Thursday evening was the last performance of "Transformations: A Fairy Tale Masque." It is a Performance Works piece based on the poems of Anne Sexton as adapted by director Patricia Pace. "Transformations" was a series of skits with plots centering around familiar fairy tales.
The skits used nine fairy tales. Several were famous: Snow White, Rumpelstiltskin, Rapunzel, Cinderella, Red Riding Hood and Hansel and Gretel. There were also the lesser known tales of Iron Hans and the Frog Prince. The last tale was Briar Rose, a.k.a. Sleeping Beauty.
The programs were tastefully done with cream-colored paper. The skit scenarios were witty mock movie descriptions, complete with ratings. The program's cover, and also flyer for the production, was Gothic; though it served well for the programs, it was somewhat visually ineffective as a flyer.
The music for the production was varied. The performance began with a jazzy song. The rest of the music spanned from Michael Jackson to Kate Bush. The title song to "Sanford and Son" was included.
The ten performers served as both set and scenery, their bodies function as gates, wells, gardens and towers. The only physical set piece was a large toy box, containing masks.
The performers simply wore street clothes as since the main costume emphasis was the use of masks, which were worn by most of the main characters.
The masks, done by Dan Prince, were dramatic and quirky. The Rumpelstiltskin mask seemed like a demented Mickey Mouse. Cinderella had a Wheel of Fortune hat attachment. A modified Jason hockey mask was used for the Red Riding Hood Wolf mask.
Hansel and Gretel appropriately had candy-shaped masks; a lifesaver for Gretel and a wrapped hard candy for Hansel. Iron Hans' nose was blatantly phallic.
The skits were framed by a narrator who was also the Anne Sexton character. Generally, the skits were highly sexually charged. Homosexual themes underscored both the Iron Hans and Rapunzel skits. The Briar Rose skit had an incest focus.
All the skits satirized both passive, silly female role models and "Handsome Prince" roles in traditional fairy tales. They also showed the more dark and violent roots of fairy tales.
The performance itself was engaging. It was often funny and very wry. There was heavy usage of tableau scenes. Much of the movement bordered on acrobatics, requiring tumbling and difficult, almost awkward poses.
Many of the poses were very sexual. Actors writhed and gyrated throughout much of the performance.
There was more than a dash of pop culture evident in the production. References ranging from The State's "Pudding" sketch to Vanna White were embedded in the work. Rumpelstiltskin was Michael Jackson down to his moonwalk and pelvic grab.
Each skit centered around three or four main performers. The rest of the cast served as a sort of Greek chorus. Through the usage of masks and alternating actors for main characters, the main focus of the production was on the performers as a whole rather than on certain individuals. This approach was very organic and holistic.
There were a few difficulties. A couple of the masks somewhat inhibited the voice projection of the actors. Also, the imagery of the words would occasionally get lost in the sheer physicality of the performance.
The main problem however was due to the poor facilities. Room 101 of the Communication Arts Building seats only ninety people. Since the turnout was large, it was crowded and not very comfortable.
Due the room's small size, the air conditioning had to be shut off in order to hear the performers; thus, the room became very stuffy and warm. The room was simply not actor nor spectator friendly.
Overall, the performance was excellent. It was a droll, very modern interpretation of fairy tales that was a pleasure for the eye, the ear, and even the mind.
The second performance of The Wiz Friday night at McCroan Auditorium had a large turnout. At 7:45, the ticket line reached into Sweetheart Circle. The auditorium was packed.
The play started, and the lights shone on an Expressionistic set; just a stark farmhouse in exaggerated perspective sitting on a large, round, turning platform. The backdrop was a sheet of white scrim.
For scene changes, the scrim would rise and stage hands turned the platform. This glimpse into the workings of the stage reflected a Brecht influence. The rest of the scenes were just as sparse: red balloons for poppy fields, a large green head with disco-ball eyes in the Wiz ’s lair, and a Voodoo-inspired throne for Evillene’s kingdom.
The gate to Emerald City was one of the most interesting props. It was green and delicate with an intricate lotus-like pattern.
The lighting complemented the sparse set. There was ample use of disco ball lighting for Emerald City scenes; it seemed like the seventies all over again.
The costumes provided most of the color on the stage. There were the obvious choices of a simple dress for Dorothy and the Scarecrow’s patched outfit. Yet some of the choices were quirky and surprising.
Addaperle wore purple robes with a worn red boa. Evillene’s costume was powerful with strong colors such as black and orange. The Munchkins wore bright colors. Of course everyone in Emerald City wore green.
The acting was outstanding, and the energy was high. It was campy in the extreme with everyone upstaging everyone else. Shenica Bridges made a perky Dorothy. Robert Meguiar played the Lion with an Elvis twist, and Kail Kemp was a smart-alec scarecrow. Jennifer Bolt’s Addaperle was a street-smart, Second-rate Vegas magician. Mario D. Webb was a highly convincing evangelistic Wiz.
