than their peers.

So as people continue to predict that the economic times are going to worsen, what can we do to keep arts alive in our lives? How can we make sure that as we meet our physical needs that we are also meeting our emotional and spiritual needs?

The arts enrich our lives. They are not, though, a luxury.

Random, semi-connected thoughts

This week/weekend, I want to experience:

• Mozart
  
• Belly dancing
  
• Health retreats
  
• Shakespeare
  
• Drumming
  
• D&D
  
• Singing
  
• Sondheim
  
• Figaro
  
• Saxophone
  
• Godspell
  
• Elementary school dancers
  

And if I plan it right, I just might get to all of those things.

(And yes, I did cheat in that some of those bullets refer to more than one event.)

Power of a Good Director

This weekend, I saw renewed evidence of the difference a good director can make in the performance of an actor.

There is a performer that I have seen multiple times over the years. She's quite skilled and is willing to take risks and be big. However, more often than not, her performances have annoyed me because no matter what the role she's had, she's always played it so that the focus was on her, regardless of the story. When there was a choice to be made, the choice was always made for the cheap laugh rather than for the more authentic storytelling that can have a deeper effect on the audience.

What I saw her perform this weekend was the best that I'd ever seen her do. She took all of her wealth of acting skills and talent and performed in a disciplined fashion. By cutting back and doing less, she put in a powerhouse, memorable performance.

Much of the credit for this goes to the actor herself, but I would also guess that one of the reasons she blossomed in this show was because she had the benefit of a very strong director, one who worked with her and helped her to perform as a part of the play rather than simply be amused by the bits and business that this creative performer was able to produce.

It is said that stage is an actor's medium whereas film is a director's medium. Perhaps so, but even on stage, directors are able to make incredible differences in individual performers when they are skilled at teaching and the actor is responsive to the direction.

The Early Girl (again)

So,I've been thinking about the production of Caroline Kava's "The Early Girl" since I saw it on Monday.** And, yes, if you didn't take my advice to go see it, you're out of luck now because it ran for only two nights.

It's one of those interesting plays that you don't see done much. I find it curious that it is so rarely done given that it is a single-set show, is very well written, is a fascinating character study, and deals with issues of employment that many people can relate to.

If I had to speculate on why this show, written in 1986, is so rarely done, perhaps it is because people are uncomfortable with the idea that the work they do could be compared to the work done by prostitutes. Or perhaps it is because these prostitutes tend to defy the usual stereotypes. They aren't all tragic and they aren't all alike. They aren't all hardened and each of them have very distinct personalities. Nor are they all mass produced from the "prostitute with a heart of gold" mold.

There were several themes in the show, but the one I found most interesting was the exploration of why people stay in a job that is soulless, exhausting, and dangerous. The reasons were different for each of the five girls and the madam, but they were ones that are by no means restricted to the profession of prostitutes. One was addicted to shopping and material things, one thought she was in love with one of the customers, the other had a child to support, and the madam was intoxicated with the idea of success and glamor.

Perhaps one of the most interesting things about the play was how it did not deliver on the expectations that the audience has about a play set in a whorehouse. The types of drama and tragedy were very human and not the type of tragedy that we expect when sitting smugly in our respectable jobs. Rather, they were the same type of dramas and struggles that any worker in any type of position must deal with.

Because it was a dark night production, the second company had to work with the set of the mainstage show--which in this case was the basement apartment of "All Childish Things." Richard joked that it was going to be a play about the best little whorehouse on Tatooine. Thankfully, one pretty quickly looked past the set. The main challenge was something that Richard said he came to love--the fact that the only entrance was up and down a flight of stairs. While it made the play a very aerobic workout for the actresses, it also created in a dramatic, unspoken way the sense of how exhausting their work was. Yes, they tell you that they are servicing 37 johns in a night, but the constant pounding up and down the stairs reinforced it.

While there were solid performances put in from everyone, I was especially impressed with the honest performance put in by Lara Bidus. She was cynical, but not hardened; aggressive, but not harsh. She also portrayed a vulnerability that only occasionally slipped out.

Knowing that Meghan Nystrom was recovering from mono and was still struggling with nose and throat issues, made the strength and energy she put into her performance particularly impressive.

Nor could the madam have been played more perfectly and with more strength than what was done by Cassie Little. She could have given any corporate executive a run for their money when it came to personnel management techniques, competitive motivational manipulations, and strict control of time off, pay, personal calls, and workplace rules.

I enjoyed the play that night and would have liked to have seen it Election Night if I wasn't already booked for Frost/Nixon (which was also an excellent experience, but you can read about my views on that show here.) I do believe that the reason this show is not staged more often can be tied to the fact that it is simply too uncomfortable for most of us to find so much similarity between the choices we make in our workplace and the choices made by working girls.

