by Jenni Morin
There is one more chance to catch Teatro Faralito artist José Rubén De León perform the English version of his one-man show, LORCA, presented by Matari Café Teatro at their Starcrest studio at 8 p.m. on Saturday, May 17. The Spanish version of the performance will run Saturdays at 8 p.m. June 21 through July 12.
Written and performed by De León, LORCA covers the life and works of one of the most significant writers of the 20th century, Spanish poet and dramatist Federico García Lorca. The Spanish Civil War serves as a political background for the play, which introduces audiences to García Lorca’s prose, poetry, theater, and songs, as well as people who played significant roles at different stages of his life. LORCA is set on a definitive moment in the writer's life, the day of his arrest prior to his assassination on August 19, 1936 by anti-Republican rebels. His books were destroyed and works banned for almost twenty years.
"One of the reasons he became a target is because the Catholic priests disliked his plays," says De León. "They considered them immoral and an attack on traditional values. The priests claimed his work was dangerously subversive."
As one of San Antonio's most talented artists and performers, De León presents this work with a signature intensity worthy of its namesake. "The play ends with Lorca on his knees trying desperately to remember a simple prayer his mother taught him when he was a child," De Leon explains. "But his time is up, Franco's soldiers are coming up the stairs to arrest him. He will be taken to an olive grove and shot three times in the ass because he was a homosexual."
"Lorca's life was as remarkable as his work," says De León. "He was not only a poet and playwright, but also a pianist, artist, actor, and lecturer."
De León's works are a source of beauty and tragedy, celebration and mourning as audiences discover the depths of the characters he portrays.
LORCA plays Saturday, May 17 at 8 p.m. in English and Saturdays at 8 p.m. June 21 through July 12 in Spanish at 11950 Starcrest Dr., Suite 210. Call 410-499-0922 for reservations and more information. There is a suggested donation of $10 for the performance.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
Dead Man's Cell Phone Needs Upgrade
by Jenni Morin
It’s not news that the very technology meant to connect the world causes further isolation and an undeniable dependence. Sarah Ruhl’s award-winning play, Dead Man’s Cell Phone, is a study of just how pervasive the issue has become—and it was written seven years ago. Amidst both mundane and surprisingly intimate interactions are glimmers of existentialist philosophy and what seems to be a changing definition of life, death and love. This interesting, slightly dark comedy runs at The Playhouse Cellar Theater through June 1.
Jean is withdrawn, trudging through life without the one piece of technology that can confirm her relationship to the world around her. As a cell phone incessantly rings, breaking her solitude in a café, she suddenly becomes connected—not just to Gordon, the deceased owner of the phone, but to all of his family and acquaintances, and by extension, the world. As she speaks to Gordon’s business associates and meets his mistress, his wife Hermia, his brother Dwight and his mother Mrs. Gottlieb, Jean feels inclined to make them feel loved and connected to Gordon after his passing. Just as conversations are transmitted over the air, Jean pulls stories from thin air about the perfect person she imagines Gordon to be. In the end, it’s more about love than it is about technology, but it’s the connections with people and even places that make this piece intriguing and apropos.
Sarah Fisch captures the awkward character of Jean, albeit a bit flatly and subdued in the beginning. Kathy Couser accurately portrayed the icy, frail matriarch, Mrs. Gottlieb. As the Other Woman, Marisa Varela stole the scene in transition with a seductive smoking session. E.J. Roberts was one of the most consistent actors on stage as he played Dwight, Gordon’s younger, less charismatic brother. Meredith Alvarez played Hermia, Gordon’s wife, with confidence and a bluntness perfectly suited to her. Matthew Byron Cassi played the title character of Gordon flawlessly, spouting insights from beyond the grave with an unrepentant calmness indicative of Ruhl’s overall tone for the play.
Director Andrew Thornton effectively highlighted these insightful monologues and shimmering gems in the script. He also carved out space for those ironic and comedic moments, keeping the audience engaged.
Sarah Martin’s set was minimalist yet intricate at the same time with hidden compartments and a wall of small compartments reminiscent of an old mailroom awaiting messages. But it was Kaitlin Muse’s lighting design that brought it to life unexpectedly and spectacularly. Unfortunately for a play dependent on the sound of a cell phone ringing, the quality and execution of the sound effects were not up to par. However, the music chosen for the scene transitions was superbly fitting for the tone of the play.
Some of the costuming choices seemed outdated in the era of cell phones. A little more thought should have gone into Jean’s costuming where something more flattering would have benefited the actress and better complimented the dialogue. This might have made it easier to overlook the regrettable dismissal of the other characters’ description of Jean’s character, which is quite symbolic in the script.
The production as a whole felt slightly awkward when this type of fantasy-realism requires a certain crispness in execution to overcome its quirkiness and absurdity. Ruhl’s script is an important theatre piece, even if it is a little peculiar and difficult to pull off.
If for no other reason, this production is worth the trip for the philosophical points it raises about love, connections, technology, death and human existence. Dead Man’s Cell Phone is a thought-provoking play meant to spark a discussion. When cell phones are off and the lights go down, anything could happen—even a connection.
