Pawn & X have decided that this is our theme song for this trip:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFdhIcldb0w
The incomparable Phyllis Diller with Pink Martini.
Our Theme Song – London 2014
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Category Archives: Arts
A Midsummer Night’s Erotic Dream
Bottom indeed! Okay, wait, I’ll start with the highfalutin’ artistic stuff, then we can deal with the low-brow artistic stiffy.
I will say this; Tom Morris made me cry tonight. He brought tears to my eyes through his sheer mastery of beauty in the moment, the all important moment. Engineers speak of a moment of inertia, or an angular moment. This traces to the Latin word, mÅmentum, meaning motion, cause of motion, influence, importance. MÅmentum shares a variant stem, mÅ, with movÄ“re, to move. To move. Pawn is of the opinion that this is an essential aspect to successful art, and when truly moved, emotion can’t be far behind. So I was brought to tears by beauty.
Titania and her arms
First, however, the prosaic. X and I arrived in London midday today, delayed a bit by ferocious winds and the continuing floods. Yes, the floods even effected us, as they have weakened tree roots, which when combined with the aforementioned winds, led to many downed trees on the tracks. Oh, and the bum £5 note from Flame, which sent the hack into conniptions of laughter, “There’ve been 14 generations of currency since this thing was printed,” he guffawed, as he handed it back to me, and X scrambled to dig out more, fresher, currency.
Once ensconced in our flat (Owen, the landlord, was a charmer), X repaired to bed for a nap, and I braved the elements, and the slings and arrows of outrageous banking, to stock up on the bare essentials, top-off our Oyster cards, and get some cash. That only took 3 hours!
But the crème-De-la-creme was tonight’s fare, so let’s not waste any more time getting to that. We were lucky enough to book a couple of ace seats — third row centre in stalls — for the final performance of Bristol Old Vic and Handspring Puppets’ production of Shakespeare’s oft produced classic, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, at Barbican Centre.
Reuniting director Tom Morris and Handspring for the first time since their now classic, War Horse, changed how people thought about puppetry (at least changed the minds of those who hadn’t already been paying attention). That production utilized enormous puppet horses (several of them) each with three operators, which breathed life into the title character, Joey a quarter horse pressed into military service, and his comrades. In this production, puppetry makes mortals into gods and imps into comical abstractions, among other things.
Saska Portway as Titania
Saskia Portway as Hippolyta transforms into her goddess Titania with a large mask and an attentive array of “arms” (think Hindu deity) formed by ensemble with wooden planks, and David Ricardo Pearce as Theseus transforms into Oberon by dint of a similar mask and a single large, muscular arm with articulated hand. Add to this the brilliant abstraction of Puck from a hand basket, paint sprayer, mallet, handsaw and miscellaneous garden implements, and you’ve got the majority of the puppets. Oh, and Titania’s fairies, of course. That’s a scary bunch!
David Ricardo Pearce as Oberon
This is a long show, and it relishes both the bawdy humour of Shakespeare’s text, and the languorous pace — clocking in at just under 3 hours (with 1 interval). There is much to like here, but what especially charmed me was the fantastic ensemble work, the reaching back to Indo/Arryan roots for the god figures, and the way that whilst embracing the bawdy, vulgar humour, they’ve treated the gods with reverence and through them brought us a new appreciation for the power of beauty in our lives.
So, an abstract Puck, you ask? Yes, Puck is portrayed with Bunraku puppetry — three puppeteers; one for the torso and head and two for the limbs — but rather than the linked parts of a traditional Bunraku puppet, in this case all the parts are separate. The parts sometimes come together or fly apart, the puppet may swoop or careen about the stage, evoking animated characters so common in film fare these days, but made real by the puppet and the puppeteers. I cannot find an image of this to show you, but it certainly put me in mind of the work of Shane Walsh.
Shane Walsh
And the bawdy? Well, in the story, Bottom, the self-important I-can-do-it-all actor, is transformed into an ass (think donkey) and Oberon enacts a spell to put Titania in thrall to him. In the twisted mind of Handspring, however, this involves unpanting the actor who plays Bottom and strapping him into a carriage wherein his feet, with floppy socks, are the ears, his arms work cranks which, via elaborate machinery, move the realistic legs, and his buttocks, bared, are the brow of the ass, as it were. Don’t worry, no photos for this. The crowd loved this — shrieks and hilarity.
So what made me cry? It was this; the play as most of us know it ends when the Duke, Theseus, oversees the nuptials of Hermia to Lysander and Helena to Demetrius, but there follows an entire, quite bawdy entertainment by Bottom and his gang. Then, upon the stroke of midnight, Theseus and Hippolyta chase the newlyweds off to their bed chambers. Far upstage are the gods, Titania and Oberon, tall and striking wicker-people with the heads we saw earlier, but now with titanic bodies. As the lights on the stage dim, we become aware that the heads of these immobile statues are moving, they turn towards each other, and we cannot help but feel the tension and passion between them.
