I have been debating with myself for a while about just how to broach this subject that has been troubling me for a while now. One, I wasn't sure that others will find it as troubling as I do, and, two, I didn't quite know how to raise the issue without it looking like I am pointing a finger. Then again, maybe a little bit of finger-pointing is called for in this case.
I asked around. I did a couple of informal internet surveys. I did a bit of background research.
All of these things have ultimately led me to the conclusion that broaching this subject is not only okay, but necessary as well.
First, a little background about me. I grew up on and around the Southern Ute Reservation in southern Colorado. Many of my friends were full-blood Southern Ute. Some were Navajo, Apache, or Hopi. Some were Latino or Caucasian, but most were mutts like me.
I can remember sitting on the floor of a friend's house whose family was full-blood Ute. It was a Saturday morning and we were watching cartoons followed by an old western. At one point in a cartoon, Bugs Bunny found himself confronted by some cartoon "injuns." My friend's grandmother came in and told us to change the channel. Midway through the western, in which the Native Americans were all played by anything but, she told us to turn off the T.V. and go outside. That was my first real wake-up call to the idea of Native American stereotyping and what I later heard called "redface."
I still cringe when I see a production of Peter Pan and it comes to the Tiger Lily scenes. I tell myself that it was a different, more naive time when J.M. Barrie wrote that character and a still somewhat innocent time when Comden, Green and company brought it to the Broadway stage. It still feels wrong.
Jumping ahead to 2009, I find myself with a similar shudder when I see that two local, well-respected companies will be producing The King and I as part of their seasons.
Since the city of Denver's ethnic make-up is only 3% Asian/Pacific Islander (very, very few of whom pop up at auditions around town), I assume that the casting of these shows will go along the same lines as the 1951 Broadway production (58 years ago), and Caucasian actors will play the role in bronze make-up with slanted eye-liner, referred to among the Asian community as "yellowface." (This is also the name of a very thought-provoking play written by David Henry Hwang, if you're interested.)
One of the individuals of Asian descent whom I encountered on-line responded to the news this way: "it is the Asian equivalent of 'black-face'!! I find it unacceptable, horribly offensive and degrading to all parties involved!! I suggest that if they can't find enough Asian actors then start protesting until they put a different play on!"
Now, I'm not presenting that opinion to spark protest. I just think it's an opinion worthy of note.
Some of the responses from non-Asians pointed out that Mary and Joseph are often portrayed by non-Jewish actors in Christmas pageants. Others pointed out the same about Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Or can a Korean play a Japanese character, or do you have to find someone who's Japanese? Valid points all.
However, I remember watching an interview with George Takei on Turner Classic Movies a year or so ago in which he said (and I'll have to paraphrase here), if something "grotesque" must occur for you to portray another ethnicity, then there's something wrong. He was referring to Caucasian actors appearing in "yellowface" in the movies.
Someone else posed the question back to me if I thought that the King and I "should just never be performed then?"
My answer is, unless it can be portrayed by Asian performers, probably not. I know it's a favorite musical, but so is Porgy and Bess. Why don't we see two productions of that show in a season in Denver (or even one)? The African American population is almost double the Asian/Pacific Islander population in Denver, so why not?
The answer is that few theatre companies in town (if any) could count on enough African American performers to turn out. I highly doubt, too, that when they came up short, they'd be obtuse enough to say, "Well, break out the shoe polish." There would be riots.
I doubt that there will be any riots over Caucasian children putting on black wigs and drawing slanted eyes on their faces to play the King of Siam's children, but the lack of rioting or protest doesn't make it right, either. I'm also really not thrilled about the message it sends to those young actors.
I guess it comes down to whether or not you think "yellowface" is as inappropriate as "blackface." Well, what I've found is that it depends on who you ask, but I give a little more weight to the answers provided by Asians. (That answer was overwhelmingly,"Of course it is.")
Now, I'm not saying that the play selection committees of these two organizations deliberately selected a show so they could project racist stereotypes. That's ridiculous. I think that, like many of the Caucasian people to whom I've spoken, it just never occurred to them.