Dead Man’s Cell Phone runs at The Playhouse’s Cellar Theater through June 1 with performances on Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and on Sundays at 3 p.m. and 8 p.m. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit theplayhousesa.org.
It’s not news that the very technology meant to connect the world causes further isolation and an undeniable dependence. Sarah Ruhl’s award-winning play, Dead Man’s Cell Phone, is a study of just how pervasive the issue has become—and it was written seven years ago. Amidst both mundane and surprisingly intimate interactions are glimmers of existentialist philosophy and what seems to be a changing definition of life, death and love. This interesting, slightly dark comedy runs at The Playhouse Cellar Theater through June 1.
Jean is withdrawn, trudging through life without the one piece of technology that can confirm her relationship to the world around her. As a cell phone incessantly rings, breaking her solitude in a café, she suddenly becomes connected—not just to Gordon, the deceased owner of the phone, but to all of his family and acquaintances, and by extension, the world. As she speaks to Gordon’s business associates and meets his mistress, his wife Hermia, his brother Dwight and his mother Mrs. Gottlieb, Jean feels inclined to make them feel loved and connected to Gordon after his passing. Just as conversations are transmitted over the air, Jean pulls stories from thin air about the perfect person she imagines Gordon to be. In the end, it’s more about love than it is about technology, but it’s the connections with people and even places that make this piece intriguing and apropos.
Sarah Fisch captures the awkward character of Jean, albeit a bit flatly and subdued in the beginning. Kathy Couser accurately portrayed the icy, frail matriarch, Mrs. Gottlieb. As the Other Woman, Marisa Varela stole the scene in transition with a seductive smoking session. E.J. Roberts was one of the most consistent actors on stage as he played Dwight, Gordon’s younger, less charismatic brother. Meredith Alvarez played Hermia, Gordon’s wife, with confidence and a bluntness perfectly suited to her. Matthew Byron Cassi played the title character of Gordon flawlessly, spouting insights from beyond the grave with an unrepentant calmness indicative of Ruhl’s overall tone for the play.
Director Andrew Thornton effectively highlighted these insightful monologues and shimmering gems in the script. He also carved out space for those ironic and comedic moments, keeping the audience engaged.
Sarah Martin’s set was minimalist yet intricate at the same time with hidden compartments and a wall of small compartments reminiscent of an old mailroom awaiting messages. But it was Kaitlin Muse’s lighting design that brought it to life unexpectedly and spectacularly. Unfortunately for a play dependent on the sound of a cell phone ringing, the quality and execution of the sound effects were not up to par. However, the music chosen for the scene transitions was superbly fitting for the tone of the play.
Some of the costuming choices seemed outdated in the era of cell phones. A little more thought should have gone into Jean’s costuming where something more flattering would have benefited the actress and better complimented the dialogue. This might have made it easier to overlook the regrettable dismissal of the other characters’ description of Jean’s character, which is quite symbolic in the script.
The production as a whole felt slightly awkward when this type of fantasy-realism requires a certain crispness in execution to overcome its quirkiness and absurdity. Ruhl’s script is an important theatre piece, even if it is a little peculiar and difficult to pull off.
If for no other reason, this production is worth the trip for the philosophical points it raises about love, connections, technology, death and human existence. Dead Man’s Cell Phone is a thought-provoking play meant to spark a discussion. When cell phones are off and the lights go down, anything could happen—even a connection.
Dead Man’s Cell Phone runs at The Playhouse’s Cellar Theater through June 1 with performances on Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and on Sundays at 3 p.m. and 8 p.m. For more information and to reserve tickets, visit theplayhousesa.org.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Private Lives: Resurgence of Wit
by Jenni Morin
If done well, Noel Coward’s Private Lives is so much more than a 1930s British comedy of stereotypical verbose stiffs. Classic Theatre’s production of Private Lives, showing now through May 25, is a wonderful tribute to Coward’s work, showcasing the depths of the script and what a good company can do with it.
When Elyot Chase and Amanda Prynne are honeymooning with their new spouses, Sybil and Victor, they least expect to see their exes of five years. After three years of marriage, they couldn’t take the verbal and physical abuse from one another, but as they reunite, Elyot and Amanda can’t help but feel that familiar passion. They run away together, leaving their new spouses behind, only to find fighting to be as inevitable and alluring as their love for one another.
Anna Gangai is truly the star of this production. Not only does she own the character of Amanda Prynne, she brings out the best in her castmates. She is a force with precise comedic timing and contagious unceasing energy, carrying the play with vigor through the final scene. Wade Young truly becomes Elyot Chase when he’s joined onstage by Gangai, which makes sense given Elyot’s unconscious uneasiness with his new wife. Young and Gangai are paired perfectly as they’ve mastered the art of insults and unrelenting passion. Christina Casella takes on the wistful Sybil Chase with grace and soft fluid movements and delightful facial expressions and reactions not to be missed. Like Casella, Guy Schaafs embodies the expected masculine, reserved Victor Prynne. They make another couple a joy to watch bicker and slap each other silly. As Louise the maid, Linda Ford brings comedic relief to tense awkward scenes between the couples.
