Today i had a chat with Julius form CX magazine. We have reached an agreement to share content from each others web sites and also I will be writing the occasional article for CX magazine. This is indeed good news and was totally un-expected. I started this blog for the love and now others are loving what I am doing and giving me the support to continue with my writing in this area. Thank you to my loyal readers I hope to get more. Fell free to subscribe to this blog and recieve updates in your email. And thanks Julius for also believing in what I do.

With the Whingers’ stars so clearly in the ascendant (whatever that means) it seems only natural that the next development in their tale should be the formation of a West End Whingers religion complete with tax-free status and wine (although neither Whinger can get very excited about wafers, to be honest).

So it was that Andrew was packed off to the Orange Tree Theatre on Monday to see the satire on organised religion The Making Of Moo and take careful notes on how to go about building a new religion from scratch.

Why alone? Well, one has to admire the Orange Tree’s courage in admitting that it is “London’s only permanent theatre in the round” but there’s no way they are going to get Phil through their doors with that kind of honesty. Or perhaps it’s deliberate. Who knows? In the event it all turned out for the best as it transpires that the Orange Tree doesn’t permit drinks to be taken into the auditorium and the air would have turned quite blue had Phil been in attendance.

Anyway, Nigel Dennis’s play was originally produced at the Royal Court in 1957 and boasted Joan Plowright, George Devine and John Osborne among the players. The Orange Tree’s revival understandably can’t drum up a similarly stellar cast list but they attack the slightly creaky play with gusto.

The story concerns British engineer Frederick Compton (Philip York) who in building a dam in an unspecified colony has unwittingly drowned one of the local gods. Fearing the ramifications of leaving a country godless he and his wife (Amanda Royle) conspire to create a new god – Moo – to help restore law and order but it all gets rather out of hand.

It’s a funny old play which viewed 50 years later seems rather lopsided – satirising organised religion while seemingly rather blithe with regard to its colonial setting. If it fails to pack quite the punch it did that must surely be because in a world where Hollywood stars believe that 75 million years ago Xenu brought billions of people to Earth in spacecraft resembling Douglas DC-8 airliners, stacked them around volcanoes and detonated hydrogen bombs in the volcanoes. prompting the thetans to cluster together, stuck to the bodies of the living, Moo seems a rather plausible and benign religion. And the Church of the Whingers doesn’t seem like such a crazy idea either. Watch this space.

*A note on this entry: The Dekeyser & Friends project I’m on is all about inspiration.  I hope this blog entry, and many others that I attempt to write as honestly as possible, are never construed as “anti-inspirational” or worse: depressing.  From sadness comes growth, and from growth comes inspiration.  I’ll get there someday.  Happy reading.

First: Thoughts From The Night Of

Trying to make sense of life in Turkey is, well, like trying to make sense of life in Turkey: sort of impossible.  In America, you work hard and you get rewarded.  At least that’s more or less how my life has played out thus far.  Perhaps I’ve just been fortunate and have always worked hard at things I would have succeeded at anyway.  But the spirit is there.

In Turkey, or in the Land of Mustafa Erdoğan, you work hard and, well, you just work hard.  Reward comes if you prove yourself.  The hours you sweat- Wait. Let me get real here.  The hours I’ve sweat in my pajamas, going over and over choreography, mean nothing.  The hours I’ve spent grabbing every passing dancer, and saying, “Watch. Tell me what’s wrong,” and then correcting, mean nothing.  The hours I’ve spent in pain, dancing through pain, stretching out pain, icing down pain, all in the hopes of dancing better tomorrow, mean nothing.  Because, in the end, I’m just not good enough.  For an American – for this American – this is very hard to grasp.

In the Land of Mustafa Erdoğan you are not allowed to cry.  No matter how much it hurts to know I’ve worked harder at this than, perhaps, anything before in my life, and yet still am not good enough.  I’m not allowed to cry.  And more than that, I’m asked to smile.  I’m told to smile.  I’m expected to smile and I do.  Even though I’m breaking inside, I smile in the studio and wonder if I’ll have the courage to work just as hard, if not harder, tomorrow.

Second: Thoughts From The Day After

At first, the let-down pushed me toward more work: “I’m not good enough now.  But if I work hard, I will be.”  But now this let-down is leading me to doubt myself: “I worked hard because I wasn’t good enough before.  But I’m still not good enough.  If this much hard work can’t get me there, maybe I’ll never be there.”

“Have I been working hard, but not working smart?  Not training with the right people?  How did the error that was uncovered two days ago go all that time without notice?  Have my teachers been ignoring my problems because I’m beyond repair?”  And with a flick of a finger, I’m transported back to where I was before I began this dance training; before I began mime school; when I felt like just a clumsy, over-sized girl.

Trying to make sense of life in the Land of Mustafa Erdoğan is like tying to make sense of life in the land of Mustafa Erdoğan: There are often no answers, even for an American who always seeks them.

*****

Like what you’ve read here? Check out Dekeyser & Friends World for more musings from abroad!

Jeudi 26 novembre à 20h30: Casse-noisette made in China

www.crochetan.ch

Mircea Eliade

Lu (avec peine ) dans le cadre du challenge à 2 euros de Cynthia

DEFYING GRAVITY: Currently thrilling all “Gleeks” (as fans of the hit FOX-TV show are called: The new Sony CD, Glee: The Music, Volume 1. Series star

MICHELE: powerhouse

Matthew Morrison (aka Mr Schu) and Wicked alumnus Kristin Chenoweth deliver a powerhouse performance of Heart’s Alone. Spring Awakening star Lea Michele duets with Chenoweth on a dynamic version of Kander & Ebb’s Maybe This Time, pairs with series co-star Chris Colfer on a soaring version of Stephen Schwartz’s Defying Gravity, and joins co-star Cory Monteith on lead vocals for Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’. Music lovers and Broadway show tune aficionados characterize this first Glee CD as “delectably youthful” and “electrifyingly fresh” — and who are we to argue? And here’s another one to add to your Christmas list. The all-star soundtrack for Rob

FERGIE: one of Nine

Marshall’s screen version of the Broadway hit Nine will be released digitally December 15 and available for purchase in stores on December 22, three days before the film opens here. Bonus material on the disc includes a new version of Quando Quando Quando, performed by Fergie, who also sings one of the show’s big hits, Be Italian. Other so-far unlikely warblers include a clutch of Oscar winners who star in the movie — Daniel Day-Lewis, Penelope Cruz, Sophia Loren, Nicole Kidman, Marion Cotillard and Judi Dench, who gets to deliver the Follies Bergere showstopper. Can’t wait.

