A Fabulous Debut at Davies Symphony Hall for Natalie Dessay

March 18, 2014, 8:59 am

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Natalie Dessay's debut recital at San Francisco's Davies Symphony Hall this past Saturday night was delightful, delirious and de-lovely. Since early last June when she told me of her decision to retire from the operatic stage in order to pursue her ambitions as an actress, I and so many of Natalie's fans despaired of ever seeing her perform any classical repertoire again. But since the beginning of March, she has been on a recital tour with the brilliant pianist Philippe Cassard in a program that has so far been presented in Montreal, Quebec, Boston and last week at Carnegie Hall. The tour continues in April with performances in Tokyo and Seoul, then in May, she and Cassard return to France to perform in Évian-les-bains, Paris, and Biot. Her recital program is a discerning blend of lieder from Clara Schumann, Brahms and Richard Strauss along with mélodies of Debussy, Duparc, Fauré and Poulenc. We think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Natalie made a dazzling entrance in a sparkling grey and silver ball gown -- bare shouldered, sleeveless -- her daily commitment to yoga revealing strength and appealing definition. For those who remember and yearn for more such unplugged classical recitals with solo singer and pianist -- the vision was bewitching and splendid. Her program began with a group of four songs by Clara Schumann. The text of the first selection, "Liebst du um Schönheit" ("If You Love for Beauty"), pleads to a would-be lover that if the passion is about beauty, youth or treasure, then, "don't love me." But if that eagerness is for the sake of love, then, yes -- "I will love you forever."

The link between artist and audience was charged with mutual appreciation. Suddenly, the (assumed/prescribed) concert protocol to withhold any clapping until she had completed the Schumann set seemed rather difficult. But by the final stanza of the second song, "Geheimes Flüstern" ("Soft, Secret Whispers"), it was time to let go of the etiquette and let fly the applause. Natalie took advantage of the situation by indulging in a coughing break and invited everyone to join in a collective hack. It was a moment of classic comic relief. The city's latest patterns of crazy weather have kicked the allergy season into high, sparing no one -- not even its world renowned guest artists. Calm returned, and Natalie was back in voice.

2014-03-17-NATALIEDESSAY.PhotoSimonFowler.jpg

NATALIE DESSAY. Photo, Simon Fowler

Natalie Dessay's musicianship is sublime. It is her commitment to the text -- and thus, to the heart and soul of the character she communicates -- that stimulates and mobilizes her vocal delivery. As seen in the 2013 PBS broadcast of her performance at the Met as Cleopatra in Handel's Giulio Cesare and the recent DVD of La Traviata produced at Aix-en-Provence, Natalie's engagement with the composer and librettist is absolute. Her recent recording with composer/pianist Michel Legrand, "Entre Elle Et Lui" and their current concert schedule, reflects the luxuries of her 2012 CD, Clair de Lune -- a celebration of Debussy's 150th birthday.

Natalie's impeccable artistry shone throughout the evening, particularly in her outstanding renditions of Duparc's "L'Invitation au Voyage" and "Extase." But with her rapturous interpretations of Strauss' "Ich schwebe" ("I Float") and "Wasserrose" ("Water Lily"), the entire hall resounded her glistening upper register and idyllic, full-spirited delivery.

The incredible sensitivity and enduring support imparted by Philippe Cassard is a magical dream come true for any singer. Attentive to Natalie's every mood and inclination, colorings and shadows -- Cassard's dynamic accompaniment was at all times insightful and packed with love. As a team, their dual efforts blossomed in Poulenc's "Violon" and Debussy's "Apparition" -- a profound blending of poetry and music that was exceedingly gorgeous, transcendent and unforgettable.

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Ed and Nancy Keinholz With Gajin Fujita at LA Louver (PHOTOS)

March 18, 2014, 9:38 am

≫ Next: The Expressive Edge of Paper

≪ Previous: A Fabulous Debut at Davies Symphony Hall for Natalie Dessay

LA Louver held an opening reception on Thursday, March 13, 2014 with an exhibition of works by Ed and Nancy Keinholz called Berlin/Hope. The art featured were pieces that were collaborated by the two. There was also a concurrent reception for artist Gajin Fujita.

As part of my ongoing survey of opening exhibitions, here a few highlights from that night as part of my N(art)rative photo series. Here is EMS N(art)rative Two.

Works by Keinholz. Photo by EMS

Work by Keinholz. Photo by EMS

Gajin Fujita. Photo by EMS.

Work by Gajin Fujita. Photo by EMS.

Gajin Fujita. Photo by EMS.

Nancy Keinholz and Gajin Fujita. Photo by EMS.

Nancy Keinholz. Photo by EMS

Gajin Fujita. Photo by EMS.

Ed Moses and Peter Goulds.

Rebecca Campbell and her daughter. Photo by EMS

Nancy Keinholz (2nd from left). Photo by EMS

Nancy Keinholz and Peter Goulds. Photo by EMS

Please follow my website at thuvanarts.com
And my art films at thuvanarts.com/take1

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The Expressive Edge of Paper

March 18, 2014, 11:14 am

≫ Next: Turkey Lurkey Time

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With the New York weather finally thawing, gallery visits are back on the agenda big time. When I received an invitation to the Anita Shapolsky exhibit, The Expressive Edge of Paper, it struck a chord. Of the 27 artists included in the show, I had some personal connection with a number of them. I printed at Bob Blackburn's workshop; I studied with Karl Appel's colleague, Jan Cox; I have been influenced by and enamored of Ann Ryan's collages; I have interviewed Kendall Shaw. The Shapolsky Gallery has been on my radar since the 1990s, specifically when I profiled "Women Artists of the Fifties." At that time the gallery -- which began its run in 1982 -- was still in Soho. It packed up and left the area in 1997, as high-end boutiques took over the majority of the neighborhood's real estate. The gallery now resides in a brownstone in the East Sixties.

On the ground floor space, immediately upon entering, is a vibrant and fluid watercolor. I was surprised to learn that the painter was William Saroyan, widely known as an author and playwright. The assistant showed me the book that was published in conjunction with the gallery's 2007 show entitled, The Writer's Brush.

#8 January 18William Saroyan

Adjacent to Saroyan's work is Ramapo No. 2 by Michael Dominick. It announces the curatorial premise: Pushing the boundaries of what is considered a work utilizing paper. Employing molten iron like paint, Dominick uses the gestural marks that are part of the Abstract Expressionist vocabulary. He fuses archival drawing paper to a plaster backing board. The markings are accompanied by a gold leaf rectangle that is both separate from and interactive with the rest of the imagery.

Ramapo No. 2
Michael Dominick

Ilya Bolotowsky is represented by two lithographs that reflect his iconic geometric style. From the same time period (1970s), juxtaposed on a nearby wall, is Sketch of New Iberia by Kendall Shaw. It stands as an individual work while evidencing a direct correlation to his current large-scale series of panels, Cajun Minimalist.