Sometimes I think America goes a little too crazy with all of the political-correctness. I don't know that Miley Cyrus really owed the entire Asian community an apology for pulling at the sides of her eyes mugging for a snapshot, but others felt she did. I wasn't terribly offended by Jessica Simpson's recent exclamation that she wasn't "an Indian-giver." However, others were. I do think in both cases, a "hey, that's kind of insensitive" nudge might have been called for, but that's about it.
However, I look the way that I do. I have never had to personally deal with the kind of racism that my childhood friends have or that I'm sure my grandmother must have. I may not be qualified to tell the groups who were offended by these instances whether or not they have a right to be offended or to what degree.
When it comes to putting kids in "yellowface" to stage a somewhat out-dated musical, though, I don't have any problem seeing where there's something wrong there.
You may disagree.
I hope that I'm wrong about the casting, and that these companies will find enough Asian actors to perform the roles without having to turn it into a highly inappropriate Halloween costume party, but I just don't know if that can be done.
I'm not saying that these companies should cancel their productions. I know one doesn't have much time, if it hasn't opened already.
I'm just saying that future play selection committees might want to dig just a little bit deeper when it comes to what's appropriate entertainment for their community and what isn't.
Of course, audiences are not free from responsibility here, either. Theatre companies (particularly in this economy) sort of have to give us what we ask for and what we will pay for, so we all need to think about for which kinds of representations we are willing to do both.
Of course, that's just my opinion. Well, not just mine, but I'll take the heat for it. I just feel it needed to be said.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Happiness Is a Blueberry Donut
My dad turned me on to the beautiful simplicity of the blueberry donut when I was a kid, and, while I may occasionally venture toward something chocolate-covered or jelly-filled, I eventually pick up one (or two) of these cakey treats. I think that they even count as part of the fruit group. Well, that's what I choose to believe.
The one that I am enjoying this morning is from my favorite little donut shop in town: Walton Donuts.
I'm not the only one who thinks so. Walton Donuts was ranked #1 in a Simpson's-inspired readers poll in the Denver Post a couple of years ago. (I don't know if anyone's conducted one since, but I don't see Walton losing any ground if they did.)
Now, it's not just the great donuts that draws me to Walton Donuts, though that would certainly be enough. They are also family owned and operated. Take note: despite the potential loss of church-going donut buyers, Walton Donuts thus far remains closed on Sundays. That is their family's day. I think that's kinda nice, don't you?
Now, if you're still not sold, I'd just like to add that Walton Donuts recently became a purveyor of Colorado's own Peaberry Coffee - the whole family is now barista-trained.
A bear claw and an espresso - now there's a rush to get you through rush hour.
The one that I am enjoying this morning is from my favorite little donut shop in town: Walton Donuts.
I'm not the only one who thinks so. Walton Donuts was ranked #1 in a Simpson's-inspired readers poll in the Denver Post a couple of years ago. (I don't know if anyone's conducted one since, but I don't see Walton losing any ground if they did.)
Now, it's not just the great donuts that draws me to Walton Donuts, though that would certainly be enough. They are also family owned and operated. Take note: despite the potential loss of church-going donut buyers, Walton Donuts thus far remains closed on Sundays. That is their family's day. I think that's kinda nice, don't you?
Now, if you're still not sold, I'd just like to add that Walton Donuts recently became a purveyor of Colorado's own Peaberry Coffee - the whole family is now barista-trained.
A bear claw and an espresso - now there's a rush to get you through rush hour.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Guilty Pleasures
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." — Ferris Bueller
I first heard about the passing of John Hughes today in a "tweet." It's the same way that I heard about Michael Jackson. It's funny to think about how far we've come since the eighties. I imagine a Breakfast Club of detentionees nowadays would remain isolated from one another if left alone in the library -- still linked to their respective cliques via small, easy-to-hide mobile devices.
The "groundbreaking" soul-baring discussion among the brain, the athlete, the princess, the criminal, and the basket-case might never have occurred. We might never have seen how we are truly one and the same.