THE SHADOW OF HER STYLE: Supertalent Camilla  Scott always delivers the goods, in big stage musicals like Crazy For You, Mamma Mia and We Will Rock You, on U.S. soaps like Days Of Our Lives and The Guiding Light and

SCOTT: Larry's lady?

in intense TV dramas like Law And Order and This Is Wonderland. Now she’s playing another sublimely talented dame – the late, great Vivien Leigh – in Austin Pendleton’s wry behind-the-scenes comedy Orson’s Shadow. Set in 1960, it’s Pendleton’s version of what really happened when legendary London critic Kenneth Tynan brings Orson Welles and Laurence Olivier together to collaborate on the English language premiere of Ionesco’s Rhinoceros. Olivier, deep in the throes of his affair with his young co-star Joan Plowright, is not yet separated from the mercurial, iconic and fatally unstable Ms Leigh, which makes backstage rehearsals very, very interesting. After previews start tomorrow, Orson’s Shadow opens next week at Theatre Passe Muraille, with Christopher Stanton as Kenneth Tynan, Paul Eves as Olivier, Janet Porter as Joan Plowright, and Steve Ross as Orson Welles. To order tickets, click here.

DICKINSON: dog show?

DRAGONS’ DEN GOES TO THE DOGS: Woofstock creator Marlene Cook, the brainy entrepreneur whose annual summer salute to Man’s Best Friend drew 300,000 participants to downtown T.O. this year, pitches the Dragons tonight with five look-alike dogs — one for each dragon. Would you be surprised to learn that Ms Cook matched Kevin O’Leary to an English bull terrier?  Probably not. But apparently finding an apricot poodle with a coat that was just the right shade of red to represent Arlene Dickinson was a far greater challenge. To catch all the Dragons and their canine cut-ups, tune in CBC-TV tonight at 8 pm.

TOMORROW:

Julia Roberts, The Frantics, and more Dragons!

Au Théâtre de la Tempête, René Loyon met en scène une nouvelle traduction de la pièce de Tennessee Williams Soudain l’été dernier – une prenante histoire tragique de passions enfouies et de refoulements implicites.

Tennessee Williams est l’auteur magnifique de pièces telles que Un Tramway nommé désir ou La Chatte sur un toit brûlant, toutes célébrées à l’écran par de grands réalisateurs (Elia Kazan, John Mankiewicz, John Huston…) et de mythiques acteurs comme Marlon Brando, Liz Taylor ou Paul Newman… Des pièces aux thèmes sombres et perversifs, mettant en scène les plus profondes passions de l’être humain, de l’homosexualité à l’inceste, au travers de personnages terriblement seuls face à leurs tourments. Peut-être moins connue, Soudain l’été dernier est l’histoire tragique d’une famille déchirée par la mort d’un ses siens : toute l’intrigue tourne autour des circonstances de cette mort, qui hantent chaque protagoniste pour le mener à la révélation finale.

Au début des années 1930, dans le Sud des Etats-Unis, cher à Williams, Mrs Venable pleure la mort de son fils, Sebastian, tragiquement disparu l’été dernier. Les circonstances de sa disparition sont mystérieuses : seule la cousine du défunt, Katherine, a assisté à sa fin. Parce qu’elle refuse d’entendre la vérité racontée par la jeune fille, Mrs Venable la fait interner. La pièce commence alors que la vieille dame rencontre un jeune médecin, le Docteur Sugar, pour le convaincre de pratiquer une lobotomie sur sa nièce afin de la faire taire définitivement.

Toute la pièce est construite autour de cette mort inexpliquée, autour du savoir tabou de Katherine. Car les vérités qu’elle révélerait sur la vie de Sebastian ne sont pas admissibles par Mrs Venable. La pression psychologique qui pèse sur la jeune fille va donc au delà du traumatisme subi après avoir assisté à la mort de ce cousin qu’elle vénérait : elle se poursuit alors que sa famille refuse de la croire, que sa tante la fait passer pour folle pour la faire taire. Alors qu’elle a survécu au drame, la jeune femme est enterrée vivante par les siens.

Marie Delmarès, dans le rôle de Katherine, vous coupe le souffle. Plus la pièce avance, plus Katherine se rapproche de la révélation finale – et plus Delmarès fait monter cette tension presque insoutenable, jusqu’à porter les 15 dernières minutes de la représentation sur ses épaules. On reste suspendus à ses mots, à son récit passionné – quand elle nous raconte la mort de Sebastian, elle évoque la scène avec une puissance rare, et nous laisse à notre tour le souffle court.

Face à un jeu d’une telle force, dommage que le reste de la troupe soit inégal. En particulier Agathe Alexis et Igor Mendjisky qui, dans les rôles respectifs de Mrs Venable et du Docteur Sugar, manquent de substance. C’est regrettable, car une grande partie du génie de la pièce repose sur la relation entre Mrs Venable et Katherine, autour de la jalousie profonde qui anime Mrs Venable alors que sa nièce semble l’avoir supplantée dans le coeur de Sebastian avant sa mort.

Pour notre plus grand plaisir, Tennessee Williams est à l’honneur pour cette saison théâtrale parisienne. Cette production au Théâtre de la Tempête est pleine de qualités, mais hélas, elle manque de souffle et d’ambition, comme si la troupe n’avait que frôlé du doigt la grandeur tragique du dramaturge américain.