Sketch of New Iberia
Kendall Shaw

"Lima 89 (Homage to Franz Klein)," a photograph by Aaron Siskind, is a total departure from the social activist documentary photos he took when he was affiliated with the New York Photo League, such as the "Harlem Document." Through Siskind's relationships with abstract expressionist painters, he became a part of their movement. He built a body of work devoted to his interest in the "flat plane," becoming a pioneer and groundbreaker for future generations of photographers.

Lima 89 (Homage to Franz Klein)
Aaron Siskind

Joel Le Bow, also influenced by Franz Kline as both a teacher and a friend, offers a watercolor on paper from 2006. Painting in New York during the 50s and 60s, he has termed his current work "abstract surrealism."

Crackle
Joel Le Bow

On the second floor landing, visitors are greeted by Grace Hartigan's bold silkscreen/lithograph, Untitled. Using energetic strokes in tandem with a flat background of vibrant red, an unapologetically strong female figure challenges the observer.

Untitled
Grace Hartigan

Proficient in various mediums including painting, prints, tapestries and murals, Amaranth Ehrenhalt, has three works in the exhibit. Fringe Benefit #3 is a tiered image in watercolor. The middle section is comprised of opaque units of deeply saturated color. The top and bottom bands depict Protozoa-like forms against the backgrounds of a muted palette. It pulls in elements of color from the center of the painting as free-floating accents.

Fringe Benefit #3
Amaranth Ehrenhalt

Karl Appel's lithograph, "Series of 10: Moving in Blue," employs the language of the post-war European CoBrA group, with which he was affiliated. The art movement, rejecting Surrealism, sought a vocabulary that would be expressive, spontaneous and anti-academic. Beyond his angular brushstrokes and use of vivid color, his imagery references folk art and "primitive" art. In this work, an animal form is discernible.

Series of 10: Moving in Blue
Karl Appel

"The Moon is a Flower," a lithograph by Ann Ryan, was executed during the time she worked at the print workshop of Stanley William Hayter -- before she began making collages. It should be noted that a full range of printmaking techniques are included in the show -- aquatint, sugar lift and embossed surfaces among them.

A pair of images by Lawrence Calcagno demonstrate the connection between two pieces twenty-six years apart. Untitled, is a smaller watercolor on paper from 1956. It hangs next to the larger acrylic on paper, "Taos." The impastoed acrylic paint in "Taos" (1982) could read as oil. The paper is mounted on a linen background and it is framed without glass--giving it the feeling of a work on canvas. The floating circular symbol at the top of both pictures and the crisscross markings on the horizontal ribbons of hue reveal an intrinsic connection.

"Leaf Pool," a paper construction by Anthony Caro, is from a period that spanned 1981 to 2002 when he utilized paper. Widely known for his steel sculptures, "Leaf Pool" affords the opportunity to access his work in a different scale and format, while gaining awareness to his thought process.

Leaf Pool
Anthony Caro

Recently, the New York Times featured an article about the convergence of big dollars and art fairs. It questioned the reality of a collector -- of modest means -- finding first-rate works. The "budget" of their "fictional wallet" was $5,000. Ironically, without all the hubbub and high pressure, that's exactly what I found at "The Expressive Edge of Paper." There were three pieces under $1,000; close to half the works were priced under $4,000.

When you think of the average monthly rent for a Manhattan one-bedroom, art wins out hands down.

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Photos: Courtesy of Anita Shapolsky Gallery

The Expressive Edge of Paper
Exhibiting Artists: Mario Bencomo, Robert Blackburn, Seymour Boardman, Ilya Bolotowsky, Ernest Briggs, Lawrence Calcagno, Pérez Celis, Nassos Daphnis, Beauford Delaney, Herman Cherry, Amaranth Ehrenhalt, Claire Falkenstein, Agustín Fernández, Grace Hartigan, John Hultberg, Elaine Kurtz, Joel Le Bow, William Manning, Henri Michaux, Ann Ryan, William Saroyan, Kendall Shaw, Aaron Siskind, Antoni Tàpies, and Petra Valentová

Anita Shapolsky Gallery
152 East 65th Street (Street Level)
New York, NY 10065
212-452-1094
Through April 26, 2014

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Turkey Lurkey Time

March 18, 2014, 11:49 am

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What does one of the world's greatest male ballet dancers have in common with a middle-aged Latina lesbian? They both love to talk turkey (and trust me, it's not a question of who prefers white meat over dark meat).

One may be referring to the time he shot a big, stupid tom turkey at close range in Florida while the other fondly reminisces about how she made a butch dyke nicknamed "Turkey" cry.

One may be discussing turkey calls with a bunch of guys who like to go hunting while the other describes how she learned that Turkey survived her rejection and went on to become a fabulously wealthy woman.

Whether you grew up listening to Turkey in the Straw or yearn to spend more time with Turkey in the raw, both tales offered Bay area audiences plenty of gobble-de-gook. Rest assured, neither production should be scorned as a box office turkey.

However, as long as we're talking turkey, it should be noted that there is some dispute over the birth of the Turkey Trot. According to Wikipedia, some claim that the popular dance debuted around 1909 at the Ray Jones Café in Chicago. Others insist that the Turkey Trot was born in 1912 along the Barbary Coast in San Francisco.

The ballroom dancing team of Vernon and Irene Castle helped make the Turkey Trot famous when they performed it on Broadway in 1913's The Sunshine Girl. Can you identify which dancers are performing the Turkey Trot in the following clip?

* * * * * * * * * *

Marga Gomez is back at The Marsh with a new one-woman show (her 10th). Unlike previous monologues which were primarily autobiographical, Lovebirds is a beautifully written piece of fiction whose protagonist is a photographer named Polaroid Phillie.

Marga Gomez as Polaroid Phillie in Lovebirds
(Photo by: Patti Meyer)

Having snapped Polaroids of young lovers for decades (including at a popular lesbian bar named Bonnie & Clyde), Phillie is quick to stress the unique value of Polaroids over digital pictures or selfies (which can go viral in the worst way imaginable). Directed by David Schweizer, Lovebirds chronicles Polaroid Phillie's recollections of memorable characters from her personal and professional past. These include:

Barbara Ramirez, a budding young lesbian who decides to cut her hair short, check out her luck in a bar for gay women, and avoid any kind of heteronormative interactions with other lesbians. After joining a coven and realizing that too many lesbians are named Barbara, she changes her first name to Dahlia (only to discover that Dahlia has become the hot new name for little girls).

Orestes Ramirez, Barbara/Dahlia's father who may be the maitre d' of a nightclub, but whose taste in women is often questionable.

Gladys, an aspiring singer with little to no talent who lacks any sense of pitch but has managed to capture the heart of Orestes.

Professor Richard Richards, Gladys's pompous husband who suffers from such severe sleep deprivation that he can barely stay awake while lecturing. The irony is that Professor Richards has built his career on the theory that people only need 45 minutes of sleep per day.

Aurora, Barbara's women's studies professor at NYU, who is also active in a local coven.