The singing was excellent as well. Shaunta Ellis-Rock, D’mitri Mosley and Tiwana Turner practically stole the show with their solos. Keisha York’s opening song as Aunt Em was touching and pretty. Even the pit singers stood out, not simply because of their great voices, but because of their personalities.
There seemed to be a few 90s twists to this disco-era musical. The Emerald city citizens stood in Vogue poses while acting very hip. The Winged Monkeys were ninja monkeys. There was even a recurring costume theme of high-top Converses.
One of the best things about the performances was the audience. They were very responsive. They enjoyed every minute and laughed enthusiastically.
There were a few problems. The live instruments, though very good, did at times overwhelm the singing. This is a typical problem with live music. However, the musicians added more to than detracted from the performance.
The choreography for the tornado dancers was ineffective. They simply didn’t reflect a tornado’s fierce winds. Also, the Winged Monkey fight scene was somewhat flat.
The main problem was the heat. McCroan’s only cooling sources are fans. The fans had to be stopped for the performance, so the audience and the performers had to endure the stifling heat.
Overall, the performance was wonderful. It was very funny and highly involving. It was impossible not to get caught up in the campy funk of the play or in the energy of the cast.
Theatre USC's production of Arsenic and Old Lace at Drayton Hall runs this week; however there was a complimentary performance this past Thursday. The play was written by Joseph Kesselring in 1938 and was originally entitled Bodies in our Cellar. Retitled Arsenic and Old Lace, the play opened on January 10, 1941 and later spawned a movie starring Cary Grant.
The curtain rose on a neat parlor, perfect for two maidenly sisters. The set detail was quite accurate down to the moldings and the wall pictures. There was even a fireplace and a beautiful door transom. The room was so cozy and seemed a lovely place for tea and biscuits with homemade jam.
The lighting was outstanding, varying form soothing and comfortable to foreboding. The most impressive detail was the lighting through the windows and the front door. As time passed, the light outside changed, dimming as night progressed and brighter when morning came. The only neglected detail was the area around the fireplace which was a bit dark.
The costumes were equally good. The two aunts were appropriately Victorian-esque. All other characters were in forty's period dress. Teddy Brewster's suit would have looked equally suitable on Cary Grant as on it did on Matt Engle. The color choice for Jonathan Brewster's costume was especially apt. The combination of deep red shirt and accents with the black suit was as menacing as an insane criminal should be.
The play was very enjoyable and very funny. Ali Freeman and Tawyna Pamplin did a good job playing the blithely murderous spinster aunts and Engle's physical comedy was quite entertaining. Nathan Terracio played Teddy Brewster, a character who thinks he's Theodore Roosevelt; Terracio was a convincing TR -- very bully. The rest of the cast did well, although some of the accents were inconsistent and Harrison Saunders' Jonathan Brewster was more melodramatic than maniacal.
The audience responded warmly to the play. They not only laughed at the slapstick and double takes but also to the intellectual humor like the well-placed Pirendello joke.
Overall, it was an evening well-spent. The play was humorous and very well done. It's an experience that has something for everyone.
Sex, murder, deceit...it's all there in USC Theatre's The Changeling and all set in the 15th century.
Opening night for Thomas Middleton and William Rowley's The Changeling, directed by Ann Dreher, was Friday, October 27. There was a moderate turnout for the show.
The play first appeared in 1622. It deals with the moral decay of a noble woman, Beatrice-Joanna. She has one of her father's servants, DeFlores, murder her fiance so that she can marry Alsemero. From there on, DeFlores becomes not only her partner in crime but in lust as well.
The entire space of the theater-in-the-round of the Long Street Theatre was completely transformed into a dark, dank castle. Three of the corners were columns, one corner was a balcony. The center of the stage was a pit, surrounded by many levels of steps and platforms; the pit seemed to foreshadow the hellish action that would take place in the play.
The lighting was excellent, making the castle set cold and ancient as Beatrice and Deflores resorted to more and more deception and murder, the lighting became more and more soiled-looking. There were a few moments when actors were in shadows, but that is one of the down sides of theater-in-the-round...it's hard to light perfectly from every angle.
Costuming was beautifully done. There was plenty of brocade and capes. The most beautiful and most appropriate costume was Beatrice's. She consistently wore dark burgundy which was almost blood-colored.
DeFlores's make-up was also very good. The character is suppose to have some sort of skin disease. The make-up made DeFlores's face look very disgusting.
The acting was astounding. Elizabeth Taheri played a passionate and cunning Beatrice. Not only did she effectively portray the dark aspects of her character's nature but she even provided moments of humor. DeFlores, Beatrice's partner in crime, was played by Jayce T. Tromsness. He made the character appropriately repulsive and somewhat pathetic because of DeFlores's love/lust for Beatrice. Matt Horgan was a noble Alsemero. Tamozo De Piracquio played by Akil E. Pinckney was a good, vengeful brother. Plenty of bawdy humor was provided by Alex Smith's Lollio in the madhouse scenes. Chris McCormick and Frank Maharajh, Jr. were entertaining as madman and fool, respectively. Everyone did a wonderful job, although Nate Whitworth's Vermandero was sometimes a bit too stiff.