Retrouvez cet article sur Artistik Rezo

Snakes. Snakes are damn sexy. Smooth, muscular, not human, fully prehensile. Heat-seeking creatures with heavy cultural symbolism and taboo built into every scale. The way they scent you with their forked tongues, slither and wrap themselves around you in a slow, dry, deliberate caress. The way they rear up when surprised, ready to strike but watching, watching, waiting before action, because they can take action any time they want, in a split second. Mm.

Leather. Not the kind that’s the victim of misguided design (quilting and pleats, anyone?), or dripping with studs and fringe, or ill-fitting. Rather, the kind that smoothly encases the body like a literal second skin, that gleams darkly in light, that’s soft and hard all at once, that smells rich and slides against the body when you move. It doesn’t have to be black to be beautiful, but that sure does help.

Boots. Classic design and quality material, natch. Boots with a heavy enough sole that they add noticeable weight to your step, that cause you to walk with just a hint of a swagger, that plant firmly and hold the foot with care. Boots that are dirty, because they beg to be cleaned. Boots that are gleaming, because they beg to be licked. Boots that are new, because they hold untold promise. Boots that are old, because they exude history.

Conversation. The kind that starts smoothly and surprises you with a bit of a flirt, and that turns into a mutual weaving of ideas and lasts well past the time you thought it would end when you first introduced yourself. Conversation that renders you breathless, that makes you laugh but not giggle, that challenges and affirms all at once, that connects and excites and leaves you with more questions than answers, one being, when can we do this again?

Dance music. I know many will disagree with me on this one, but hear me out. Dance music that’s exquisitely constructed to compel the body to move. Rich, deep bass that cradles the pelvic floor muscles and pushes the hips into motion, but not so loud as to reverberate or drown out the tune. A treble line that fills your lungs and tickles your shoulders, beckoning you to follow as it takes you spiraling up and around, a melody that makes you a little bit sad in the midst of the sheer joy of motion. A DJ who knows how to work with these things – a bit of suspense every once in a while, but only long enough to make you really want it, none of those long empty pauses where the body has time to lose its momentum and the mind has time to refocus. I don’t want focus when I’m dancing. I want to lose myself in the bodily experience of the beat.

Burlesque. But it has to be done right. I want to be teased, titillated, surprised, denied. Start with a gorgeous costume. I appreciate the humour and camp of burlesque, don’t get me wrong, but what I really want is a sweetly curved feminine body in clothes that push the curves out, pinch the waist in, flatter and slink and drip and veil. Don’t take them off too fast and spoil the surprise. Make me wait for it. Show me a little bit, and then take it away again. I want you to take your body from the realm of cheap and glittery spectacle into the world of luxurious, decadent art. I’m not actually here to see your breasts or your butt. I’m here for the enjoyment of being made to want to see those things, so make me want them.

Books. More specifically, books about sex. Lots of them. The words on their covers, the ideas inside, the crisp feel of pages, the scent of ink and paper and musty old glue, the knowledge that if I am surrounded by books about sex it means I am not the only one in the course of history who has spent this much time thinking about sex and all its many meanings and permutations. Proof positive that sex has inspired deep thought, intense creativity, broad theorizing, endless debate. All of this documented and catalogued and explicated and questioned and created. Bliss.

Blood. But not just any blood. It has to be done right. You have to do it voluntarily – accidents are just messy, and often tainted with the wrong smell. I want a dark-red jewel welling up from a single tiny hole, or perhaps several, or maybe a razor-sharp line that stings and gives me more. Salty, thick, delicious. Powerful. A bit of fear mixed in to heighten the scent, flavoured all the more sweetly with the intensity of your totally irrational, but utterly compelling, desire to feed me.

Clothes. Your clothes. The ones that you chose because they made you feel dressed up, groomed, beautiful, confident. A nicely ironed shirt that nestles just under the freshly shaved line at the nape of your neck. A casually knotted tie that just happens to match your socks. Pants that break on your instep and hug your hips just so. The look on your face that’s cocky and proud and a bit shy all at once, knowing you look good but not sure I’ve noticed yet.

And you? What are a few of your favourite things?

From the Nutcracker, featuring the Bolshoi Ballet

Aida by Verdi

11th November 2009 – 10th December 2009, at the Arts Centre, State Theatre.

Presented by Opera Australia.

The King’s daughter Amneris is in love with Radamès, and hopes they will marry. Radamès, however, is in love with her Ethiopian slave-girl, Aida, and she with him. Is Radamès and Aida’s love great enough to betray their countries?

Verdi’s thundering choruses and spine-tingling arias, combined with an outstanding cast and the theatrical magic of Graeme Murphy resulted in a sell-out season in Sydney. You can see why when one of the world’s favourite operas comes to Melbourne.

Pricing:

Evening: $229 / $168 / $118 / $102 / $55 Matinee: $218 / $160 / $112 / $97 / $55

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Cosi fan tutte by Mozart

19th November 2009 – 12th December 2009, at the Arts Centre, State Theatre.

Price Range: $55 – $229

Presented by the Opera Australia.

It’s a simple story. Three men, three women and three questions. Are all women fickle? Are men any better? Is there any such thing as true love? Mozart’s delicate and sensual score sounds exquisite while asking all the hard questions.

Jim Sharman’s exuberant new production features a hand-picked cast of young Australians including Hye Seoung Kwon, Sian Pendry, Henry Choo and Luke Gabbedy as the quartet of lovers, and is performed in lively new English translation.

Get ready for a rollercoaster ride through innocence, experience and sexual intrigue in this very modern interpretation of one of Mozart’s classics.

Pricing:

Evening: $229 / $168 / $118 / $102 / $55 Matinee: $218 / $160 / $112 / $97 / $55

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The Harry Harlow Project

26th November 2009 – 5th December 2009, 7.30pm, at the Arts Centre, Fairfax Studio.

Price Range: $23 – $28

Presented by FULL TILT at the Arts Centre in association with Insite Arts.