The young lovers creep onto the stage, and start to embrace and entwine. The gods move towards us, arms spread and flexing, their essential nature revealed: within them the motive power comes from the actors behind each god’s human counterpart. Their power over their believers is made manifest. But it was that initial moment of movement, that first sign of life in the gods, which is what moved me. With any luck, you too will find beauty in art which will move you this way. It is transcendent.
A Valentine’s Day Wedding Dress
Happy Valentine’s Day – 2014 This afternoon finds Pawn in a pensive mood, somewhat contemplative, and rather content. Killing some time with friends R & L in a DC hotel, before the shuttle to Dulles International Airport comes along at 5:35. Rebecca Holderness premiers her latest directorial success, The Wedding Dress by Nelson Rodrigues, at Spooky Action Theatre, here in The District, in the basement stage of the oldest Universalist congregation in the country, on the corner of 16th & S NW.
Visual from Wedding Dress
Pawn & G were lucky enough to get to see the final dress/tech rehearsal on Wednesday night, and had this to say:
This is a beautiful and special piece of work, one of which they can be quite proud. The realization on stage of such a difficult piece of writing is itself an achievement, but to do so with such depth, soul, wit and humor is truly a gift. A gift from them, each, to us. Thanks! I don’t mean to be all drippy here, but really, this was a lovely, visually stunning, engaging, and moving experience. This being a dress, we have no program, and so cannot cite specific performers by name, but that’s hardly necessary here. The ensemble worked so well together, the blocking and stage pictures constantly brought us to see the whole. This was brilliant. Add to this wonderful ensemble the contributions of each of the technical creatives — video, audio, lighting, costumes and set — and I was left with one indelible reaction once it was over: It was orchestral. When the production staff asked me where it was set, I answered honestly, “In a dream.” I am not given to such praise lightly, but Holderness, et alia earned it. Surely as the cast inhabit this world over the next four weeks they will grow with it and in it and find ever more nuance not just in the words of the script, on the page, but in the interpretation of that difficult model of life for which Rodrigues has provided a scaffold in text, you have imbued with the dressing of truth and thus made real.
Rodrigues (1912-80), the most gifted of Brazilian playwrights, penned this piece, Vestido de Noiva in Portuguese, in 1943. It was hailed at the time as a extraordinary work with its use of vernacular dialogue and its explorations into the psychological states of the lead characters. He was a journalist and fabulist, whose joy of scandal, and scandal sheets, is reflected in this work. Holderness and her team play liberally with this motif, as teams of scribes and camera men regularly appear on scene to document what’s happening, or to cause it. They dangle at the ends of telephone umbilical cords linking them with copy desks back at their competing journals. This is a compelling component of the production, and leads us to weigh the rest of the action as we would any other scandal-sheet melieu.
The newsman is ready to strike
If you find yourself in our nation’s capitol city between now and March 9, 2014, please go take a look. You won’t regret it.
What’s next for Pawn you ask? A red-eye from Dulles to Heathrow, and a fortnight in London, which side trips to Manchester and ??? Stay tuned!
Stephan Koplowitz: Water Sight, Milwaukee/A Delectable Evening of Imperfection
lines, tides, shores…
Yet another reason to love Milwaukee — UW-M Peck School of the Arts Summer Dances program. This year brings us Stephan Koplowitz and Water Sight, Milwaukee. This suite of site-specific dances comprise two programs, the three movement lines, tides, shores… (above) set in the Cudahy Gardens of the Milwaukee Art Museum, and The Current Past (below) set at the base of the North Point Water Tower on Milwaukee’s East Side.
Frances Wha?!? (contains spoilers)
If only this were indicitive of the movie we were to see. Alas, not.
Went to see this latest meandering from Noah Baumbach and can’t quite bring myself to believe the reviews. Huh?!? What a sniveling bit of naval-gazing tripe. If Frances were even the least bit sympathetic, were her life even the least bit plausible, maybe. But as it is it’s just a bunch of coddled twenty-somethings laying about living off the fatted parent (or roommate) and whining or lying about their lot.
I mean, really! Flying to Paris for a weekend!?! Gimme a break.
And the ending, what the hell was that? Suddenly Frances finds a spine and enough financial backing to assemble a large cast dance show? Where the hell did that woman come from? That certainly wasn’t the Vassar educated mushy pile of self induced ennui we got to know in the first 75 minutes of the film.
Jeez, if I wanted to watch a bunch of implausible New York women I’d watch Girls.
Waste of $10 if you ask me.
Words from the Northwest
Having a nice time here in Portlandia so far. Got to bed at 9:00 PST last night, so dang tired after having got up at 4:00 CST to get to the plane.