The directing was clear and very well-done, aptly manipulating the darkness of the play. Only the last scene, the dumb show of Beatrice and DeFlores's descent into hell, seemed counterproductive; it was rather anti-climatic.
Overall, the performance was amazing. Don't let the blank verse and Jacobean speech intimidate you. Go see USC Theatre's The Changeling.
The Puppet Regime, a theatrical student organization of USC, presents Savage in Limbo from March 28 to April 4 at 8 o'clock in the Benson Theatre. Savage in Limbo is a concert play by John Patrick Shanley. It's about an hour and ten minutes with no intermission.
The play takes place during the mid-80's (it was written in 1985 to be exact) and is about five 28 year old adults. The action takes place in the Bronx on a Monday night in a bar called Scales. The play is named for one of the characters, Denise Savage, and is a reference to Dante's The Divine Comedy (but then again, isn't everything?) Most of the characters are experiencing a sort of late twenties crisis -- they realize that their lives are going nowhere and fast. Two of the characters, Savage and Linda Rotunda, still live at home with their parents and one, April White is a drunk. It's a very Gen X play before anyone had realized there was a pattern to the various crises of the Generation.
The turnout on Tuesday night was quite good. Though seating's limited, there were very few open seats.
The set was small, the stage intimate, very appropriate for the number of "to-audience" references in the play. There was a small bar, a couple of tables and a few chairs. The floor and walls were painted black and then splattered with other, brighter paint, giving the illusion of everything floating in space, a visual sort of limbo.
There was quite a musical selection while waiting for the play to begin -- The Jackson 5, Bee Gees ("Jive Talking," no less), Nirvana, even Velvet Underground (complete with Nico). Music was used for each character's entrances, specifically Bjork for Savage and Portishead for Murk, the bartender.
The characters came onto stage from the audience, a significant device to illustrate the similarity between audience members and the play's characters. The acting overall was very good. The Bronx accents were fairly consistent. Meg Madden played a very believable, yet not too overt, drunkard as April White. As Tony Aronica, Frank Mahargih, Jr. was egotistical and womanizing. Tawyna Pamplin played Linda Rotunda strong, loud and large gestures, and Michelle Affront's Denise Savage was understandably confused, bordering on hysterical. Matt Engle played Murk, the bartender, and gave the strongest performance of the group, especially considering his character was somewhat understated when compared to the other flamboyant characters.
The play was amusing, with plenty of sex references and use of the "f-word" and enough pithy statements about life to make it seem deep. Yet there was something lacking in the play. Part of this is intrinsic to the play, written into its many melodramatic monologues. The characters in this play are lost and are beginning to realize this. So, there was certainly a lot of whining and yelling, but there were too many words flying to really convey desperation. At the end, none of the characters were any better off for all their ranting and raving -- probably the point of the play, yet the irony of the backslide is lost in all the talk. There's nothing savage in this play other than in name.
In all fairness, the play is very entertaining. It has its bawdy moments and is relatively accurate in its aim. Though it won't change your life, it'll probably make you think and it will definitely make you laugh.
Last Friday was the opening night for USC Theatre's production of The Baltimore Waltz, written by Paula Vogel and directed by Jim Patterson. The play is described as a surreal farce and was dedicated to the playwright's brother Carl, who died of AIDS in 1988.Every aspect of the production was great, even the program layout.
The Baltimore Waltz is about the adventures of a brother and sister in Europe. The sister, Anna, is terminally ill; she has ATD, acquired toilet disease, a disease that strikes mainly single elementary school teachers. She samples the various foods and men of Europe, while Carl, her brother, visits the art museums and is also mixed up with some sort of espionage involving stuffed bunnies.
The play was performed in Drayton Hall. The cast was small, two constant main characters, one ever-changing character, The Third Man, and a mute stagehand-type character, the Orderly. The length of the play itself was only about an hour and a half. Since the cast's so small and, to underline the close feeling of the play, the audience's placed on the stage with the actors.
The set was minimal yet very impressive The main set piece was a grayish-blue building front; it was very slick and looked real, complete with functional lights on the facade. The only other structural set pieces were geometric windows, which, depending on the lighting, looked clinical, institutional or hotel-esque and a screen that was used at one point to show slides from "Europe" . The use of the space was scintillatingly smart; there wasn't an inch of the set that wasn't used by the actors at some point in the performance.
There weren't that many props either, which shows the genius of Patterson's directing. The one couch was everything from couch, bed (standing on end, mind you), train and park bench.
The lighting was perfect, subtly taking the play from Maryland to various European cities. Disco-ball lighting was even utilized, an impressive use of pop culture without falling into the realm of the cliché.