That is what John Hughes movies did. Apart from entertaining us and giving us some of the most quotable lines ever ("Could you describe the ruckus, sir?"), the John Hughes movie (and its many copycats) leveled the playing field.
Amid the slapstick and wisecracks and occasional gross-out humor (tame by today's standards), John Hughes showed us the humanity that existed under all of the other crap. In a world where we constantly try to define ourselves by how we are not like this person or that person, Hughes manages -- usually in the last fifteen minutes of the movie -- to say, "Guess again."
Most John Hughes films usually end up on a movie buff's "guilty pleasure" list, but, if we look past the iconic clothing and pop music -- always there for a reason -- these are really some of the best stories to have made it to film. What adversity teaches us about ourselves and our place in the world is a central theme of Home Alone, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, National Lampoon's Vacation, and Sixteen Candles.
As a stage director, I am always looking for the "heart" of the story I'm telling, whether it's a silly spoof, heavy drama, light musical, or something else entirely. I learned this from, of all places, Uncle Buck. While we all may remember from that movie things like "the mole scene", or "the clown scene", or "the golf club scene", what makes that movie a favorite among millions (whether we admit it or not) is its heart.
Spielberg brought us aliens, Scorsese brought us gangsters, but John Hughes brought us something that was ever more fantastic for us to see on-screen. He brought us ourselves.
Thank you, Mr. Hughes.
I first heard about the passing of John Hughes today in a "tweet." It's the same way that I heard about Michael Jackson. It's funny to think about how far we've come since the eighties. I imagine a Breakfast Club of detentionees nowadays would remain isolated from one another if left alone in the library -- still linked to their respective cliques via small, easy-to-hide mobile devices.
The "groundbreaking" soul-baring discussion among the brain, the athlete, the princess, the criminal, and the basket-case might never have occurred. We might never have seen how we are truly one and the same.
That is what John Hughes movies did. Apart from entertaining us and giving us some of the most quotable lines ever ("Could you describe the ruckus, sir?"), the John Hughes movie (and its many copycats) leveled the playing field.
Amid the slapstick and wisecracks and occasional gross-out humor (tame by today's standards), John Hughes showed us the humanity that existed under all of the other crap. In a world where we constantly try to define ourselves by how we are not like this person or that person, Hughes manages -- usually in the last fifteen minutes of the movie -- to say, "Guess again."
Most John Hughes films usually end up on a movie buff's "guilty pleasure" list, but, if we look past the iconic clothing and pop music -- always there for a reason -- these are really some of the best stories to have made it to film. What adversity teaches us about ourselves and our place in the world is a central theme of Home Alone, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, National Lampoon's Vacation, and Sixteen Candles.
As a stage director, I am always looking for the "heart" of the story I'm telling, whether it's a silly spoof, heavy drama, light musical, or something else entirely. I learned this from, of all places, Uncle Buck. While we all may remember from that movie things like "the mole scene", or "the clown scene", or "the golf club scene", what makes that movie a favorite among millions (whether we admit it or not) is its heart.
Spielberg brought us aliens, Scorsese brought us gangsters, but John Hughes brought us something that was ever more fantastic for us to see on-screen. He brought us ourselves.
Thank you, Mr. Hughes.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
An Incompleat Education
I dropped in on The Compleat Works of William Shakespeare (abridged) party last night along with fellow blogger, college professor, and ninja Jenn Zuko (of Daily Cross-Swords).
I know that I can always count on this show for a lot of laughs -- even when performed (as it often is) by the three "funniest" guys in a local community theatre.
I knew that the Colorado Shakespeare Festival would easily surpass that expectation having already seen Geoff Kent, Matt Mueller, and Stephen Weitz in other CSF shows this summer. Jenn said that she wanted to write "dueling blogs" on the show, so I went into the theatre with my blog topic already in mind:
How The Compleat Works is a great way to introduce the uninitiated or fearful to the work of Shakespeare. Not bad, right?
It was fitting, too, because, while the concept of 3 guys attempting to perform 37 plays in one evening is a grand spoof, we are also treated to a great affection for the words and characters. Amid the raucous laughter, the "what a piece of work is man" monologue sneaks up on us and stuns. Kinda like a ninja, right Jenn?