Harlow was the first psychologist to explore the nature of love, and his groundbreaking work with baby rhesus monkeys brought him fame and acclaim in the scientific world. However, as his own personal struggles took hold, Harlow’s experiments into the darker side of love became more and more macabre and disturbing.

How do we reconcile that his work became the foundation for everything science now accepts about child-rearing, neglect, child abuse, and depression?

This premiere production explores this man and his work by creating the laboratory inside his head. This is where his ideas, emotions, memories, ethics, insecurities and demons reside and conflict to create the work that has been the source of so much benefit, consternation, admiration and hatred.

Written and performed by James Saunders | Directed by Brian Lipson | Sound Design Kelly Ryall | Video Design Martyn Coutts

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Revolutions: Great Classics Concert 6

28th – 30th November 2009, at the Arts Centre, Hamer Hall.

Price Range: $30 – $125

Presented by the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra.

Time:

Sat 2pm
Mon 6.30pm

Pricing:

Price type: Adult | concession | youthPremium:  $125 | $100 | $75
A Reserve:$100 |  $80 | $60
B Reserve:  $80 |  $60 | $40
C Reserve:  $55 |  $45 | $30

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World Supremacy Battlegrounds (WSB) 2009

29th November 2009, 3pm – 9.30pm, at the Arts Centre, Hamer Hall.

Price Range: $25 – $55

Presented by Hoopdreamz.

International Dance Battle

500 urban dancers. 12 nations. 3 titles. All will descend upon the city of Melbourne, Australia’s arts and cultural capital, showcasing some of the most exciting and dynamic displays of Hip Hop dancing like nothing else seen in Australia.An annual event, the 2009 World Supremacy Battlegrounds is a platform for teenagers and young adults to shine and showcase their Hip Hop dancing skills, ranging from Popping, Locking, Break dancing, Funk, Krump dancing, and even the incorporation of Hip Hop with traditional dance such as Jazz, Ballet, Contemporary, and interpretive dance.

This epic Urban & Hip Hop showdown will see some of Australia’s elite street dancers pitting themselves against some of the world’s best. Features global challengers from Singapore, Japan, Philippines, Thailand, South Korea, USA, New Caledonia, Malaysia, Hong Kong, China and Canada, with defending champions coming back from New Zealand.

Time

3pm – 9.30pm
Running time: 310 minutes with 2 intervals

Pricing

Premium $55 Adult / $45 Child/ $ 190 Family of 4
A Res  $45 Adult / $35 Child /  $ 150 Family of 4
B Res $35 Adult / $25 Child / $ 110 Family of 4** Please Note:
Designated Childrens’ Performance. Children under 2yrs free if sitting on parents laps.

Tickets on sale to the general public at 9am on 1 September 2009

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B.C.

30th November 2009 – 19th December 2009, at the Arts Centre, BlackBox Theatre.

Price Range: $23 – $28

Presented by the FULL TILT at the Arts Centre in association with The Hayloft Project’s.

An irreverent renovation of the Immaculate Conception

In a recognisable modern world of lounge rooms, food courts, bus stops and dinner tables, divine impregnation is the last thing you’d expect. B.C. depicts Mary, still living with her parents, as a young hairdresser with a romantic interest in store clerk, Joseph.Mary has complex connections with her family.  Her relationship with her father borders on taboo, there is the strain of her mother Anne’s cancer treatment fraying the maternal bond. Mary gives her honest, sisterly love to Gabriel, her mentally disabled brother who paints his own landscape with avian fantasies and abrupt tracts of ultra-violent reverie.  The family argue over feature walls and accept each other’s many failings just like many other families… until Mary is arrested by a higher force. Her life will never be the same again.

Written by Rita Kalnejais.

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“Regardless of how this whole thing works out, I will be dying, and so will you, and so will everyone else here. And that’s what I’d like to explore.” These are the opening instructions that theater director Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman) offers a newly assembled cast in Charlie Kaufman’s film Synecdoche, New York. But they might just as easily serve as a warning to prospective moviegoers.

Fans of the film (and I am one) will praise its immense ambition and originality; critics, for their part, will declare it to be glum and narcissistic. As is not infrequent in such cases, both are correct. Synecdoche, New York is a huge film about puny sentiments, an anti-heroic epic of failure, remorse, alienation, and self-pity. It may not be the best film of the year, but it is very likely to be the most extraordinary.

Like past Kaufman scripts (Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), this one begins in mundane enough fashion, as Caden awakes with wife Adele (Catherine Keener) and preschool daughter Olive in his modest home in Schenectady, New York. (The movie’s title, like Adaptation before it, is a pun, drawing on both the name of the town and the literary device of synecdoche, in which a part is made to stand in for the whole.) The household is quickly beset by signs of decay: a public-radio interviewee who explains that writers are drawn to autumn because “it’s the beginning of the end”; a magazine cover entitled “Attending to Your Illness”; the discovery that Olive’s poop is inexplicably green (this is the first of many ill-colored emissions). The first notable event in the film is a plumbing calamity: As Caden shaves at the bathroom sink, the faucet jerks like a cut snake before exploding; his resulting head wound requires a trip to the emergency room. It is, as Caden guesses, “just the start of something awful.”

As Caden’s health deteriorates in odd and sometimes gruesome ways, Adele–a painter of canvases so tiny that they are shipped in crates the size of matchboxes–takes Olive away with her to Berlin for a gallery show of indeterminate length. Caden’s center cannot hold: Spoken language fails (characters trade confusions over homonyms like “stool” and “pipe”), and time itself seems to distend. When Hazel (Samantha Morton), the sweet, romantically forward ticket girl at Caden’s theater, points out that “it’s been a year” since Adele abandoned him, Caden replies as if she’s nuts: “It’s been a week.” But though we’ve been conditioned to take his side in the temporal dispute, she is in fact correct.