The costuming was equally minimal as the rest of the performance and equally as good. The costumes were modern street clothes -- well, the two main characters actually wore trench coats and night clothes underneath. This twist of dress was suitably quirky and entertaining.
The sound was very good as well. This is the first USC Theatre performance I've attended in which the sound played a crucially active role with the production. Throughout the play, the sound was very interactive with the action and often adding further personality to the action.
The acting was fabulous. Monica Wyche played Anna, the terminally ill, very horny, and oddly introspective sister. Wyche's portrayal of Anna was terrific -- her turmoil over her illness was very painful and her lust was palpable. The character Carl, who was played by Richard W. Abbot, was the "straight man" of the play, very patient and loving with his sister. Abbot played Carl wittily and wonderfully; his "espionage" scenes with his stuffed bunny were balanced delicatetly between the sinsiter and the capricious. S. Jack Silman's lightening-speed changes from one role to another as The Third Man were dizzying but brilliant. Also, Todd Granham's appearance as the Orderly was solid if brief.
All performed the absurdities of the play with the right amount of flair and humor while delving into the emotion of the play just as adroitly.
The production of The Baltimore Waltzwas stunning. The play takes the audience humorously through the issues of death and oddball situations alike. It is irreverent, and it underscores how precious life is without being preachy or sappy. I even detected a few moist eyes in the audience at the play's end.
It was, so far, the best performance this year for USC Theatre.
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Attending each of the three programs of "The Twelve Days of Dance" was quite an experience.
Program A is in a light-hearted vein, practically perky at points. "Hand in Hand" was wonderfully executed, from both the dancing and the choreographic angles; though somewhat inscrutable, it was extremely humorous . Other notable pieces were "Flaw in the Fabric," a wry look at fashion's effect on people, and "Sorbet" with its zany antics of androgeny. This program was a lot of fun.
Program B was the most erratic of the three programs. The pieces from the first half had obvious "points" but their meanings were lost in the obscurity and hipness of the pieces. "The Language" was one piece, though, that managed to retain both its depth and intensity as well as its quirkiness. "Winds of Change" was also good with its Maypole festivities and men in tights. The last three dances of the the second part were great. "Apogee" was probably one of the most original of the program. The final piece "CSX" was a contemporary piece and was good enough to put in a dance video.
Program C was the most consistent program of the three; each dance seemed to build on the one before it, leading to a feast for both eyes and ears. "Celestial Dance" and "Soul's Burden" were the two most striking. "Celestial Dance" impressively utilized all aspects of the dancers, using masks, odd props and even the dancers' hair. "Soul's Burden" was an amazingly intense one-person performance.
The lighting was splendid for every performance -- at times, it became palpable.
The main flaw for all the programs was a predominant use of stock mannerisms. It's nothing glaring ... more of a subtle cliché than anything else. However, it doesn't diminish the quality of these performances. All three were evenings well spent.
November 12, 13, & 14
Pieces in which both choreography and dancing were strong:
Program IIDaniel Clifton's "Almost Blue" -- a quirky piece incorporating dance, monologue and crossdressing; very fun and unexpected. Vincent Thomas's "You" -- ROTC as you never seen it; a masculine, military boy with a pink flag; very impressive and very sassy. Lynda Davie's excerpt from Yazzo City Station -- a very spunky done to a great song (Howlin' Wolf, "Smokestack Lightnin').
Vincent Thomas's "Con Spirito" -- an innovative piece that reflected the complexities and repetition of themes in the Baroque music without being obvious. Tori Heatherton Sparks' "Chapter 29" -- a strong and intense; very feminist without being overbearing or stereotypical. Merry Lyn Morris's "Attitude" -- an unusual work with effective use of silence and sunglasses.
Courtney Miller's "Silent Revelation" -- lovely costumes; moves related wonderfully to the music; good mixture of syncroncity and asymetrical visual elements. Erin St. John's "Mysterious Echoes" --gorgeous costumes; very eerie piece that was somehow ritualistic; wonderful use of dancing in shadow. Amanda F. Martin's "Nightcap" -- a very athletic and swingy performance; good use of space and quiet. Patricia Philips's "Luminus" -- a dance with an oral interpretation; very good theatrical piece; interesting choices of movements with the words. Anthony Morgan's "Bigfoot" -- a strange but extremely funny.
There were some pieces that had some very strong elements but had a serious flaw:
John Clark's "Spirit, Shadow, A Place with No Name" -- wonderful choreography, delicious set, fabulous costumes, visually beautiful; however, the dualities of his concept -- woman, good; man, bad -- were so typical as to border on trite. Anthony Morgan's "Closed Universe" -- the choreography was very cliché but the dancers, Erin St. John & Kelly Hamilton did a wonderful job nonetheless. John Clark's "Forever" -- again, wonderful set and choreography but extremely obtuse; too confusing to be enjoyable. Lara Ciganko's "Stolen by War" -- Ciganko's dancing was very adroitly done even though I didn't care for the piece's concept or for much of the choreography.