And these guys do it so well. There is a trick to a show like this, and that is to make it seem unrehearsed and spontaneous, and it's not easy. The best I've ever seen at it is a man by the name of Bob Moore, but Kent, Mueller, and Weitz are pretty darn good at it, too.
With audience participation a big part of this production, there is no shortage of genuine spontaneity, either.
However, my original blog plan de-railed as I enjoyed the show in the context of the rest of the summer offerings at CSF.
I kept thinking, if you think Geoff Kent is charming here, you should really see him as Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing (which closes August 7th, so hurry!). The man's char
isma really should receive separate billing. As Matt Mueller juggles multiple roles in the trio's Hamlet parody, I found myself recalling how adroitly he handled the bizarre duality of Proteus in CSF's cleverly-staged production of the complicated Two Gentlemen of Verona (ends August 9th, folks!). On the subject of Hamlet, Stephen Weitz's interpretation of the Danish Prince is one of the better I've seen (if not the best) and Philip Sneed's brilliant production (also ends August 9th) is fodder for much of the humor in Compleat's spoof.
So, essentially, I found a flaw in my original concept. You see, the best production for the uninitiated or fearful of Shakespeare is. . . Shakespeare. Shakespeare done well to be precise, and I saw a lot of Shakespeare done well this summer at the CSF.
So, yes, go see The Compleat Works of William Shakespeare (abridged). It's funny as hell. You'll laugh your butt off, but just don't let that be your only exposure to Shakespeare this summer, especially when there are at least three great productions worth seeing as well.
Photo by Casey A. Cass for CU Communications.
I know that I can always count on this show for a lot of laughs -- even when performed (as it often is) by the three "funniest" guys in a local community theatre.
I knew that the Colorado Shakespeare Festival would easily surpass that expectation having already seen Geoff Kent, Matt Mueller, and Stephen Weitz in other CSF shows this summer. Jenn said that she wanted to write "dueling blogs" on the show, so I went into the theatre with my blog topic already in mind:
How The Compleat Works is a great way to introduce the uninitiated or fearful to the work of Shakespeare. Not bad, right?
It was fitting, too, because, while the concept of 3 guys attempting to perform 37 plays in one evening is a grand spoof, we are also treated to a great affection for the words and characters. Amid the raucous laughter, the "what a piece of work is man" monologue sneaks up on us and stuns. Kinda like a ninja, right Jenn?
And these guys do it so well. There is a trick to a show like this, and that is to make it seem unrehearsed and spontaneous, and it's not easy. The best I've ever seen at it is a man by the name of Bob Moore, but Kent, Mueller, and Weitz are pretty darn good at it, too.
With audience participation a big part of this production, there is no shortage of genuine spontaneity, either.
However, my original blog plan de-railed as I enjoyed the show in the context of the rest of the summer offerings at CSF.
I kept thinking, if you think Geoff Kent is charming here, you should really see him as Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing (which closes August 7th, so hurry!). The man's char
isma really should receive separate billing. As Matt Mueller juggles multiple roles in the trio's Hamlet parody, I found myself recalling how adroitly he handled the bizarre duality of Proteus in CSF's cleverly-staged production of the complicated Two Gentlemen of Verona (ends August 9th, folks!). On the subject of Hamlet, Stephen Weitz's interpretation of the Danish Prince is one of the better I've seen (if not the best) and Philip Sneed's brilliant production (also ends August 9th) is fodder for much of the humor in Compleat's spoof.So, essentially, I found a flaw in my original concept. You see, the best production for the uninitiated or fearful of Shakespeare is. . . Shakespeare. Shakespeare done well to be precise, and I saw a lot of Shakespeare done well this summer at the CSF.
So, yes, go see The Compleat Works of William Shakespeare (abridged). It's funny as hell. You'll laugh your butt off, but just don't let that be your only exposure to Shakespeare this summer, especially when there are at least three great productions worth seeing as well.