Poster art for Lovebirds

Working on Vola Ruben's simple set (built from storage boxes of all sizes), Gomez seduces her audience with a newfound combination of wit and warmth. Although, in past years, many of her shows have had a harder comedic edge, Lovebirds is filled with nostalgia, romance, and the kind of wistfulness that often accompanies middle age. It's also a bit unnerving to hear someone lovingly refer to "roids" and realize that they are not talking about athletes getting juiced on anabolic steroids.

Marga Gomez as Polaroid Phillie in Lovebirds
(Photo by: Patti Meyer)

The use of Polaroids as nostalgic props offers Gomez convenient jumping-off points for introducing new characters during the course of her monologue. Her newest show never outstays its welcome and leaves the audience feeling warm and cozy inside.

* * * * * * * * * *

I recently had an opportunity to read Howard Sherman's excellent piece titled "Who Thinks It's OK To 'Improve' Playwrights' Work?" and heartily recommend it to any and all who itch to update a piece of literature which has not yet entered the public domain. In his piece, Sherman goes to great lengths to explain the difference between exercising one's artistic ideas and violating copyright law.

As artists find inspiration in works from the past, audiences are exposed to more and more "updated" productions of favorite operas. I've seen Mozart's Cosi Fan Tutte set in Hawaii during the early 20th century and Gilbert & Sullivan's The Mikado set inside a display of Japanaiserie in Harrods department store. Surfing through YouTube's riches can offer glimpses of the Metropolitan Opera's new take on Verdi's Rigoletto (set in Las Vegas during the heyday of the Rat Pack) as well as the Bavarian State Opera's radical modern-dress approach to La Forza del Destino.

These productions don't attempt to mess with the composer's musical score. However, with more and more techniques now available to create mash-ups that become a brand new piece of art, the term sui generis has never been more applicable to certain productions.

The Berkeley Repertory Theatre recently presented Big Dance Theater's production of Man in a Case, a curious work commissioned by the Hartford Stage Company as a collaboration between Arktype and Baryshnikov Productions. Inspired by two of Anton Chekhov's short stories from 1898's The Little Trilogy (Man in a Case and About Love), this performance piece -- which has been adapted and directed by Paul Lazar and Annie-B Parson -- is a fascinating experience in mixed media which combines music, video, theatre, and dance with Russian literature.

Mikhail Baryshnikov and Tymberly Canale in a moment
from Man in a Case (Photo by: T. Charles Erickson)

With video design by Jeff Larson and lighting by the great Jennifer Tipton, the cast is led by Mikhail Baryshnikov, Tymberly Canale, Chris Giarmo, Paul Lazar, and Aaron Mattocks. Because today's technology allows for astonishing multidisciplinary artistic visions, the Chekhov stories take on new life in ways that were previously unimaginable. As Lazar explains:

"If you were just to take this story and give it to a playwright and ask them to theatrically adapt it, with stage directions, dialogue, etc., that's one way or style of telling it. I think the way we use video and sound (some of the video even has text scrolling through it) in a certain sense makes it more evocative of the experience of reading a story. Not in the sense that we speak the text verbatim -- which we also do -- but that in seeing a play you take some of the language, and the imagery related to the language (sometimes obliquely) to replicate the reading experience. It gives you the experience of imagistic resonance rather than literal representation."

In the following interview, Baryshnikov discusses his early exposures to Chekhov's writing and the genesis of the Man in a Case project.

One of the challenges of experiencing a piece like Man in a Case is that some parts of it defy description, while other parts demand that the audience sit back and let the experience wash over them. For those who primarily think of Baryshnikov from his years as one of the ballet world's greatest stars, it's intriguing to see what he brings to the stage in a speaking role. Tymberly Canale provides a strong foil as his love interest in About Love.

Tymberly Canale and Mikhail Baryshnikov in a scene
from Man in a Case (Photo by: T. Charles Erickson)

Nobody emerges happy in many of Chekhov's works. As a result, whether one sees Baryshnikov as a lonely and paranoid professor of Greek classics who lives in the kind of isolation that makes one think of The Twilight Zone -- or as a sad, unfulfilled lover trying to find a connection to the woman of his dreams -- Man in a Case is difficult to categorize.

Tymberly Canale and Mikhail Baryshnikov in a scene
from Man in a Case (Photo by: T. Charles Erickson)

On one hand, Man in a Case is an evening that pulses with paranoia and expressions of a pained platonic love. On the other hand, the depression gripping some of Chekhov's characters is frequently punctured by dance, song, intriguing video, and a remarkable sense of lyricism. As well as those turkey calls.

To read more of George Heymont go to My Cultural Landscape

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My Conversation With Barry Manilow and Bruce Sussman: Collaborative 'Harmony'

March 18, 2014, 12:07 pm

≫ Next: Where Did Our Musical Legacy Go?

≪ Previous: Turkey Lurkey Time

Tonight on PBS, I have a conversation with longtime musical collaborators Barry Manilow and Bruce Sussman. The Grammy-winning songwriters have been partners for more than 40 years, with projects that include the song and the musical "Copacabana," and the song "Let Freedom Ring," for the televised bicentennial celebration of the U.S. Constitution. Their latest project is the musical Harmony, based on a real-life German singing group that battled to stay together (and live) as the Nazis ascended to power in 1930s Germany.

In the clip below, Sussman discusses the quest for harmony as represented in their new musical.

For more of our conversation, be sure to tune in to Tavis Smiley tonight on PBS. Check out our website for your local TV listings: http://www.pbs.org/tavis.

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Where Did Our Musical Legacy Go?

March 18, 2014, 12:17 pm

≫ Next: Interview and Review: Son Keeps His Father's Legacy in Motion, While "Others" Try to Stop the Train

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Several months ago, I wrote on this site about the lack of younger American talent on the podiums of major orchestras in the United States. Since there are still a couple of ensembles that have not yet announced their 14-15 season plans, the follow-up article is still in limbo.

But while I was looking at not only the artists, but the programing as well, an astonishing statistic jumped out at me. With the exception of the five usual suspects, almost every orchestra I delved into was completely devoid of most composers who laid the foundations for symphonic music in our country.

First, a bit of background. I perused the season announcements of the 15 orchestras with the largest budgets, only taking into account subscription concerts. Then I divided the American composers into two groups, those living and those deceased. The good news is that those still among us are fairly well represented these days. Out of the orchestras surveyed, five of them were scheduled to perform more than five works by composers active today. In some cases, when a composer has a relationship with a specific orchestra, there are several works by that person within the season. There remains one orchestra that is not playing even one work by any American on its subscription season.

Then came the bad news. Yes, we see a bit of Ives, Gershwin, Copland and Bernstein, and several orchestras are doing the Barber Violin Concerto. But after that, you have to look very hard to find anyone else represented from our rich classical music heritage. Four of the orchestras are not even performing one work from this canon.

America was one of the last countries to embrace the literal symphonic tradition in the 20th century. Composers such as William Schuman, Walter Piston, Roy Harris, Peter Mennin, Roger Sessions, Vincent Persichetti and so many others made vital contributions to this country's culture. Virtually every orchestra and conductor, regardless of the nationality of the music director, performed their music.