After winning a MacArthur genius grant (how, it is difficult to imagine), Caden begins the production of a theatrical event in an abandoned New York warehouse, a vast simulacrum of the outside world for which actors must be found to play the actors playing the characters in infinite regression. A stalker (Tom Noonan) who has followed Caden for decades becomes his on-set double; an actress hired to play Hazel (Emily Watson) replaces her offstage as well by letting Caden take her to bed; another (Dianne Wiest) arrives to play a part that Caden had stumbled into in real life (that of ex-wife Adele’s cleaning woman), only to replace him altogether as art gradually usurps reality.

The subject of Kaufman’s best work, Eternal Sunshine, was the gradual erasure of a man’s memory. Here, the subject is the erasure of the man himself, the way his roles–husband, father, lover, director–are one by one shed, stolen, half-forgotten. As Caden’s stalker informs him at one point, “I want to follow you and see how you lose even more of yourself.” These are the windmills of Kaufman’s mind and, like God’s, they grind slow but exceedingly fine.

The first film Kaufman directed as well as wrote, Synecdoche shares the hazy, dreamlike quality that has characterized much of his work. For all its cleverness, the pieces don’t fit too neatly. Some of the themes are readily apparent–the intertwining of sex and death, which almost always accompany one another in the film–but others remain obscure, such as Hazel’s purchase and long residence in a house that is perpetually on fire. The result is a film that is less philosophical, or even psychological, than neurological in impact. It doesn’t make an argument, it evokes a mood, a broad sensation of regret and exhaustion. The world it conjures is one in which important truths remain hidden or misunderstood.

The large cast, which also includes Michelle Williams as Caden’s second wife and Hope Davis as a predatory psychologist, is uniformly excellent, if generally operating in a minor key. Even Hoffman, who appears in nearly every scene, is uncharacteristically recessive, and while this is clearly intentional, it is not always terribly satisfying. There are no Big Performances on display here. From its first frames, this is Kaufman’s baby, and while some viewers may find it unlovable, it is moving in odd and unexpected ways.

It is, moreover, a work of such scope and imagination that it makes the fall’s other releases to date feel small and half-hearted, easy illusions that might be playing on a movie screen somewhere within Caden’s vast set. Seldom does one run across a work of art so strange and original and yet so comprehensive, an invented universe so fully realized that emerging from the theater at its conclusion can be a dislocating experience. Though barely two hours long, the film feels longer–and not, for once, in a bad way. It is an immersive experience, far too much movie to be fully digested in a single sitting or, in my case, even two. And, yes, that may be taken as a compliment, a complaint, or both.

MY DARLING PATRICIA

AFRICA

12th November 2009 – 29th November 2009, at the Malthouse Theatre, Tower Theatre.

Presented by the Malthouse Theatre.

“FEW HAVE BEEN AS BOLD AND SPONTANEOUS AS SIX-YEAR-OLD MIKA AND HIS FIVE-YEAR-OLD SWEETHEART ANNA-BELL WHO, AFTER MULLING OVER THEIR OPTIONS IN SECRET, PACKED THEIR SUITCASES ON NEW YEAR’S EVE AND SET OFF TO TIE THE KNOT UNDER THE HEAT OF THE AFRICAN SUN.” – THE GUARDIAN (2008)

Inspired by this true story, My Darling Patricia re-imagines Africa as an ultimate escape from Australian Surburbia. Using puppetry, broken toys and performance, My Darling Patricia use the resilience of a child’s imagination as a powerful restorative tool that will transport you to an imaginary paradise. Where we might see abandon and chaos, a child discovers escape and delight; this is the world created in Africa.

Melbourne was introduced to My Darling Patricia in 2006 through their award winning production, Politely Savage and more recently, Night Garden (2009). Drawing inspiration from all corners of the creative universe, My Darling Patricia will use their unique approach to design and performance to transform the Tower Theatre into something remarkable.

In 2008, Malthouse Theatre handed over the Tower Theatre keys to the thrillingly unpredictable Black Lung Theatre. Their three-month residency resulted in a pair of works unlike anything seen before in our theatres. Now it is the turn of My Darling Patricia, a company who create highly distinctive visual theatre that is at once epic and intimate. Melbourne was introduced to them in 2006 through their award winning production, Politely Savage and more recently, Night Garden at Arts House Meat Market.

My Darling Patricia are a creative ensemble who fuse everyday domestic Australia and the far reaches of the fantastic, drawing inspiration from all corners of the creative universe – from the grandiose spectacles of Robert Wilson and Romeo Castellucci to the intricacies of animator Jan Svankmajer – theirs is a practice that ultimately defies categorisation. During My Darling Patricia’s residency, expect the Tower Theatre to be transformed into something quite remarkable.

“A POWERFUL, IMMERSIVE EXPERIENCE – SENSE DRENCHED, CREEPY AND FULL OF ATMOSPHERE.“ – THE AUSTRALIAN (ON THE AWARD WINNING POLITELY SAVAGE)

“MY DARLING PATRICIA BLENDS EXTRAORDINARY CRAFT SKILLS IN DESIGN AND PUPPETRY WITH EVOCATIVE VIDEO IMAGERY AND PERFORMANCE TO PRODUCE A WORK OF VISUAL WONDER.” – REALTIME (ON NIGHT GARDEN)

CONCEIVED, DESIGNED AND CREATED
BY MY DARLING PATRICIA:
CONCEPT: SAM ROUTLEDGE
WRITER / DIRECTOR: HALCYON MACLEOD
DESIGNERS: CLARE BRITTON & BRIDGET DOLAN
COMPOSER & SOUND DESIGNER: DECLAN KELLY
LIGHTING DESIGNER: LUCY BIRKINSHAW
PUPPETS: BRYONY ANDERSON

CAST: CLARE BRITTON, JODIE LE VESCONTE, ALICE OSBORNE, MATT PREST, SAM ROUTLEDGE

Pricing: $25.50 – $32.50 (excludes booking fee)

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STRUCTURE AND SADNESS

25th November 2009 – 29th November 2009, at the Malthouse Theatre, Merlyn Theatre.
A LUCY GUERIN INC PRODUCTION PRESENTED BY THE MALTHOUSE THEATRE.