Photo by Casey A. Cass for CU Communications.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Littleton High School: Please Educate Me
Dear Littleton High School:
I consider myself a knowledgeable man. I read. I watch the Discovery Channel. I have always thought of myself as a reasonably intelligent fellow. Show me how to do something seventeen, eighteen times, and I've got it.
However, I am shattered to find that I am not as smart as I thought.
It has been brought to my attention recently that you, Littleton High School, have decided not to continue to rent your facility to Magic Moments, Inc., the arts organization that has for twenty-six years (a great many of those in your facility) been a creative outlet for, a financial contributor to, and a great celebrator of the disabled community here in the Denver area.
As I understand it, the creative minds behind the years of wonderful Magical Moments musical productions are now also having to devote a lot of that creativity toward locating a new facility that can manage their large, highly inclusive casts -- many of whom have very specific accessibility needs. As far as I'm aware, they are still looking.
I'm afraid that you may just have to keep me after class on this subject, because I'll tell you this: as hard as I try, I just can't seem to make the math add up.
Now, before you slap my hand with the ruler and make me sit in the corner with the dunce cap on my head, let me just walk through my steps, so we can see where I went awry.
Magic Moments has been renting your theatre facility for the better part of two decades; putting on shows that entertain, inspire, and educate; providing opportunities for individuals with physical and developmental abilities to be involved and frequently showcased in the performing arts; playing to full houses of enthusiastic and appreciative audience; all the while raising much-needed funds to support the disabled community of the greater Denver area.
During this time, Littleton High School has also had a thriving and much-respected performing arts program that certainly does not appear to have been too greatly hampered by the sharing of the space with Magic Moments.
This part I get. A+B =C, where C is a small community of artists working harmoniously together for the greater good.
However, I do not understand this new equation wherein by adding "X", Magic Moments is subtracted from the whole.
There are a number of possible solutions for "X," but I'm not sure that I like any of them very much.
For example, "X" could equal your not thinking that Magic Moments puts on a very good show. Surely you don't think that. Boasting performers and artists of such talent as Lucy Roucis, Leonard Barrett, Regan Linton, Michelle Merz-Hutchison, Anita Boland, and many others, Magic Moments has been the hottest ticket in town every spring since I've lived in Denver.
"X" could also equal the position that Magic Moments isn't very important. Again, though, that doesn't fit, because even a dunce like me can see that Magic Moments has an enormous impact in the lives of its performers, its audience, and the recipients of the funds that they raise every year.
There are other possibilities for "X" that seem to include things like greed or inconvenience or prejudice, but they aren't even worth mentioning. It couldn't possibly be any of those, now, could it?
In fact, the only solution for "X" that seems to make any sense at all seems highly implausible. Can it be that you have found an even better use for your facility? Is it truly possible that you, Littleton High School, are embarking upon a project so grand, so broad, so inclusive, and so philanthropic that it will make the contribution of Magic Moments to this community every year seem utterly meager? Well, that certainly sounds exciting. I, for one, cannot wait to see what you have to present in March of 2010. I'm almost giddy.
Still, the difficulty that I have had in arriving at the solution to this little story problem suggests to me that perhaps I need some extra help. Perhaps the creation of a remedial course is in order for people like me who just don't get it. I promise to take very good notes.
In fact, I think that there may be many in this community who could benefit from such a course. I think that there are a great many people who may need some help in following your logic on this. I will encourage them to contact you to get signed up for this enlightening little seminar.
I just hope that we can find a facility large enough to support it.
Huffs and Puffs,
The Big Bad Wolf
I consider myself a knowledgeable man. I read. I watch the Discovery Channel. I have always thought of myself as a reasonably intelligent fellow. Show me how to do something seventeen, eighteen times, and I've got it.
However, I am shattered to find that I am not as smart as I thought.
It has been brought to my attention recently that you, Littleton High School, have decided not to continue to rent your facility to Magic Moments, Inc., the arts organization that has for twenty-six years (a great many of those in your facility) been a creative outlet for, a financial contributor to, and a great celebrator of the disabled community here in the Denver area.