**OK, when I first started writing this blog entry, it was still the week that the play ran. I've gotten a little behind in posting.

"All Childish Things" and "Leaving Iowa"

This weekend is the final opportunity to catch both "All Childish Things" at BoarsHead and "Leaving Iowa" at Williamston. Both are shows well worth seeing. If you want to read some reviews on them, there have been several:

All Childish Things:

• Ken Glickman's review in the Lansing State Journal
• Don Calamia's review at Encore Michigan (scroll down a ways) (This is also the review in which I most frequently found myself nodding in agreement. Perhaps because we went on the same night.)
  
• Len Kluge's review at the City Pulse
• Jim Fordyce's review at Michigan Entertainment
  

Leaving Iowa

• Kate O'Neill's review in the Lansing State Journal
• Robert Bethune's review at Encore Michigan (scroll down)
• Yana Levovna's review in the City Pulse
• Jim Fordyce's review at Michigan Entertainment

So with links to all the reviews of my professional colleagues out of the way, I'm going to write a little about some of the things that struck me with each show.

All Childish Things

There was so much about this show to love. Yes, it helps that I was a child of the 70s and 80s and remember the thrill of these shows coming out. The four characters on stage are my contemporaries and it is easy to relate to them and to their passions (even though I never was a collector, believing that toys were for playing with).

I know I just compared the last BoarsHead show (Permanent Collection) to this musical, but bear with me as I do the same to this play. I was reminded (for a different reason) of Avenue
Q again, even though the what is a major theme in the musical is a secondary one in All Childish Things. In both productions, the characters are wondering what has happened to their lost idealism and whether there is anything but cynicism in their future.

All Childish Things is a very funny play, but it is also a very touching one. I was especially impressed how playwright Joseph Zettelmaier was able to use the Star Wars series on multiple levels. There was the overt, obvious way in which it was in all of the dialog, the plot, and the set. But there were also thematic and structural echoes with moments of predictability being used the same way they appeared in the films. It made for a brilliant script that was filled with secretive winks and invitations to listen even more closely.

I had a blast at the show. Yes, there was fine acting in it. Yes, Aral Gribble was at the top of his game and Jason Richards, Brian Thibault, Molly Thomas and Keith Allan Kalinowski also turned in excellent performances. Yes, the set was a perfect basement that brought smiles to geeks everywhere. But it was ultimately the fact that I was moved to feel hope and optimism, that I felt the playwright was able to reveal what mattered most in a materialistic and sometimes shallow world, that made the evening one I am grateful for. There were moments during the climax that made my eyes water because of how perfectly the play captured the importance of friendship, loyalty, and holding on to dreams.

Leaving Iowa

Leaving Iowa was in many ways in the same vein as All Childish Things. It was also one of those plays in which you are constantly laughing--until it is time to cry. Unlike the BoarsHead show, though, this is a show I would recommend taking the entire family to. Yes, there is some minor language, but it is relatively rare and is more than made up for by the delightful family themes and interactions throughout the play.

I suppose it had particular poignancy for us this year because of both my grandfather's and my father-in-law's deaths this past year. It was a short trip to the reminiscences of past family vacations and on the drive home from Williamston after seeing the show, our son was regaled with tales from both of his parents of what family car vacations were like. Richard talked about how organized his father was with the AAA triptychs and every portion of the trip planned out. He was part of a large family and they would often sprawl out in the back of the station wagon on longer trips (this was in the days before children wore seatbelts). I recollected how we called every round haystack a "Snuffleofagous" and how my brother loved to count overpasses--especially when I was trying to read.

It was the beauty of "Leaving Iowa" that it brought out memories and gave our family something to share beyond what was seen on the stage. And for days afterward, our son would burst out with one quote or other from the play.

For the actors playing the two children, John Lepard and Teri Clark Linden, it was a return to a show they had done years ago at Purple Rose. Linden very nearly stole the show, she was so very animated and delightful to watch. She easily had the role that was the most fun.

Another powerful aspect of the show was the relationship between the father (Hugh Maguire) and Don (Lepard). Rarely did they speak directly to one another, but there was a bond of love, guilt, and affection that was almost visible. In scenes where Lepard's character spoke to his father's ashes, Director Tony Caselli placed Maguire on stage, silently watching and actively listening. It created a powerful, compelling mood.

Like all Williamston shows, this one paid attention to detail. The set was sparse, but it was the sparseness that made it rich in the imagination of the audience and allowed for them to create multiple locations with only a few chairs.

Leaving Iowa is very definitely a feel-good show, the kind that reminds you that good family theater extends beyond fairy tales and musicals.