Limited Perspective

This blog is about theater but sometimes history presents us with moments that bear comment for their inherent drama.  Imagine the possible stories you could write on this moment!  Digging up Franco By now, you get mocked for bringing up the Faulkner quote about the past. It has become one of those things people say that end the discussion rather than open it up, like, "It is what it is." But if it's overused, it's because it's shown to be true over and over again. It was a running joke on Saturday Night Live's Weekend Update in the 70s that, "Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead." At the time, news of the dictator's failing health dragged o n. It was on the evening news for what seemed like a long time. The joke was that even after Franco finally died, the networks still wanted to milk the story. They couldn't let it go. Now, the people of Spain are still living out the Franco story. His coffin has been moved from what was

Assassins was good. I think I got the meaning of the show better than the version I saw at the 5th/ACT in 2016. Maybe it was because I read the director's notes beforehand, which put a spotlight on the theme. Director Alicia Mendez wrote about the motives of the assassins and said, "The most shocking aspect of this musical is the common threads are wants and needs that everyone can identify with ..." That translated perfectly onto stage. The Sam Byck monologue had me saying, yes, I agree -- wait, no, you're crazy! The production elements pushed the emotion also. The number near the end, November 22, 1963 where the assassins all goad Lee Harvey Oswald, and then he follows though was devastating, especially because they had the 1963 footage projected onto a screen behind. After the final number, the cast just walks off the set. No curtain call. Perfect to just leave you thinking.  Photo by me of the set before the show.

Using aerialists to portray two of the characters was the most flashy element of Blood Water Paint .  I can’t imagine any other way to perform their monologues that would be as effective.  The aerialist actors would glide up and down their silks, displaying strength, risk, physicality, vulnerability, and heroism – sometimes alternately, sometimes several of these at once. The aerialists are Meredith Armstrong and Leah Jarvik, who play the Biblical figures Judith and Susanna who counsel and inspire with 17 th century painter Artemisia Gentileschi, played by Bianca Raso.  These interactions take place outside the central timeline of the play and inside Artemisia’s creative soul. In return for their favors, Artemisia paints the two women on canvas, portraying them as only another woman could.  It’s storytelling inside of storytelling.  In one memorably effective sequence, Susanna is speaking about having all eyes, particularly male eyes, on her, as she ascends the silk,