As I understand it, the creative minds behind the years of wonderful Magical Moments musical productions are now also having to devote a lot of that creativity toward locating a new facility that can manage their large, highly inclusive casts -- many of whom have very specific accessibility needs. As far as I'm aware, they are still looking.
I'm afraid that you may just have to keep me after class on this subject, because I'll tell you this: as hard as I try, I just can't seem to make the math add up.
Now, before you slap my hand with the ruler and make me sit in the corner with the dunce cap on my head, let me just walk through my steps, so we can see where I went awry.
Magic Moments has been renting your theatre facility for the better part of two decades; putting on shows that entertain, inspire, and educate; providing opportunities for individuals with physical and developmental abilities to be involved and frequently showcased in the performing arts; playing to full houses of enthusiastic and appreciative audience; all the while raising much-needed funds to support the disabled community of the greater Denver area.
During this time, Littleton High School has also had a thriving and much-respected performing arts program that certainly does not appear to have been too greatly hampered by the sharing of the space with Magic Moments.
This part I get. A+B =C, where C is a small community of artists working harmoniously together for the greater good.
However, I do not understand this new equation wherein by adding "X", Magic Moments is subtracted from the whole.
There are a number of possible solutions for "X," but I'm not sure that I like any of them very much.
For example, "X" could equal your not thinking that Magic Moments puts on a very good show. Surely you don't think that. Boasting performers and artists of such talent as Lucy Roucis, Leonard Barrett, Regan Linton, Michelle Merz-Hutchison, Anita Boland, and many others, Magic Moments has been the hottest ticket in town every spring since I've lived in Denver.
"X" could also equal the position that Magic Moments isn't very important. Again, though, that doesn't fit, because even a dunce like me can see that Magic Moments has an enormous impact in the lives of its performers, its audience, and the recipients of the funds that they raise every year.
There are other possibilities for "X" that seem to include things like greed or inconvenience or prejudice, but they aren't even worth mentioning. It couldn't possibly be any of those, now, could it?
In fact, the only solution for "X" that seems to make any sense at all seems highly implausible. Can it be that you have found an even better use for your facility? Is it truly possible that you, Littleton High School, are embarking upon a project so grand, so broad, so inclusive, and so philanthropic that it will make the contribution of Magic Moments to this community every year seem utterly meager? Well, that certainly sounds exciting. I, for one, cannot wait to see what you have to present in March of 2010. I'm almost giddy.
Still, the difficulty that I have had in arriving at the solution to this little story problem suggests to me that perhaps I need some extra help. Perhaps the creation of a remedial course is in order for people like me who just don't get it. I promise to take very good notes.
In fact, I think that there may be many in this community who could benefit from such a course. I think that there are a great many people who may need some help in following your logic on this. I will encourage them to contact you to get signed up for this enlightening little seminar.
I just hope that we can find a facility large enough to support it.
Huffs and Puffs,
The Big Bad Wolf
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Man of La Mancha Video
I followed Leonard Barrett around backstage Friday night before and during his performance as Cervantes/Don Quixote in PHAMALy's Man of La Mancha to get a look at the process for his extensive make-up designed by Todd Debrecini and applied by Kamala Madden.
Here's the video.
(I had to speed thing up a bit because it's a lengthy process, and some of the high-speed effects didn't compress as well as I'd have liked. Still, you get the idea. Plus: Leonard sings!)
Here's the video.
(I had to speed thing up a bit because it's a lengthy process, and some of the high-speed effects didn't compress as well as I'd have liked. Still, you get the idea. Plus: Leonard sings!)
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Without Question or Pause
I was fortunate enough to be able to lurk in the shadows of Friday night's performance of PHAMALy's Man of La Mancha. It isn't what you think, I'm working on a little something for the blog, and I needed to be unobtrusive. (Though never doubt that I might be lurking in the shadows at any moment.)
I do love that show. I often feel such a kinship with Don Quixote de La Mancha. I have often been accused of tilting at windmills myself (as recently as last week). My causes are many.