On the surface, Private Lives is simply a comedy of manners satirizing the lives of wealthy British aristocrats in the early 20th century. But it’s also a tragedy of sorts—where two people so desperately in love bring out the worst in one another, creating a world where they can neither live with or without the other. Part of what makes the script an enduring classic lies in the references to expectations of gender roles, marriage and morality. As the new spouses voice their preferences of what suites a woman or a man, they also dig up marital roles and a rigid morality unbefitting Amanda and Elyot.
Director Tim Hedgepeth does an amazing job bringing out the subtle sadness Coward buried in the script. Amanda and Elyot’s love/hate relationship makes for wild mood swings and few serious moments as the characters bounce from giddiness to hatred, which could be difficult to present if not fully invested in the brazen repartee. Relying entirely on the dialogue for humor can make the characters seem stiff, but Hedgepeth infused the production with movement. Playing with over dramatic gestures to accompany the outrageous quips allowed the characters to rise above any haughtiness that usually bogs down British comedies.
The Classic’s production value seems to be rising as Rick Malone continues to masterfully mix sound and Tim Francis sprinkles subdued colors and textures to set the scene with his lighting. Allan S. Ross designed a spectacle of a set with a grand transition at intermission and exquisite attention to detail and decoration. His ode to art deco with arches, metallics and bold colors brings home the 1930s setting. As usual, Diane Malone’s costumes add to the considerable detailing of the production.
In this day and age of soaring divorce rates, disconnectedness, questionable social etiquette and abbreviated phrases, Coward’s comedy is a celebration of language and a seemingly dying wit associated with intelligent insult. This production shows great respect for setting and detail, subtlety and keenly executed ludicrous banter. Classic Theatre reintroduces Coward’s Private Lives to San Antonio audiences with an impeccably talented cast and much appreciated tenacity.
Private Lives will run at Classic Theatre’s through May 25, 2014 with performances at 8 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays and 3 p.m. on Sundays. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit www.theclassictheatre.org.
If done well, Noel Coward’s Private Lives is so much more than a 1930s British comedy of stereotypical verbose stiffs. Classic Theatre’s production of Private Lives, showing now through May 25, is a wonderful tribute to Coward’s work, showcasing the depths of the script and what a good company can do with it.
Private Lives runs through May 25. |
Anna Gangai is truly the star of this production. Not only does she own the character of Amanda Prynne, she brings out the best in her castmates. She is a force with precise comedic timing and contagious unceasing energy, carrying the play with vigor through the final scene. Wade Young truly becomes Elyot Chase when he’s joined onstage by Gangai, which makes sense given Elyot’s unconscious uneasiness with his new wife. Young and Gangai are paired perfectly as they’ve mastered the art of insults and unrelenting passion. Christina Casella takes on the wistful Sybil Chase with grace and soft fluid movements and delightful facial expressions and reactions not to be missed. Like Casella, Guy Schaafs embodies the expected masculine, reserved Victor Prynne. They make another couple a joy to watch bicker and slap each other silly. As Louise the maid, Linda Ford brings comedic relief to tense awkward scenes between the couples.
On the surface, Private Lives is simply a comedy of manners satirizing the lives of wealthy British aristocrats in the early 20th century. But it’s also a tragedy of sorts—where two people so desperately in love bring out the worst in one another, creating a world where they can neither live with or without the other. Part of what makes the script an enduring classic lies in the references to expectations of gender roles, marriage and morality. As the new spouses voice their preferences of what suites a woman or a man, they also dig up marital roles and a rigid morality unbefitting Amanda and Elyot.
Director Tim Hedgepeth does an amazing job bringing out the subtle sadness Coward buried in the script. Amanda and Elyot’s love/hate relationship makes for wild mood swings and few serious moments as the characters bounce from giddiness to hatred, which could be difficult to present if not fully invested in the brazen repartee. Relying entirely on the dialogue for humor can make the characters seem stiff, but Hedgepeth infused the production with movement. Playing with over dramatic gestures to accompany the outrageous quips allowed the characters to rise above any haughtiness that usually bogs down British comedies.
The Classic’s production value seems to be rising as Rick Malone continues to masterfully mix sound and Tim Francis sprinkles subdued colors and textures to set the scene with his lighting. Allan S. Ross designed a spectacle of a set with a grand transition at intermission and exquisite attention to detail and decoration. His ode to art deco with arches, metallics and bold colors brings home the 1930s setting. As usual, Diane Malone’s costumes add to the considerable detailing of the production.
In this day and age of soaring divorce rates, disconnectedness, questionable social etiquette and abbreviated phrases, Coward’s comedy is a celebration of language and a seemingly dying wit associated with intelligent insult. This production shows great respect for setting and detail, subtlety and keenly executed ludicrous banter. Classic Theatre reintroduces Coward’s Private Lives to San Antonio audiences with an impeccably talented cast and much appreciated tenacity.
Private Lives will run at Classic Theatre’s through May 25, 2014 with performances at 8 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays and 3 p.m. on Sundays. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit www.theclassictheatre.org.
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