How is it possible to ignore musical luminaries such as David Diamond, Lukas Foss, Howard Hanson, Virgil Thompson or the dozens of others who meant so much to this country's landscape? Aside from the occasional festival, which might try to resurrect some of these composers for one-off performances, it is doubtful that even music students today know their names.

One of the questions I am often asked by aspiring maestri is, "How can I attract attention to my conducting?" My answer is quite simple:

"Find a repertoire that is unique to you while you are studying the classics."

It would not be fair of me to speak on behalf of other conductors, but when I was starting out, I made a conscious decision to lead works by American composers, both living and deceased. There were not many others out there doing this repertoire at the time, and it provided me with ample opportunity to bring attention to both the music and myself. To this day, I and a very few of my peers continue to present some of these scores to orchestras and the public. Certainly it is fine to have fresh takes on Beethoven, Strauss, Bartok and all the others who are performed regularly. But it takes a great deal more work, research and study to find those pieces that can help put a conductor on the musical map.

Whether we look at the pre-Ivesian composers, the eccentrics, the neo-romantics and impressionists, or the edgy and innovative composers, America has had a lot to say in the world of classical music. It is an embarrassment and a shame that we are in danger of losing these traditions. Performances can no longer be left to just those of us who grew up with this music. We will not be here that much longer. New talent has an obligation to seek out what made this country a culturally strong nation.

One of the paths to the future involves traveling on older roads. And sometimes there are great discoveries to be made.

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Interview and Review: Son Keeps His Father's Legacy in Motion, While "Others" Try to Stop the Train

March 18, 2014, 12:41 pm

≫ Next: Lobbying for the Arts

≪ Previous: Where Did Our Musical Legacy Go?

Recently the Brooklyn Museum launched an important new exhibit entitled, "Witness: Art and Civil Rights in the Sixties." They had been in dialogue with Alaina Simone, the director of the Merton Simpson Gallery, to obtain a painting by the late painter, collector, gallery owner and tribal art expert. He had been a leading member of the "Spiral Artist Collective" with impressive friends, including Romare Bearden, Charles Alston, Norman Lewis, and Hale Woodruff, his former professor and mentor from NYU. It was one of many pivotal organized movements in the art world by African American artists during the civil rights revolution.

Proud son, Merton Simpson Jr., an Albany legislator along with his impressive gallery director Alaina Simone provided them with Simpson Sr.'s 1965 version of an American "Guernica," called "U.S.A.," a weighty abstract expressionist black-and-white painting historically capturing the mood of the times.

The Merton Simpson Gallery has been the subject of much controversy with all sorts of characters trying to capitalize on the name, the collection, and whatever money they can drain out of the gallery. Some pretty interesting well-heeled and suspicious people who have cloaked themselves ostensibly in righteousness to help the gallery have in fact not only been hindrances, but have nearly caused the gallery to close because of their greed. Many things that have been reported are not true; manufactured for the convenience of others, including there being no money for the late Merton Simpson's burial.

Yet, Simpson Jr. remains undaunted in his desire to keep his father's legacy thriving. His greatest wish is to see it continue and with the help of Ms. Simone, they have managed to do so by sheer will. As Ms. Simone says, "She would protect Mr. Simpson's extensive archives with her life," since they chronicle a lifetime of thousands of works bought and sold by Mr. Simpson. Their historic value in so much as they trace and document each piece is worth well over 1.75 million dollars.

Both of Simpson's sons had not been involved much with the gallery during their father's lifetime. Simpson Jr.'s choices were different; supporting people's rights as a politician is more in line with who he became. He and his brother Ken stayed out of the art business and allowed their father his dignity and privacy till the end of his days, until Simpson Sr. requested that his eldest son, Merton Jr. take over from an influential and powerful friend he had appointed power of attorney and had not acted in anyone's best interest, but his own.

On March 13th I visited the Merton Simpson Gallery and it seemed that Simpson Jr. and Alaina Simone are breathing exciting fresh energy into the gallery. Simone presented an important new show, ICONOMANIA. The room was buzzing with refreshed optimism as the beautiful Ms. Simone graciously welcomed everyone to view the show, listen to great music and share a glass of good wine.

I found it moving and unique, blending traditional African ceremonial pieces and colorful contemporary iconography with a through line of color and pattern to accent statement.

One of the most poignant works on exhibit is Tyrone Mitchell's, "Coltrane's Horse." Deeply moving, his work goes far beyond the simplicity of the surface of what we see, not shaped only by his African cultural heritage, but by his American inheritance of virtues and failures without distinction of color, but expression of soul. An excerpt from a Walt Whitman poem, "Song to myself" written on the newly carved pristine core of a piece of salvaged building from a former 500-year-old Chinese temple. "Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill me, If I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me," acts as the psychic conduit fusing together this sculpture.

At its base, exquisitely carved flower motifs decorate the foundation. Traditional African patterns ornament the ovalescent center while the figure is surrounded at top and bottom with the inherited African motifs of the nation he was born to -- but what is inside Mr. Mitchell is boundless without physical context to distinguish him from any other. By carving the sculpture, he rejuvenates the tree from which it came and reveals an untouched surface, transcending our linear existence. Like a "sunrise" this piece emerges from from its aged encasement as temple to its new symbolic form. Until we are relieved of only seeing the obvious, we cannot enter the realm of endless possibilities, where we can reclaim, and therefore reshape our existence.

Interspersed are the arcane Bundu Helmut masks of the Mende tradition in Liberia. The erotic masks of the secret society of Sande women are crowned with carved vaginal fans, announcing the right of passage for young women while sustaining the practice of circumcision that is part of their arrival to womanhood.

Frances Acea's ominous, but amusing black mask images on paper speak to his take on enmity and the Illuminati. They were delightfully scary and ominous.

Arron Phillips covers his face in black grease paint while sharing the canvas with 2 masks which he dubs "Happiness" and "Hell," the worlds he wrestles between.

There are large canvasses from emerging artists Noel Leon with Minnie and Mickey Mouse readdressed, along with photographs which invite us to wonder, embrace, and acknowledge iconography. Feeding through this theme are strategically presented patterns as displayed in Lillya Lifanova's obsessive works of rolled paper on canvas.

This is an exhibit Merton Simpson himself would have enjoyed -- as it goes further than the eye can see, and blends a multicultural cast of artists ranging from 20-60 years old. I am sure wherever Simpson Sr. is, he is, over the moon (so to speak) and proudly encouraging Merton Simpson Jr. and Alaina Simone to fight the good fight and keep up the good work! It's all worth it, to keep the legacy intact for generations to come. Buoy up your spirit and go see the show!

Stay tuned for future articles on http://www.mertonsimpsongallery.com/art/

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Lobbying for the Arts

March 18, 2014, 1:09 pm

≫ Next: Return of The Artists

≪ Previous: Interview and Review: Son Keeps His Father's Legacy in Motion, While "Others" Try to Stop the Train

Arts Advocacy Day 2014 is next week (March 24-25). But what to advocate this year? More money? Always nice. More prestige? That, too.

The argument I would put forth to artists and art organizations alike -- who most likely will be calling on local, regional politicians and Congress -- is the role that art can and must play in the everyday life of every human being, in our schools, and our community as never before. This has become an economic, as well as a social, imperative.