Then there were the ones I didn't like at all:
Every piece by Richard Seis -- Seis's choreography is insipid and completely uninspired; the costumes were great though. Jessie Hood & Monique Stachiw, "Shifting Hands" -- long and tedious; the dancing completely didn't match the text; the bongos were a nice touch. Janet Hughes's "Thread" -- BORING Christine Simone Bergeron's "Calendar" -- pretty much a girl thrashing around on the floor trying mimic intensity.
Perhaps miracles do happen. Last Tuesday, I witnessed a Tallahassee audience that not only participated in a show but dressed up for the occasion. I am, of course, talking about the Bow Wow Wow performance.
It was amazing. I show up 10:30, all decked out in my red latex and 7-inch platform boots (yes, that was me at a towering 5'11") expecting no one to be there since it was not yet the allotted "hip" time of 11:30. But what to my wondering eyes did appear but a throng of people gathered at the Haus of Cow. To top it off, there were actually a few people dressed in something other than jeans and a T-shirt (though, of course, there was still much of that attire). Some were sporting eighties attire (I'm not sure if they were authetic gear or replicas, but who cares). There was a boy or two in a suit, a smattering of dog collars and fair amount of good shoes. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There was even a girl with a mohawk, which made me think, "Did she use hairspray or gel?"
What really astounded me, nay, what flummoxed me, was the fact that the audience responded to the band. If Annabelle wanted the crowd to clap, they did. If Annabelle wanted the crowd to dance, they did. Annabelle wanted the guys to say "Hubba, hubba" and the girls to say "Lover, lover," and by golly they did! And with some amount of enthusiasm. Everybody was jumping and dancing around. A pit even started up for a bit (though thankfully, not for long. I was not in the most sensible of shoes).
And really, the audience should have responded with enthusiasm because it was a great show. The drums were primal, the guitar was rockabilly and Annabelle was dancing around like a savage princess. The bass player wasn't lying when he said they give 120%.
Nor was he lying about the latex pants and rubber kilt. Granted, Annabelle's outfit stole the show. She came out in this animal print skirt that covered just enough to be legal in our swinging city of Tallahassee and a cut-off China top. Bow Wow WOW! Then again, she is the lead singer and that's her job, although I think she goes above and beyond her call of duty.
The energy of the show never lagged. The music was dripping with sex and innuendo. It was good, punk fun with the infectiousness of pop. It really would have been difficult not to get caught in the fun. For an hour and a half, everyone was bopping around in unison, sort of like a hippie commune without the body odor and patchouly.
Of course, there's only one downside to all this ... I want more. We've had 311 and now Bow Wow Wow. What's next Tallahassee?
It was a dark and stormy night Thursday, November 6th, and that evening I beheld angels, demons and miracles. Or rather an angel, a demon and the Florida State University School of Theatre's Lab Production of Peter Barnes' Heaven's Blessing.
The play is loosely based on the "Book of Tobit," a book from the Apocryphia. This book combines folktales to create a testment to faith and belief; thus Barnes' play deals heavily with the issues of faith and belief in the face of adversity. Despite these ponderous themes, the play was very humorous and entertaining and not terribly preachy, though there were points toward the end where the play dragged.
The set was sparse but effective consisting of boxes painted in desert colors and a partitioned backdrop with doors built-in.
The costumes for most of the charcters were the basic Old Testament time period robes. However, the costumes and make-up for the angel Raphael and demon Asmodeus were quite sensational. Raphael was dressed in a white, satin outfit with wide shoulders that was resmiscient of the Next Generation's Vulcan uniform and eyebrows raised in a Spock manner.
Asmodeus's outfit was by far the most flamboyant ... a flame-colored kimono-esque thing with gigantic shoulders. The demon even had long, black nails, a black wig and Kabuki-white make-up -- very impressive.
The acting all around was very solid, their comic timing precise. Because the very fabric of the play, Raphael and Asmeodus stole the show.
The only way Tim Sheridan's Raphael could have been more of a queen was if he had been in sequins and platform pumps. His delivery was rapier and was the perfect combination of wit and extravagence.
Though Bryan Brendle's Asmodeus was only in one scene, his performance was stunning, very grandiose and very thought-provoking. In fact, the scene between Sarah and him was the most tender of the play.
The weakest parts of the play were the musical numbers. In most cases, the numbers were superfluous and at times, annoying; these bits rarely furthered the play's plot or ambiance. The last musical number did provide a wonderfully cheesy and ever-so Disney ending to the play, complete with singing and swaying flowers.
Overall, the play was a lot of fun ... not overly deep but very funny with just the right amount of spectacle.
It's 10 o'clock. It's hot. It's muggy. It's Tallahassee in the summer. To add insult to injury, it's Monday night. You'd like to go out, escape your house and the humid malaise of the city, but what's there to do?