“A CHOREOGRAPHER IN RIGOROUS CONTROL OF HER MATERIAL, CREATING BEAUTIFULLY FOCUSED, POWERFULLY EVOCATIVE WORKS… GUERIN HAS CREATED A QUIETLY DEVESTATING AND POTENT WORK. NEW YORK’S LOSS HAS BEEN MELBOURNE’S GAIN.”- NEW YORK PRESS

“GUERIN LETS HER DANCERS’ BODIES EXPRESS THE PHYSICAL CONSEQUENCES OF CATASTROPHE AND EMBODY THE FRAGILE CONSTRUCTS THAT MOSTLY HOLD US UP.” THE NEW YORK TIMES -SYDNEY MORNING HERALD

On 15 October 1970, a 367-ft section of the West Gate Bridge, known as ‘span 10–11’, collapsed during construction. Approximately 2,000 tonnes of steel and concrete came crashing down into the muddy banks of the Yarra below, taking the lives of 35 workers, their machinery, tools and sheds with them.

In Structure and Sadness, Guerin’s unique movement vocabulary is based on the engineering principles of compression, suspension, torsion and failure. On stage, the six performers construct a precarious world teetering on the point of collapse.

Since its world premiere for the 2006 Melbourne International Arts Festival, this arresting production has been presented at the Sydney Festival, Perth International Arts Festival and in 2009 toured the globe to Frankfurt, Ludwigsberg, Dublin and New York. Malthouse Theatre is thrilled to invite Lucy Guerin Inc to perform this muchanticipated and exclusive Melbourne return season in the Merlyn Theatre.

CHOREOGRAPHER LUCY GUERIN
ORIGINAL MUSIC GERALD MAIR
MOTION GRAPHICS MICHAELA FRENCH
SET AND LIGHTING DESIGNERS
BLUEBOTTLE: BEN COBHAM AND ANDREW LIVINGSTON
COSTUMES PAULA LEVIS
DRAMATURGE MARYANNE LYNCH
PRODUCERS FOR LUCY GUERIN INC MICHAELA COVENTRY
AND ANGHARAD WYNNE-JONES

PERFORMED BY
FIONA CAMERON
KYLE KREMERSKOTHEN
LINA LIMOSANI
HARRIET RITCHIE
BYRON PERRY
LEE SERLE

Pricing: $25.50 – $39.50 (excludes booking fee)

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You are the creator and caretaker of fantasies.

The children know this; they cling to the bottom of your feet like wet grass, wanting to go where you go. You take them to England, Austria, Neverland. Everyone is expected to bring something unique but equal. No one is left out unless they choose to leave.

I miss you while you’re gone. I begin to feel like Hayley Mills in The Parent Trap. Do I have a sister, or is it all split screen gimmickry? How much longer can we be separated and be complete? When is our next late night phone call?

At the end of the journey, you and the children produce an animated scrapbook. We, the family, friends, neighbors, acquaintances, gather around and laugh, stare, gasp, sigh. We didn’t know it would be like this. We didn’t. Why did we doubt your loyalty, or sanity? You’ve been somewhere. You’ve become something. And we missed it again. Or maybe we just saw the best moments.

So last week I went to see Bordertown Cafe at Prairie Theatre Exchange, and it’s only taken me a week to blog about it. Sorry! Anyways, it was a great show and SO funny! The play almost seemed like a TV sitcom; like Corner Gas, but actually funny… and good.

The story is about a family in a small town in Alberta that runs a cafe, and a big decision that the teenage boy has to make that changes everything. The cast worked so well together, and the characters (and actors that played them) were hilarious.

The teenage boy, Jimmy, (who wasn’t played by a teenager at all) is SO dreamy and was such a cutie dressed in his jean jacket and blue jeans. Check out a video interview with the actor who plays Jimmy, Jamie Spilchuk, in the PTE video gallery. I melt every time he smiles!

Janet-Laine Green, the actor that plays Maxine (the grandmother) is a sassy, outrageous and hilarious woman who made me laugh every time she opened her mouth. Maxine is originally from the States and came up to Canada after being wooed over by her now husband, after less than two days!

The play is on for another week, so if you have time you should definitely check it out!

Comme annoncé ici dans l’agenda, mon amie Aude m’a emmené lors d’une virée nocturne dimanche soir à propos de laquelle je n’avais que 2 indices : Patrick Juvet, et des paillettes. Résultat : ça n’avait rien à voir, c’était une belle revanche sur le fait que je lui avais fait croire pendant des semaines qu’on allait à une “merguez party” en l’honneur de René des Musclés, mort prématurément cet été (René, big up si tu nous entends) alors que je l’emmenais au concert de Nouvelle Vague à L’Olympia.

En vrai, on est allé voir “La Grande Magie” avec Podalydès à la Comédie Française : c’était ma toute première fois dans ce théâtre ! C’était drôle d’y aller, peu après le billet de Tana dont j’avais reparlé avec elle au cours d’un dîner la semaine précédente. Et je la rejoins pour dire que c’est excellent, que Podalydès est exceptionnel dans son rôle !

A vrai dire, j’ai été étonnée de la gravité de la pièce. L’itinéraire de Podalydès est plus que celui d’un anti-héros, il s’agirait presque d’un anti-parcours initiatique, lors duquel il apprend à désapprendre.

La démarche ressemblerait presque au doute cartésien, mais le héros de la pièce se trompe de chemin. Au lieu de faire du doute un moyen pour atteindre la vérité – dans le cas de Descartes, on peut douter de tout, sauf du fait qu’on doute, et donc qu’on pense, d’où le fameux cogito, ergo sum – il reste bloqué au niveau d’une croyance irréelle, littéralement in-croyable de prime abord. Et pourtant cet homme bien sous tout rapport va plonger tête baisser dans cet univers complètement fou, où il renie la vérité, le tangible, le monde, le temps, les autres.