Given the outsourcing of jobs and off shoring of whole businesses -- all consequences of globalization of course -- there is an urgent need to define this age we're in, and to advocate for recognition and meaningful change in attitudes that the arts are not only nice but also necessary to the wealth and well-being of our nation.

If we fail to alert America to this looming crisis, we will only see a continued downward spiral of our economy, our young people will not find the work they want and need, the purchasing power of the average family will dwindle, and the state of America's prowess in both the economic and political arena will be lost.

Daniel Bell, author and Harvard sociologist, in a book called The Coming Post Industrial Society first published in 1973 looked backward in time and noted how the invention of the cotton gin by Eli Whitney transformed the farm, forced people into the cities and created what we now call the Industrial Revolution.

He could see that computers and telecommunications like the cotton gin of an earlier era were bringing about yet another shift in the global economy, which he called the Post Industrial Society. Bell's treatise was the first literary effort that identified structural changes in society leading to the Information Age.

Now, 40 or so years later, we are struggling to define yet another shift in the basic structure of the world's economy. We know it's global, and Thomas Friedman of the New York Times has told us, it's "flat." But it is creativity -- simply defined as "the quality or ability to create or invent something, originality" -- that best defines the quality most of us need to succeed in the new economy. And it is art that best leads us to creativity and in turn, innovation.

But again, it is not as important what we call this new age. Call it The Creative Age as Business Week once did or The Age of Innovation, which Business Week later did thinking that might appeal more to the business reader, or call it The Age of Creativity and Innovation and make everyone happy.

What is important is that we recognize that a whole new economy and society based upon creativity and innovation is emerging and that, as a consequence, we recognize the vital importance of reinventing our communities, our schools, our businesses, our government to meet the challenges such major shifts in the structure of the economy are compelling.

Tax reform, education reauthorization, and support for arts and arts education will come more easily if that support is seen and understood to be an economic imperative. Nothing less will ensure America's dominant economic, social and political position in the 21st century.

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Return of The Artists

March 18, 2014, 1:47 pm

≫ Next: Israel Galván's 'La Curva' at Schimmel Theater

≪ Previous: Lobbying for the Arts

TAlk to me

You've gotta get up and try, and try, and try
Gotta get up and try, and try, and try
You gotta get up and try, and try, and try

Just think of all those hungry mouths we have to feed
Take a look at all the suffering we breed
So many lonely faces scattered all around
Searching for what they need
Is this the world we created

We are the children, the last generation
We are the ones they left behind
And I wonder when we are ever gonna change it
Living under the fear till nothing else remains

Emancipate yourselves from mentAl slavery
None but ourselves can free our minds

There is no difference in what we're doing in here
That doesn't show up as bigger symptoms out there

Live is life!

But we're never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy

If you're seeing things
Running through your head
Who can you call

It's an SOS it's an SOS, oh yes, oh yes, it's an SOS
It's an SOS, it's an SOS, like a bullet in the head, it's an SOS

Also please take a moment to locate this planet's emergency exits

And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice

We're gonna build a new Dream
We've got to make it stand tall
It's got to last a long time

We're all in this
We're in this one together

Shiny happy people holding hands

24-25 March 2014!!

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Israel Galván's 'La Curva' at Schimmel Theater

March 18, 2014, 2:19 pm

≫ Next: Wayne Thiebaud, Frida Kahlo: Art Calories Galore

≪ Previous: Return of The Artists

Israel Galván in La Curva at Pace's Schimmel Theater
Photo: Kevin Yatarola

Israel Galván comes with the reputation as a performer who doesn't mind irritating people. He is more concerned with expressing himself in as pure a manner as possible. It may be that flamenco purists would have found much to take issue with in his La Curva, presented at the Schimmel Theatre as part of the Flamenco Festival, but he found a receptive and appreciative audience in New York.

As a dancer, Israel Galván has more in common with Fred Astaire than he does with his flamenco-dancing peers. In the same way that Astaire was a towering legend to classical ballet dancers like Baryshnikov and Villella, Galván is already a legend among his dancing peers in Spain. Like Astaire, Galván uses everything around him to arrive at his deeply personal expression. He dances with and within his environment. His speed is unparalleled, his focus so sharp. His every movement is so clearly defined that it's obvious he's fully aware and in control of everything he does.

Marina Harss described Galván thus: "Unlike most flamenco dancers, whose movements dig deeply into the floor, Galván springs into the air like a coil, legs split, spinning, or feet beating in the air." The same was true of Astaire. His tapping was lighter than air and he moved with elegant fluidity. Margot Fonteyn noted that Astaire made "dancing look easier than walking, more natural than breathing." This is also true of Galván.

There's one crucial difference between two. Where Astaire could never look less than composed and graceful, Galván is willing to embrace the grotesque. This goes beyond our current understanding of grotesque as ugly into the medieval notion of grotesque as the realm of the fantastic. Galván has no fear. He twists himself into physical contortions that are unmistakably intended to challenge our notion of what is beautiful and acceptable. It's part comedy and part serious inquiry. But it's all under his control.

The quality and range of his movement is what astonishes. The whip-like speed of his hands, feet and pirouettes is sometimes almost too fast for the eye and the sound is essential for affirming what you saw. There is nothing he does that is not under his control, no matter how rapid or off balance. When he was dancing on the table and tipping it, I feared it wouldn't hold him. It was a moment of astonishment to realize that it was all under his control. He uses his body as a percussion instrument with a never-ending range of sounds to explore. He slaps away at his thighs, snaps his fingers, smacks his chest and belly, explores the contours of his jacket to play the folds and pockets, not omitting his cheeks, teeth and head.

Everything on stage is a prop in service of the goal of total expression. You forget at some point that Galván is a flamenco dancer and take the great leap to join him on his journey of creating theatrical magic. He dances with a metal chair, a wooden chair, mounts a table, engages the piano, plays rhythms on his body. Large chunks of rosin get crunched underfoot with a strangely satisfying sound and the powder left behind makes footprints on the black floor. Everything is a source of sound and another way to interact with the world. A pair of rectangular metal sheets standing on the right side of the stage are tipped over and become a tiny floor that creates sharp, metallic sounds that allow him to pierce the air with his zapateo. It is the first of his small stages within the stage.

Various rectangles around the stage are used to showcase his personal staccato symphony. A rectangle of light, another of metal, the rectangle of the table and the final one of flour. Each became a dance floor and a dance partner. Each of these spaces played a part in a theatrical experience that was far removed from the tablaos of southern Spain.

In a sense, La Curva can be described as a flamenco show about flamenco, a meta-flamenco. The trappings of traditional flamenco are stripped away, paving the way for something new. There are no guitars and there's no company of dancers. There are no batas de cola or other accoutrements of old school flamenco.