Also, to see more in a person or a thing than anyone realized was there before is the kind of madness I can get behind. I have done that often enough, and I have been both adored and reviled for it - sometimes within minutes of one another and by the same person. I am I, Don Quixote, and perhaps I always will be.
If you want to read a review of the show, I recommend Juliet Wittman's in Westword, though I did spy John Moore in the audience so his may be forthcoming as well. Do read John's article on PHAMALy regular Leonard Barrett and his battle with MS, if you get a chance. It is a moving story.
I have heard a number of people exclaim that Man of La Mancha is PHAMALy's best show ever. I'm not sure I agree with that -- not because it wasn't very, very good, because it was -- but rather because PHAMALy has had so many amazing productions that I find it difficult to qualify one as being "the best."
Leonard Barrett as the title character is, well, Leonard Barrett. I am loathe to find words to describe what this man brings to the stage, so I propose that "Leonard Barrett" be sufficient description from now on. Perhaps, even, it can find its way into everyday life:
"Hey, that blueberry pie with ice cream sure looks good."
"Oh, yes, it is totally Leonard Barrett!"
Regan Linton as the fiery Aldonza brings to the role every bit of talent and creation that earned her a best actress award from the Colorado Theatre Guild. I'm lost for words to describe her performance as well, but perhaps it is for the best, since I am incapable of any objectivity where Regan is concerned. I am not alone in this affliction. To call this woman "remarkable" would be a gross understatement.
PHAMALy is arguably Denver's favorite theatre company and refuses to rest on its laurels or settle in as a "token" group, which they could easily do, and no one would fault them for it.
I am always in awe of these performers, for many of whom singing, dancing, even moving is only done with great personal effort and no small amount of peril.
I was reminded backstage of how being able to catch oneself from falling when tripping over something in the dark is an ability that I and many others take for granted.
The word "inspiring" has been robbed of its meaning by the countless reality shows who use it in meaningless platitudes.
I would like to take that meaning back now, thank you.
PHAMALy is inspiring.
I do love that show. I often feel such a kinship with Don Quixote de La Mancha. I have often been accused of tilting at windmills myself (as recently as last week). My causes are many.
Also, to see more in a person or a thing than anyone realized was there before is the kind of madness I can get behind. I have done that often enough, and I have been both adored and reviled for it - sometimes within minutes of one another and by the same person. I am I, Don Quixote, and perhaps I always will be.
If you want to read a review of the show, I recommend Juliet Wittman's in Westword, though I did spy John Moore in the audience so his may be forthcoming as well. Do read John's article on PHAMALy regular Leonard Barrett and his battle with MS, if you get a chance. It is a moving story.
I have heard a number of people exclaim that Man of La Mancha is PHAMALy's best show ever. I'm not sure I agree with that -- not because it wasn't very, very good, because it was -- but rather because PHAMALy has had so many amazing productions that I find it difficult to qualify one as being "the best."
Leonard Barrett as the title character is, well, Leonard Barrett. I am loathe to find words to describe what this man brings to the stage, so I propose that "Leonard Barrett" be sufficient description from now on. Perhaps, even, it can find its way into everyday life:
"Hey, that blueberry pie with ice cream sure looks good."
"Oh, yes, it is totally Leonard Barrett!"
Regan Linton as the fiery Aldonza brings to the role every bit of talent and creation that earned her a best actress award from the Colorado Theatre Guild. I'm lost for words to describe her performance as well, but perhaps it is for the best, since I am incapable of any objectivity where Regan is concerned. I am not alone in this affliction. To call this woman "remarkable" would be a gross understatement.
PHAMALy is arguably Denver's favorite theatre company and refuses to rest on its laurels or settle in as a "token" group, which they could easily do, and no one would fault them for it.
I am always in awe of these performers, for many of whom singing, dancing, even moving is only done with great personal effort and no small amount of peril.
I was reminded backstage of how being able to catch oneself from falling when tripping over something in the dark is an ability that I and many others take for granted.
The word "inspiring" has been robbed of its meaning by the countless reality shows who use it in meaningless platitudes.
I would like to take that meaning back now, thank you.
PHAMALy is inspiring.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)