J’étais très étonnée par Podalydès, que je connais très mal. J’avais adoré Bancs Publics, et j’en avais l’image d’un mec tout gentil, tout rond, tout sympathique. Et dans la pièce, il apparaît comme un grand gars tout fin, sec, avec des cheveux…je ne l’avais pas reconnu. Mais quel acteur de génie : tour à tour touchant, drôle, triste, émouvant, il porte la pièce (magnifiquement jouée par tous les acteurs par ailleurs) jusqu’à son climax final qui nous laisse pantois(es).

Un moment magique !

Infos pratiques : jusqu’au 17 janvier 2010.

Comédie-Française – Salle Richelieu place Colette – Paris 1er

Bus  lignes 21, 27, 39, 48, 67, 68, 69, 81, 95

Métro  Palais Royal Musée du Louvre (1 et 7), Pyramides (7 et 14)

Durée : 1h50 sans entracte.

En matinée à 14h30 et le soir à 20h30.

Vous pouvez acheter des places directement depuis le site de la Comédie Française.

For your consideration: The following information from yesterday’s MD Daily Record article.

The owners of the five-screen Charles Theatre would keep the Senator a movie theater… and potentially add a smaller auditorium.

“When you have another screen, you have more flexibility,” Kathleen Cusack said. “If you have a second screen and you have a movie that isn’t making a lot of money, you can move it there and put something else on the main screen.”

If the Cusacks add a 120-seat theater to the Senator, the main auditorium would shrink from 940 seats to 760. Cusack said the smaller theater could be used as an arts education area.

It was our understanding that the interior spaces, including The Senator auditorium, were now under the ‘protection’ of Baltimore City’s Commisson for Historical & Architectural Preservation (CHAP) Landmark and Special Designation Lists.

So, we have to wonder how could the BDC reconcile James “Buzz” Cusack’s plan with CHAP’s intent to protect the interior beyond “normal maintenance”?

For that matter, given Mr. Cusack himself is a CHAP member, why would he even suggest such a move?

From a historical standpoint (one which we share), subdividing the auditorium is unthinkable and therefore a plan we could not support.

On the night when Ireland lost the world cup cos of a certain Frenchman’s hand, I was engulfed in the whirlwind that is Mark O’Rowe’s Terminus. First produced in 2007, the plays returns to its birthplace on the Peacock stage. It was a good sign that there was a picture of Marina Carr’s Woman and Scarecrow on the wall of the bar when I arrived – good productions encourage more good productions.

The play is a wonderful, rhythmic trip through the interlinking lives of three characters in the space of one day – almost like a contemporary Ulysses really!!! While Andrea Irvine remains from the original cast, Karl Shiels and Kate Brennan are welcome additions. In particular, I felt Kate Brennan was undeniably brilliant with a stunning delivery of perfectly timed rhyme. I found that when her turn came round to pick up her story, she really took us all off on a real whirlwind story, flying through the air and plunging back down into the depths of the earth with her fantastical, creature lover.

The play is a real treat and a wonderful escape into a truly horrifying but captivating world – pure escapism that won’t leave you for days after.

Runs until December 5th – don’t miss it for the second time!!

Please leave now.

OK, that might be harsh, but that was my feeling about a third of the way through the first act of the Roundabout’s revival of Bye Bye Birdie.  Truth be told, I wasn’t entirely interested in seeing this show, but being the ardent theatre queen I am, I relented and bought tickets (at a discount, thankfully).

The NY Post’s Michael Riedel, he of the mud-slinging and gossip-hunting “critiques”, wrote early in the rehearsal cycle about problems with the show.  Then, Ben Brantley promptly slammed the show in his review.  I wasn’t really expecting much, but did I get a lot to write about when I saw the show.

Bye Bye Birdie is a dated show.  Not even in terms of pacing or dialogue tone, which I expect from all revivals.  This show has not aged well.  It capitalized on the rise of “youth culture”, Elvis, and the early stages of the sexual revolution – all of which seem trite today.  Unfortunately, the earnest mentality the show showcases isn’t just out of date, its childish.

The jokes are hokey, the songs are sugary, and while there is ostensible fun to be had, no one seems like they’re enjoying themselves.  The two above-the-title stars, John Stamos & Gina Gershon are both miscast.  Both actors are talented performers I’ve seen on stage before, but neither are suited to the roles they play.  Stamos is not much of a singer, but has good comic timing & lots of charisma.  He also comes across as a big queen, prancing his lengthy limbs around in suits that don’t fit (costume discussion to come).  The role is so uncomfortably dated, you’d almost have to play the role as a gay man to not play it ironically.  And I couldn’t tell if he was or wasn’t, so what does that tell you?  But, Stamos should stick to fare that better suits him – like straight comedic roles.

Gershon is a different story.  I’ve adored her ever since Showgirls (natch), but I’ve been impressed with her work in Bound and Boeing Boing (among other things).  She’s likeable, energetic, and really has stage presence – not to mention wonderful comic timing and sex appeal.  And, I’ve heard her sing before.  She’s not bad.  She just wasn’t right for a classic pop musical – she’s a rock chick.  Give her an angry guitar jam, and she’d be fine.  But, here, with this winsomely chipper music, her voice comes of as strained and off-key.  Its simply not a match.  And then there’s the whole “this character is Hispanic, right?” issue.  Originally written as a white character, Rosie was rewritten for Rita Moreno.  There is ample Hispanic talent in the Broadway landscape, so why couldn’t they cast someone Hispanic?  Fear of alienating crowds?  As for Gina, girl – get a better agent.

There are two positive standouts in the cast – Matt Doyle & Jayne Houdyshell.  Doyle plays the earnest suitor to the teenage girl lusting after the titular Birdie, and plays it with just the right balance of earnestness & “yes, I’m playing this earnestly, just go with me please” attitude that he makes me wonder why he doesn’t get larger roles.  His exposure on Gossip Girl notwithstanding, Matt deserves a more substantial role to see if his skills really do stand out like they seem to.