How about jazz? Not just any jazz, but an authentic cool jazz jam session (meaning honest-to-god improvisation) at Waterworks with the David Glover Trio.
Why? Well, because David is a pretty bad-ass drummer and his trio is pretty groovy -- just a drum set, a stand-up bass, a piano and the skeleton of a song. It's quite a trip, the meanderings and musings of jazz musicians as they wing their way through a song.
I popped into a session not too long ago and was very impressed with the trio as a whole and especially with David's drumming. This was definitely a different angle of Tallahassee and I was glad to have the chance to interview David this past Sunday, to get a further perspective on such a talented musician.
Turns out, he's been drumming for quite a while, since fourth grade. Now, he wouldn't reveal his age, but I'm guessing he's at least my age and that would mean he's been drumming for 15 years, give or take a few. Impressive.
It all started (as did with many us before the government decided music was not important for the development of logical adults) with elementary school band. David said, "I really wanted to play stand-up bass." And yet he chose drums ... why? As fate would have it, around the time for his instrument decision, he saw an episode of The Muppet Show in which Animal and Buddy Rich had sort of drum duel. That did it. It was drums for Mr. Glover.
His early influences were pretty much from the radio in the early eighties. David specifically named Jon Bonham and Phil Collins as well as some local drummers but all in all, there's was no one main drum idol for him.
He got his degree in jazz at the University of Florida and has acquired quite a varied range of drumming experience, from playing with local groups to playing with a Disney jazz and pop orchestra. The Disney gigs earned him the honor of playing with Shirley Jones, Sandy Duncan and even Jack Jones (the singer of Love Boat fame).
The other musicians in the trio are Mark Miller on the stand-up bass and either Jared Shapiro or Matt Dowd on piano. David explains, "The main reason we do this jam session is both for the experience for the musicians and to keep people thinking about jazz." And the true form of jazz, the improvisational form, is definitely alive and kicking while they're playing. You're definitely guaranteed a different experience every time.
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In spite of adverse conditions, mainly the threatening terrain of downtown Atlanta with all its traffic and evil one-way streets, I managed to catch the Tricky show in Atlanta on Friday, July 31st[1998]. Tricky played at The Tabernacle and was accompanied by a live band (bass player, drummer, guitarist, a keyboardist, the whole works) and two female singers.
As far as a "show" goes, there wasn't much to see, which is a given for a Tricky show. The emphasis for Tricky is always on the music. Still, the ambiance of the show was intimate and somewhat pensive and all achieved with light gels, a smattering of black light, a few pieces of white fabric artistically fixed to the backdrop and some primitive, shamanistic drawings on a projector. Low key, yes, but very effective ... very in sync with the music's feel.
The performance was great. The energy of the music was strong. Tricky's music live took on a harder edge. While listening to the music, I could practically see the future of music opening up before me. Truly, Tricky always stays at least a league ahead of the mainstream.
He played songs from all his previous albums (yes, even "Christian Sands"), and I'm assuming the songs I didn't know were from his new album, Angels with Dirty Faces (I'm a slug ... I don't have the CD yet). It was thrilling to hear the new songs live and absolutely delicious to hear the older songs re-interpreted through his new musical angle.
I was impressed to see how much Tricky transforms his music for a live performance. He and his musicians even threw a couple of free-form "jams" into the set.
The Tabernacle was the perfect venue for his music. The building is beautiful and extremely eclectic with a touch of reverence suitable for Tricky's sound (and for Bauhaus when they play there on Sept. 14).
I attended the opening of "Dimension of Native America: the Contact Zone" Friday night, and unfortunately I got see very little of the art. Part of that was because it was too darn crowded.
It's not that I have a problem with crowds at art exhibits. Crowds are to be expected, especially at openings, but unfortunately, I only got to see a fourth of the exhibit.
The fact that the FSU Museum of Fine Arts doesn't have a very open layout didn't help; it's not, by nature or design, very easy to maneuver through.
Take for instance, James Luna was performing at the opening. He is a well-known performance artist noted for his insightful and unflinching look at life on a reservation. I would like to tell you how his performance was, but I can't ... I couldn't see what he was doing.
The museum designated a flat surface in a corner of the upper floor for his performance. As a result, the only people who could see his performance were the people up front and the really, really tall people (who were mainly the people up front). I can tell you that I think Luna was sweeping.
However, the "viewers" were mainly to blame. The energy of the event was more about socializing than about allowing others to view the art. Many were the people who stood in front of a piece, with their back turned AWAY from the work, just talking.
To make the night complete, the fire alarm went off -- in the middle of Luna's performance. Everyone was herded outside. I didn't hang around to find out what happened -- I had enough of the crowd for one night.
Of the artwork that I did see, I have mixed feelings. I saw several beaded artifacts, some quite old, and they were beautiful; the craftsmanship was stunning.
There were several pottery pieces, some authentic artifacts and some new works done in the style of artifacts. The new works left me flat; they were blatant and uninspired. On the other hand, the artifacts were gorgeous.