Sylvie Courvoisier, a Swiss-born pianist and composer, ruled over the left side of the stage and her piano was the perfect accompaniment for this show. She never let you forget that the piano is a percussion instrument. Her rich and complex music covered the sound spectrum as she plinked and caressed the strings simultaneously to create a soundscape that merged perfectly with Galván's vision. Her deftly inserted musical quotations included the sometimes plaintive and sometimes urgent strains of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. It's a reminder that this show is an homage to previous artists of the avant garde, like Vicente Escudero, and that Galván is a follower of the new way, not the old. It may be that Galván is paying tribute but this is his own show and he seems to be looking forward more than backward.

Inés Bacán, cantaora of the cante jondo, and Bobote, the palmero, occupied the table on right side of the stage. Bacán's voice is as elemental and traditional as it gets. She sings in a pure and unadorned gitana style. The table was wired for sound and Bobote turned it into a powerful musical instrument before Galván took it over. This table served as the setting for a warm musical intimacy that conjured the close feeling of family. It reminds one of a table that might be found in the home of a young flamenco dancer where the compas that comprise the basic rhythms of flamenco are first learned by banging them out on the table. As they traded compas back and forth Bobote and Galván seemed to be conversing in rhythm.

That oppositional interplay between Courvoisier's free-ranging, modernist piano on the left and the opposing tradition of the cante jondo and palmero at the table allowed Galván to go back and forth between some notion of comforting conventionality and the flip side of embracing the modern. His ability to go back and forth requires such a level of virtuosity that it could be irritating if it were simply used to show off. Galván fortunately uses his ability to create his own deeply personal and atmospheric theater of movement and his tricks are never allowed to be the focus.

The culmination of the show is a stupendous tour de force of something approaching ritual consummation with the final stage within the stage: a rectangle of powder. It is flour, about three inches deep. As Galván plunges into this final arena the sound of his feet morphs into something profound, like a massive heartbeat. He stomps and kicks at the flour, sending flying trails of energy through the air and across the surface of the stage. And then he plunges face first into it and becomes one with the stage. He covers his body and face with it and emerges in a denouement that is spellbinding. We are given a moment to process it. The stage looks like it has been destroyed. All the carefully stacked chairs have been tipped over and the mess of flour is everywhere. What is left to say? Nothing. So he sits down and takes off his shoes.

As the show wound down, we were left to consider that there are an infinite number of ways to be a flamenco artist. The traditional mode will last as it does with classical ballet and it will always have its fans but what is coming next will not be denied. Galván is too potent a creative force to be stifled and he will probably stir up a lot more people before he's done dancing. We can only hope that he comes back to New York often and collaborates with people here. The dance scene could use some new blood and Galván's vital originality would have a tremendous impact.

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Wayne Thiebaud, Frida Kahlo: Art Calories Galore

March 18, 2014, 4:49 pm

≫ Next: Theater: Arianda Can't Rescue Murky Tales From Red Vienna

≪ Previous: Israel Galván's 'La Curva' at Schimmel Theater

Let me ask you, my friends, what would happen if I presented you with a rich variety of the most delicious eye-catching pies, candies, and many other desserts? And, I would swear that you can gobble them up without worrying about calories. Too good to be true? OK, enough teasing...

Of course, I'm talking about the art of one of the most revered Californian artists, nonagenarian Wayne Thiebaud. Funny, but I simply cannot think of him as 93 years old, because his most recent works reveal him to be a jovial 93 years young fellow. There are two concurrent museum exhibitions in Southern California devoted to six decades of his illustrious career.

The Weisman Museum of Art at Pepperdine University, Malibu, presents 85 prints and drawings created by Thiebaud between 1948 and 2004. His is not just a long career, but, a very prolific one. Therefore, there was plenty of material to choose from. Interestingly enough, in the last twenty years, this is actually the third exhibition of his art organized by the Weisman Museum, and this is clear evidence of the museum's devotion to and affection for Wayne Thiebaud's oeuvre. The Laguna Art Museum has another in-depth exhibition dedicated to the art of Wayne Thiebaud, and there is a special personal touch to it. Though the artist lived most of his life in Sacramento, he spent much of his youth in Southern California, and obviously has a particular fondness for Laguna Beach. His current museum exhibition there, "American Memories," is comprised of about 60 paintings, drawings, and prints - all of them selected by the artist himself, and most of them from his own studio.

Looking at his iconic still lifes - all these brightly colored yummy cupcakes and slices of pies, sitting on store shelves, ready to be devoured - it's impossible not to think about American consumerism. But, these slightly cartoonish images are impregnated with a delicious sense of irony. We know that all these calories are not good for our health, but, Thiebaud's trademark luscious palette and rich brushwork make you want to gobble up all these goodies, no matter what.

The other favorite theme of Thiebaud art is landscape, with a particular focus on California's geography, especially our dramatic coastline. It's intriguing to watch how some of his landscapes shift from representational to more abstract depictions of terrain. There is a definite dialogue between these Thiebaud landscapes and Richard Diebenkorn's famous Ocean Park series.

The only subject matter that somehow was not successfully conquered by the artist is portraiture. His characters stare at you without revealing anything particularly interesting about themselves. I don't want to be nasty, but, these portraits come across as "empty" calories - especially when displayed next to his irresistible, high caloric still lifes.

Now, a few words about another not-to-be-missed exhibition, which just opened last weekend at the Museum of Latin American Art in Long Beach. It's titled "Frida Kahlo, Her Photos," and is comprised of two hundred photographs from Kahlo's personal archive, which has more than six thousand personal photographs and items belonging to her and her husband, Diego Rivera. For more than 50 years, this treasure trove of material was sealed and hidden from public view - but, not anymore.

First, we see Frida as a young girl with her family, and then we see her blossoming into a gorgeous woman. We see her friends, and her lovers. And we see horrifying images of Frida recuperating in the hospital, after a tragic accident.

And, of course, we see many photos of Diego Rivera, including some from his trip to Soviet Russia in 1927, to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the 1917 October Revolution.

Even if you are not a big fan of Frida Kahlo as an artist, let me assure you that this exhibition will give you the palpable sensation of the most tumultuous decades of the twentieth century: Love, Revolution, Betrayal, Sex, Death - you name it - it's all there in these photos.

If you want to learn more about Edward's Fine Art of Art Collecting Classes, please visit his website here. You can also read The New York Times article about his classes here.

--

Edward Goldman is an art critic and the host of Art Talk, a program on art and culture for NPR affiliate KCRW 89.9 FM. To listen to the complete show and hear Edward's charming Russian accent, click here.

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Theater: Arianda Can't Rescue Murky Tales From Red Vienna

March 18, 2014, 7:07 pm

≫ Next: First Nighter: David Grimm's "Tales From Red Vienna"

≪ Previous: Wayne Thiebaud, Frida Kahlo: Art Calories Galore

TALES FROM RED VIENNA ** out of ****

MANHATTAN THEATRE CLUB

What's the most essential skill for an actor who wants a successful and creatively satisfying career? It's not talent. A lot of actors have talent. A lot of stars don't. But for the lucky few who actually get a shot at shaping their career, the most under-appreciated skill they need is picking the right roles, the right shows, the right talent to work with.