As for my dear Jayne Houdyshell, well, I’d watch her in just about anything.  Although this character is a bit too venomous for her charm, she still manages to pull it out, getting the most of my chuckles during the show.  Can someone mount a revival of Auntie Mame for this woman, please?

And now I have to slam an actor I usually like.  Bill Irwin plays the dad, and he shoots so far past the back row, I felt whiplash.  He overacts to a terrible degree.  I get that he wants to make something of this role, but all he made was annoyance. Every time he opened his mouth, I cringed with fear on where he would take his line.  It was that bad.  Normally, I’m a fan of his, having enjoyed him in The Goat, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and Waiting for Godot.  But here, he needed some serious direction (or got too much).  Just no restraint at all, and it was terrible to watch.

The rest of the cast is fairly unmemorable, save for when the titular character parades onstage in only his underwear.  Good to look at, but era inappropriate.  I felt like most of the male cast was gay, flamboyantly so.  The romantic overtures had no weight, and overall, most of the characters were generally indistinguishable.  The notion of casting teenagers as teenagers wasn’t a bad idea, but it didn’t really bring anything to the show.  Lea Michele does a better job on Glee portraying a teenager at 23 than any of these actors did.  Go figure.

As for the production itself, well, it was sure colorful.  Everything was bold, dynamic colors – to the point that they were distracting.  And the costumes, good lord, did not ever seem to fit any of the characters.  Not a single outfit looked like it fit, and I was just annoyed every time.  The cast is generally good looking, so for the clothes to be so ill-fitting is just poor craftsmanship.

I have to lay the blame for the production squarely on the shoulders of the Roundabout.  They blew the sound production for an otherwise stellar revival of Sunday In The Park With George two years ago, and ruin a well-intentioned piece here with shoddy production.

This revival is the second in two years from the Roundabout that had good intentions, but just were bad choices for reviving (last year’s Pal Joy is the other culprit).  On Pal Joey, they used an updated book (thank you Richard Greenberg), but here, where it really needed an update, no changes seem to have been made.  The music is a little cutesy for my taste (after all…), but it was more than serviceable enough that an updated book could have made the show if not relevant, then a little less dated.  Perhaps even something approaching mature.  Or, at least good enough for a fun night at the theater.  Unfortunately, that just didn’t happen.

Yeah, we’re back in our little rat hole. Not much luxury here, but we’ve got our beds, our laptops and a conciderable amount of drawer space. Me and Juuso live in House A on the first floor, or the so called D floor in room number 5. Approximately 30 other young men share our hall, which has a bathroom/showers at one end and a small TV room at the other. This week is our cleaning week, which means that we and the guys from two other rooms see to that the hallway, the bathroom and the TV room stay clean and pristine. Much emphasis is laid on cleaning now in swine flu time.

Our luxurious bunks

The weekend went by nicely. On Friday we left on two packed buses for Helsinki. I started my Friday evening with a good concert by Landscape Generator at Club Lepakkomies in Kallio. I later found myself at a very strange party for theater and culture folks. It involved a dj, a lot of dancing, professional dancers doing an improvised dance show, a stripping room with a dancing pole, with a camera and the image from the room spread out on a huge canvas. Yes, the actor girls went all the way by the pole. As if that was not enough, at one point a small plastic room with headphones was lowered from the ceiling, creating a private discoteque. And oh, did I mention the armless midget dancing in the nude? Yes, he was there too. After this rather refreshing, but utterly strange night, I decided to rest the remainder of the weekend…

Yesterday was an official job seeking day, and since I already know where I’m going to serve once I get away from Lapinjärvi, I had the day off. I still decided to take a walk up to Ny Tid magazine and sign my contract. I also found the time to record a character for a radio play at YLE.

The civilian servants here are really warming up to the issue of politics. One of the guys here is something of a spokesperson for the newly formed Pirate Party, and he held a short presentation followed by a lively debate on the whole piracy movement. I find the notion of internet piracy interesting and I agree with the advocats for piracy that the old fashioned system of copyright laws are outdated. As such the laws now simply serve as money stones for big companies and the so called Lex Karpela in Finland is utterly ridiculous inaswhere that it actually prohibits the copying of for example a movie from your laptop onto a dvd. Or moving music from your hard drive to your mp3-player. But the problem with the piracy movement is that it really hasn’t got a credible alternative to the copyright laws. The movement advocates free usage of artistic products such as movies and music, but still maintains that the producer of the art should get compensation for his/her work. In answer to my question today, even the “spokesperson” admitted that the movement actually haven’t figured this problem out yet. So in actuality, we now have a political movement trying to force a law change. But they don’t know what law they want, only what they don’t want, which I find to be a rather flimsy base for a political party. We also had a very long and interesting debate on democracy and voting, but I might return to that topic later.

And I just watched Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull on my laptop. See ya later!

Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas is back on stage at the Old Globe for its 12th straight year! It runs through December 27th, with a special Family Day event on December 20th.  Tickets are $39-$79 for adults and $29-$59 for children (3-17 years old).  For more information, visit the Old Globe website.

And check out the photos below for a sneak peek at the show!

The Lincoln Center has always established it self as a great place for the performing arts and this  celebration will last up until Jan 16, 2010. Go and enjoy what LC has to offer in Music, art, theatre, and  dance . I know I will be there.

For more information on tickets and events you can visit Here.

This is going to be great.

Mark your calendars now for the opening of Point of Contention’s production of Vanishing Points.  Directed by yours truly, the show will open February 25 and run through March 20 at the fabulous BoHo Theatre @ Heartland in Rogers Park.  My lovely Assistant Director Rachel Staelens and I have assembled a brilliant cast (if I do say so myself):  Stacie Hauenstein, Christopher Sanderson, Morgan Manasa, Annie Slivinski, Rick Levine, Victoria Bucknell, Mark E. Penzien, and Tony Gasbarro. 

I’ve now begun the arduous task of scheduling rehearsals…whee.  Next up, Rachel, Production Manager Ally Baisden, and I must assemble the same kind of kick-ass crew of designers. 

Go Team Vanishing Points!!