I was very impressed with the samplers by Elaine Reichel which were lovely works of art as well as sly political statements. As a counterpoint, there were those works that weren't so artfully done. Those quaint political pieces that were heavy-handed to the point of being ridiculous. A prime example being the guy who crawled around on his knees in sweat pants flagellating himself.
But Sarah Bates' "Honoring" was by far the most awe-inspiring work that I saw at the exhibit and probably one the best pieces I've ever seen. Bates collects natural objects, and for each "Honoring," she arranges them on the floor to express both her view of today's world and her Cherokee heritage with its world view along with her belief that all things of this earth of interconnected. This work was devastating in its beauty. It felt sacred.
So if you would like to see a huge selection of Native American art and artifacts and a most exquisite work art, "Honorings," check out this exhibitu might want to bring your cattle prod, and please stay away from the fire alarm.
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Sometimes I think there's nothing fun to do in this town. Sometimes I bemoan my outcast state and long for Atlanta, a town resplendent with strip joints for all persuasions, liquor that flows like sweat in an August Tallahassee, and plenty of room for scenes to please everyone from the ravers to the gothers to rockers and swingers in between. And then, damned if something fun doesn't come to town ... in this case a little piece of Atlanta right in the Cow Haus. The Lost Continentals, a swing-slash-rockabilly band, played the beloved House of Cows on Saturday, April 18th[1998]. Let me tell ya, I don't think there was a single person there that didn't have fun. There was seven of us girls up front, just bopping and hopping to the beat, and the two guys that did actually know how to dance (or swing or jitterbug or shag -- pick your term) racked up points of coolness all the way around. The Lost Continentals were tremendous. The lead chick's voice was as dark and as smooth as chocolate milk (or great whiskey, depending on your drinking tastes). The stand-up bass and drums pushed that swing rhythm into our feet with a beat you just can't defeat and the guitar dripped and jangled with essence of rockabilly. That swing groove just swept everyone along. People were talking, laughing, tapping, snapping and swinging along to the songs. No pretentions, no boredom, just out-and-out fun.
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Chris Whitley played in Atlanta at the Tabernacle on Thursday[1998]. Actually, he opened for Alanis Morissette, but we'll overlook that nasty bit of reality. After standing in line for an hour to get in and after having to endure an hour's worth of Alanis fans (who kept saying, "Chris Who?"), Chris came on to perform at eight.
It was not a fancy show -- he was the opening act. It was just him in a white "wife-beater," his various guitars, a cigarette and his beer. That's all that was needed.
I was in heaven. Not only was I near the stage (showing up at 6 should have gotten me at least that much), not only was he hotter than I remembered, but his performance was just mindblowing. It was so full sounding even though it was just him singing and playing guitar.
He played for roughly an hour. He played several songs off his first album, Living with the Law:"Long Way Around," "Phone Call from Leavenworth," "Big Sky Country," and "Bordertown." He played "Weightless," "Power Down," Automatic," and "Immortal Blues" from his third album, Terra Incognita. Naturally, there were some songs off the new album, Dirt Floor; I think they were "Scrapyard Lullaby" and "Dirt Floor." Oddly enough, I don't remember anything off the second album. But then again, I was rather mesmerized by him so several songs may have slid out of my memory.
His performance held me transfixed; it was all incredibly sexy. Even the facts that he seemed both shy and utterly engrossed in his performance was awfully hot. His concentration was very refreshing.
My moment of pride for Chris came when this girl, about 18 or so, who had asked me who he was, turned to me after his first song and said, "He's really good." I'm just hoping there were a few converts to the True and Right Path of Art that night.
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Three words for you, my dearies ... "OH MY GOTH."[insert swirly hand movement here]. I saw Bauhaus perform Monday, Sept. 14 [1998] at the Tabernacle in Atlanta for their Resurrection Tour. It was positively beguiling. I kept having to pinch myself because I couldn't believe I was actually watching the Goth band to end all Goth bands, with all the original members.
The energy level of the show was high, nearly quantum. Bauhaus gave us four encores, including "Ziggy Stardust," "Spirit," "Bela Lugosi's Dead," and "Telegram Sam." Peter was especially active, jumping around the stage. At one point, he sang cross-legged on top of a speaker. At another point, he changed onstage (though hidden behind a screen). After seeing the original Peter, I can see where our "local enigma" a la Cruxshadows gets all his stage performance but I guess mimicry is the highest form of flattery.
The set was, naturally, spectacular. For the first song, the band played with a monitor in the middle of the stage showing a close-up of Peter Murphy singing off-stage. He was all Gothic angles and shadows -- it was beautiful. The backdrop was full of various concave and convex pyramids that occasionally achieved a stunning of illusion of a sarcophagus. There was also a point in the show where dangling light bulbs speckled the stage; they were Peter's props of light. The lighting was computer driven which added a crisp synchronicity to the show.