Actress Nina Arianda burst onto the scene with her Tony-winning turn in Venus In Fur and has followed up with movies like the gem Win Win and Woody Allen's Oscar-winning Midnight In Paris, not to mention her Tony-nominated Broadway debut in Born Yesterday. Tales From Red Vienna is not a similar success but playwright David Grimm is a serious talent with support from The Public, Sundance, Hartford Stage and others. Perhaps they'll click on some future project and her commitment to him will pay off. For now, we have a muddled effort of serious intent that is likely a stumble on the way to further success or -- perhaps -- an indication of questionable taste from her team.

Seeing who can capitalize on opportunity and who cannot is one of the fascinating aspects of the arts that is rarely tracked. With three movies in the bank and producers lining up to capitalize on her instant and well-deserved acclaim, Arianda will surely have plenty of chances to prove her taste is as dependable as her talent.

On paper, it's certainly a plum role. Helena (Arianda) is a war widow in Vienna barely subsisting after her husband died in the trenches of World War I. Fallen on hard times, she has turned to prostitution. Almost as if on cue, an old "friend" Mutzi (Tina Benko) flits back into Helena's life. Wealthy and indifferent to others, Mitzi has come to pay her respects and see how Helena is doing... 18 months after Helena's husband died. In fact, she wants Helena to serve as a discrete cover so Mitzi can take her new young lover Bela (a solid Michael Esper) out on the town. To both Helena and Bela's dismay, they realize he has been a client of hers. But this impassioned young journalist won't leave her alone. Is he toying with her or does he love her? Along for the ride are the great Kathleen Chalfant as Helena's no-nonsense housekeeper and a very appealing Michael Goldsmith as an adoring delivery boy (man! he would say) who loves Helena as only a teenager can.

The play begins arrestingly in Helena's shabby but neat home in the middle of the night. (John Lee Beatty's set hints awkwardly at the Vienna just off stage here, though the home is fine and he offers a very detailed and convincing cemetery later on.) It's dark, not a word is said and the clock ticks ominously on the wall, making clear that something urgent is at hand. A woman veiled and all in black leads a man inside, money is wordlessly exchanged and they have sex. But it's the tension and drama of the scene that stays with us. She is tentative but determined, ashamed (perhaps?) but resolved to do what she must. The man is polite, then eager and then relentlessly rough as passion overcomes him. She is left in tears even as he yearns clearly to ask for another assignation. Nothing that comes after it can match this opening scene by the two leads.

Indeed, the more the play proceeds, the more it loses focus. The minor characters know who they are and are convincingly delivered. But Helena remains a mystery. Her relationship with her friend Mitzi and even the delivery boy seems to waver from scene to scene, and not in an interesting way. Does Bela love her? Can he be trusted? Or will he tire of her once the allure of sleeping (for free) with a prostitute wears off?

It seems to be moving towards depicting a woman in mourning (though she is mourning her circumstances, not a husband she apparently married too soon and admired but didn't love). Slowly, this woman comes back to life thanks to a new lover, her disposition lightening just as her widow's weeds go from black to grey to white with the passage of time.

And yet, there's far more specificity in the costumes of Anita Yavich and the wigs and makeup of Tom Watson than the words of Grimm. Director Kate Whoriskey (the Pulitzer Prize-winning Ruined) can hardly be blamed for losing track of the emotions when the playwright did when writing it. That may be why the unchanging, secondary characters played by Chalfant and Benko and Goldsmith remain more vivid and enjoyable even as Helena and Bela become confusing.

SPOILER: Stop here if you are planning to see Tales From Red Vienna (and since it stars Arianda, I'd hardly be surprised if you were). But it's hard to discuss the show without tackling the second act. That involves a major plot twist. In a bizarre deus ex machina, Mitzi suddenly brings Helena's husband back from the grave in revenge for finding her boy toy sleeping with a friend she considers beneath herself. It turns out Karl (Lucas Hall) wasn't dead but just a deserter. After months under an assumed name in a hospital and then living overseas afraid to return, he's decided to show up and drag Helena off to a new life.

Hall makes no impression (beyond looking perfect for playing the younger brother to Matthew Morrison) because this is where Grimm goes completely off the rails. Even though Helena all but declared her love for Bela right before this shocking, soap-like revelation (and if she wasn't declaring her love, it's very poorly written), suddenly she doesn't know what she wants. Her husband is a dolt and a demanding one at that (when he calls her an adulterer, why does no one mention she could hardly be an adulterer when she believed her husband to be dead?).

But suddenly, Helena becomes self-actualized or something: she doesn't want her lover and she doesn't want her husband. ("I'm warning you for the last time!" she suddenly blurts out -- or something like that -- in a moment of passion, though we've missed when she was warning him before to go away or leave her alone or whatever it is she thinks she's warned him about.) Huh? If Grimm means to show a woman coming back to life and finding the inner strength to stand on her own two feet without the need of a lover she has outgrown or a husband she doesn't love (and who would?), well, he hasn't written that play. Not even close.

Arianda and Esper have chemistry but they're unable to maintain their fire when the actions of their characters fail to make any sense. Without any words, the elemental scene of two people in a room, people filled with desire and desperation and cynicism and despair can grip us. But tales should know where they're going and make sense in the end, even if they didn't make sense along the way. Tales From Red Vienna makes no sense at the end, even if talented actors keep us fitfully engaged while the teller strays further and further from his path.

THEATER OF 2014

Beautiful: The Carole King Musical ***

Rodney King ***

Hard Times ** 1/2

Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead **

I Could Say More *

The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Runner **

Machinal ***

Outside Mullingar ***

A Man's A Man * 1/2

The Tribute Artist ** 1/2

Transport **

Prince Igor at the Met **

The Bridges Of Madison County ** 1/2
Kung Fu (at Signature) **

Stage Kiss ***

Satchmo At The Waldorf ***

Antony and Cleopatra at the Public **

All The Way ** 1/2

The Open House (Will Eno at Signature) ** 1/2

Wozzeck (at Met w Deborah Voigt and Thomas Hampson and Simon O'Neill)
Hand To God ***

Tales From Red Vienna **

Appropriate (at Signature) *

Thanks for reading. Michael Giltz is the founder and CEO of the forthcoming websiteBookFilter, a book lover's best friend. It's a website that lets you browse for books online the way you do in a physical bookstore, provides comprehensive info on new releases every week in every category and offers passionate personal recommendations every step of the way. It's like a fall book preview or holiday gift guide -- but every week in every category. He's also the cohost of Showbiz Sandbox, a weekly pop culture podcast that reveals the industry take on entertainment news of the day and features top journalists and opinion makers as guests. It's available for free on iTunes. Visit Michael Giltz at his website and his daily blog. Download his podcast of celebrity interviews and his radio show, also called Popsurfing and also available for free on iTunes.

Note: Michael Giltz is provided with free tickets to shows with the understanding that he will be writing a review. All productions are in New York City unless otherwise indicated.

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First Nighter: David Grimm's "Tales From Red Vienna"

March 18, 2014, 8:24 pm

≫ Next: A Chicago Humorist Named 'Dont Fret' Cracks Up The Street

≪ Previous: Theater: Arianda Can't Rescue Murky Tales From Red Vienna

Nowhere in the program for Tales From Red Vienna, at Manhattan Theater Club's City Center Stage I, is there any indication that it's timed in anticipation of the 100th anniversary of the June 28, 1914 outbreak of World War I--or that playwright David Grimm wrote it with that in mind. According to a MTC spokesperson, neither is the case.

Yet, the rather histrionic work, which takes place in the Vienna of 1920, has everything to do with the direct effect of the so-called Great War--"the war to end all wars"--on three of its six pivotal characters. It has only a slightly less direct effect on its other three figures. (Perhaps only coincidentally, Peter Gill's Versailles, currently at London's Donmar Warehouse, which takes place in 1919, is deliberately programmed in remembrance of the First World War these 100 years on.)

When first viewed through the veil-like curtain designer John Lee Beatty places before his set, the also veiled Heléna Altman (Nina Arianda), is entering a home that appears to be hers. She's followed by a bearded man, who looks about her age and who, the audience later learns, is socialist journalist Béla Hoyos (Michael Esper). Béla puts what looks like cash down on one tabletop and takes Heléna on another.

Then both veils are removed, and the play proper begins. Heléna, served by outspoken retainer Edda Schmidt (Kathleen Chalfant) and adored by Jewish delivery boy Rudy Zuckermaier (Michael Goldsmith), is a war widow trying to make ends meet as a goodtime girl. It's a living held against her by Béla, who's so determined to redeem her that he forces what he considers his best attentions on her in a subsequent scene where she's visiting her husband's tombstone.

Béla's persistence is so effective that he wins her over, whereupon they both alienate the sympathies of "Mutzi" von Fessendorf (Tina Benko), the gossipy friend who introduced the lovers. While Edda hovers with the aim of keeping Heléna on as straight and narrow a path as possible and with Rudy dancing attendance as he endures a mugging that foreshadows worsening Viennese anti-Semitism, things slowly begin to look as if they'll come up aces for Heléna and Béla.

But then they threaten not to.

(Spoiler alert: it's impossible to discuss the play and its purpose without disclosing even discreetly the following plot info. Anyone adamant about not learning of script twists or surprises had better read no farther.)

Since the body of Heléna's husband was supposedly destroyed at the front, the above-mentioned tombstone stands near no buried corpse. So when a man called Karl Hupka (Lucas Hall) arrives only a brief instant or two after Heléna and Béla commit to one another, their happiness is thrown into a WWI cocked hat.

Obviously. Grimm is looking at the damage the war did and not only to the soldiers fighting it but also to those keeping home fires burning, particularly the women--with Heléna standing in for all of them. What was called shellshock then, battle fatigue in World War II and is now considered post-traumatic stress disorder isn't limited to veterans, Grimm posits. This is, of course, an observation that applies today as well as back in that day.

To make his point, though, Grimm has drawn on familiar conceits. For instance, there's the old fantasy of the insistent Lothario redeeming the fallen woman, perhaps most famously employed in the 1990 hit film Pretty Woman. And how about the one where a long-missing spouse returns at the crucial moment? That one was widely popularized, for one example, in My Favorite Wife, the 1940 flick starring Cary Grant and Irene Dunne?

Even excusing these sorts of appropriations, Grimm's tale (forgive me, I was going to say Grimm's fairy tale), is inconsistent in the telling. It's also unfair. Making the case for the fate women endured during the Great War--and, by implication, in every war--he scants the physiological and psychological wounds men suffered.

He asks understanding for the childless Heléna's solutions to poverty. She receives the dramatist's forgiveness, while Karl doesn't. His failings--as opposed to Heléna's admitted mistakes--aren't excused. While he limps as a show of his affliction, he's introduced as a deserter and depicted as violent. The balance is tipped against him through behavior that is nowhere as fully traced to his harrowing experiences as Heléna's is to hers.

Also, Béla's stalking Heléna dwindles to a good socialist's only slightly misguided intentions, although his socialism remains a superficial character trait. The prologue, in which he has his crude way with her, surfaces later as no more than a swain's too fervent attention. Béla's refusal to accept repeated resistance from her devolves into a seduction of the ultimately willing, all of it adjacent to her presumed dead husband's tombstone. If patrons flash on Richard III interrupting Lady Anne when she's following her murdered husband's corpse, they can be forgiven.

As directed by Kate Whoriskey, the cast does an admirable job. Arianda--after her glittering Venus in Fur breakout performance and the Born Yesterday follow-up--has another demanding assignment, but a more subdued one. Initially stunning in black as seen through Beatty's curtain veil (Anita Yavich's costumes), she plays the battered-heart prostitute with as much subtlety as the role allows.

Esper is more than acceptable as Béla. He certainly can't help it if the man he's playing too often shows signs of becoming a character in a farce. The always-reliable Chalfant helps matters whenever Edda arrives with tea on a tray or something of that nature. (Isn't it just a few weeks ago that she was playing the NAACP's Mary Ovington in the New Federal Theatre's Dr. Du Bois and Miss Ovington?) Benko, Goldsmith and Hall serve their roles well.

Incidentally, though with his title Grimm suggests a political bent to his play as well as through several mentions of approaching Communism, he doesn't substantiate the reference to any extent. Instead, he presents a domestic drama in which death and rebirth are themes--with flowers and a closed window serving as increasingly prominent symbols. But it's not an especially persuasive domestic drama, at that.

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A Chicago Humorist Named 'Dont Fret' Cracks Up The Street

March 19, 2014, 7:49 am

≫ Next: Music I (Mostly) Hold Dear: Beaser

≪ Previous: First Nighter: David Grimm's "Tales From Red Vienna"

Oh, so you're a comedian now, hah? A real funny boy, hah?

Art on the streets is not always neatly folded into archetypes. Street artists and graffiti writers are not all anti-social miscreants intent on running afoul of the law, although that is a satisfying and simple characterization some critics default to.

In truth, these days there are a variety of voices in the conversation on the street. Some are social commentators, others are anarchists, showmen, activists, nihilists, narcissists, dreamers, storytellers, poets.

2014-03-19-brooklynstreetartdontfretjaimerojo0314web3.jpg

Don't Fret (photo © Jaime Rojo)

Then there are the comedians. We've noticed that a surprising number of them come from Chicago. Possibly the harsh winters in that windy city turn people silly on the street. Among the funniest Chi-town hoodlums we've seen are Left-Handed Wave, Nice One, and of course the incorrigible Goons.

2014-03-19-brooklynstreetartdontfretjaimerojo0314web10.jpg

Don't Fret (photo © Jaime Rojo)

Add to this list the humorist human Don't Fret, who knows how to depict us in all our eclectic and imperfect wonder without passing judgment but causing a cryptic cackle of recognition when you run into him. It's a sophisticated comedian who knows how to pull off common scenes with an insider wink. It's not that you know his people personally -- wait, that is exactly what it is like. Even when he is just using text to describe a person, you know the people he's referring to because they live in your neighborhood, cook your Halal street meats, coach little league, cook your books, attend your family barbecue.