They all looked great, especially for having just risen from their various coffins. Daniel Ashe donned a very Bram Stoker's Dracula hat for "Bela Lugosi." Peter just looked fabulous. He started the show in a three piece suit thing that had obvious Indian influences. The only performer I've seen that dressed better is The Artist but we can't hold that against Peter. Of course, The Artist didn't have a wardrobe change on stage, so in that aspect, Peter has one up on him.
There was plenty of merchandise to be bought for such a momentous occasion as Bauhaus's resurrection, especially t-shirts. My fave was the tight, baby-tee ... not your every day Goth attire. It was my choice purchase because tight and Bauhaus should really go hand in hand.
The crowd was damn near ecstatic the whole time, an odd thing for moody Gothers. When I looked out over the crowd, I saw nothing but a sea of black clothing and tons of dark eye make-up. It made my heart proud to see all these people keeping up with the tradition Bauhaus started nearly 20 years ago.
Six dollars ... what's there to do in Atlanta for $6? Plenty of clubs, but that would be nothing to write about. However, going to see an awesome concert for a mere $6 is.
Tuesday, November 10 [1999], I saw Esthero at the Cotton Club for only $6 (Cotton Club is really good about offering cheap concerts). Fine, now you're asking, who the hell is Esthero?
It's a she. Esthero had an incredible voice, simultaneously sweet and sexy. And powerful. She sounded like an angel, a sassy angel. On stage, she was a red-headed spitfire, dancing around at points, throwing attitude everywhere at others. In those pure moments of musical grace, she stood like an icon, eyes closed, transmutating the music into god for all our eager ears. With her touring group, the sound was groovy and soulful, with splashes of break beat rhythms and intense rap sessions. Compiled of two female vocalists (one of course being Esthero), a drummer, a bassist, a guitarist, a keyboardist and a sampler/rapper, the sound was the best of everything that is live and everything that is sampled. They were all consummate musicians, not a sour note or missed beat all night; their combined chemistry was great.
I had heard the album, Breath in Another, once or twice before; it's really good. Something that crossed over groove, ambiance and "techno." Despite the high quality of the album, I was not prepared for the concert's intensity. The performance blew me away, as it did most of the crowd. Everyone danced around the whole time -- they lost it when Esthero kicked in this jungle-rific beat in the middle of a sensuous song about a girl who goes crazy 'cause she and her boyfriend kill another girl (and the girlfriend gets off on it). I highly recommend getting the album and if possible checking her out live. Through her, groove has hit another level.
Friday night, November 13th, at the Cotton Club, I saw Meat Beat Manifesto, Josh Wink and Q-burns Abstract Message. Before I launch into my review, let me tell you that I was coming into this as a complete innocent ... well, you know, what I mean. I had no idea who the hell Q-burns was and while I had heard of Meat Beat Manifesto and Josh Wink, I hadn't heard enough of either of their works to have an opinion. I probably knew more about Josh Wink than anyone else since a friend of mine once described him as "the only white guy who looked good with dreads." However, I'm always game for something new and the ticket was free .... So with that disclaimer in mind, we'll begin the stub.
Q-burns Abstract Message was this little white boy with a bad hair cut doing his one-man show thing. The music was pretty good but he couldn't rap/sing/whatever-he-was-trying-to-do worth a damn (we were thinking he was trying to pull a Beck).
Then came Josh Wink. Beau (my musical companion) informed me that this set was a bit unusual for him. Mr. Wink decided to have a "message" to his hour set ("a soundscape for the mind), and in my opinion there was too much musical foreplay before he got to the meat of the set. Of course, I am a "jump right to it" girl. Once he started kicking the music, Mr. Wink was hot. He had a little movie playing in the background. He had filmed driving around downtown Atlanta and was playing with some cats(actual felines) in a plush apartment in the Highlands, sickeningly enough, very close to my own modest living space. The video ended with him starting his show at The Cotton Club. Mr. Wink will be playing Gainesville in the near future, so he'll be close for y'all to check out.
Finally, Meat Beat Manifesto came on. We had a good spot ... pretty close to the stage but not in the crush of things. Not that I ended up watching the stage for much of the show. I mean, yes, there were two screens with rather interesting visuals (at the beginning, they showed clips from Faster Pussycat, Kill, Kill, much to my delight) and there was a dude dancing around on stage, so it wasn't for lack of a stage performance. No, I neglected the stage because the music was too good not to dance to.
To me, it was somewhat on the hard side of "techno." It felt very masculine and experimental. Apparently, most of the little raver boys around me had come there to see Josh Wink but ended up being completely blown away by Manifesto.
The crowd was completely into the music. Everybody was bobbing up and down to the beat. The raver boys around me left me a nice chunk of dance floor. It seemed more like a rave than a concert. I guess that was the point.
Despite my original ignorance, I had a blast. Meat Beat Manifesto was extremely impressive and gave me a really good dance workout. They're definitely a band worth seeing -- just bring some good dance shoes and bring plenty of money for water.