Lunch was Pok Pok, a Thai (mostly) restaurant my brother recommended. James Beard nominated even. Had a fabulous bowl of Kuaytiaw Reus (Boat Noodles), which is a rich broth with stewed beef, poached beef, meatballs (little tiny, dense, things), spinach, chilies and bean sprouts, with noodles. Yum! Along side I had an order of their Vietnamese Fish Sauce Wings, which my brother said were to die for, and he was right. These are large wings, (willingly given up by their former, naturally raised owners) marinated in fish sauce and palm sugar, deep fried, and then tossed in caramelized Phu Quec fish sauce and garlic. Wow! Could only eat half the order, though. So much food.
Vietnamese Fish Sauce Wings - Pok Pok
Then off to Portland Art Museum, which has a fairly rich collection. Many donations from the likes of the Broad Foundation, Paul Allen Foundation, some Ayers family trusts and foundations, etc. A lot of contemporary art, as well as the normal smattering of French schools, Impressionists, Abstract Expressionists, etc.
There was a lovely exhibition “In The Studio: Reflections on Artistic Life”, on display through May 19th. This exhibit features multiple media representations of the artists life in his/her atelier, with models, materials, influences, mentors, gallerists, agents, etc. All aspects of what actually goes in to being an artist. I really loved all the Red Grooms pieces, of which there were many, including some of his 3D Lithography pieces.
Jackson in Action - Red Grooms, 1997
Also, a very large collection of Asian arts. My favorite was the soon-to-close exhibit on Noh, the ancient Japanese theatrical form of the Samurai. This exhibit featured masks, costumes and painted depictions of Noh, both modern and historic. A very nice 2 and a half hours of browsing after lunch.
Ayakashi (Vengeful Warrior) - Unknown Artist, Japan, 17th century
I then went in search of a new power screwdriver, to replace the DeWalt 12V electric screwdriver which was confiscated by TSA agents.
No, really. I didn’t know you couldn’t bring one in carry-on. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t even really think about it. When I packed, I tried to consciously pack for either checking or carrying on my bag. When I saw how bad the weather was on the way to the airport, I decided to carry on, in case I ended up missing my (very tight) connecting flight in Denver. After standing in the longest security line I’ve ever experienced (at MKE or anywhere) I was told I could either give up the screw driver or go back and check my bag. Well, at that point I would have missed my flight (I ended up getting to the gate just as they made my boarding call) so I gave it up.
I started with a small, local, hardware store, but they didn’t have that model. They sent me to the DeWalt store (yes, they have one here) or the “Home Despot”, but thanked me for trying their small store first. I was headed to the DeWalt shop, but saw a Home Depot on the way, right next to my hotel, so stopped there, hopeful that they would still have one of last year’s models, as I still have the batteries, charger and other accessories of the lost tool, I wanted to get the same kind.
In the process, I ended up driving from NE (airport) to SW (Pok Pok) to Downtown (Art Museum) to N Central (Hardware) to NE (Hotel) — pretty much making a circuit of the city, mostly on surface streets. That was a treat.
Dinner took me to a nearby hotel which has a nice-enough restaurant attached, Shilo, as I didn’t want to drive after having a cocktail. It’s not as though Portland has any want of bars, taverns, cocktail lounges, etc. The demon alcohol lays comfortably here. The prevailing impression I have of the city, based on what I’ve seen so far, is of a really big version of our own Riverwest community, with coops, coffee shops, bars, taverns, brewing clubs (coffee and beer), bicycle shops (and coops), skateboard and moto clubs and shops, etc. Lots of bungalows and ranch houses, all very low and surrounded by verdure.
Anyhow, had some crab cakes, which were okay, along with Happy Hour discounted coconut shrimp and a Caesar salad. That, along with a couple of Martinis made with the local The Rogue (hat tip to Sarah Pallin) sealed things nicely, for a manageable $42 + tip.
One observation is that it is sometimes hard to tell the upright citizenry from the large homeless population — the preferred dress is strikingly similar. It’s not unusual to see someone in a nice establishment who you would swear you recently saw pan-handling on the street. Maybe they are the same, who’s to say…
Words From The River – Part III
Had a nice little visit to Beale Street last night. Went to Alfred’s on Beale for dinner and the Memphis Jazz Orchestra. The former was so-so, the latter quite good.
The St. Louis art scene was sparse yesterday. It being Sunday, almost everything was closed, save SLAM and CAMSTL. CAMSTL, unfortunately, was entirely given over to the Jeremy Deller exhibit we saw in London last year. Oh well, off I went to SLAM, located in the central Forest Park, along with the Zoo and several other cultural sites. Quite a lovely park, if I do say.
Right off the bat I saw a piece I liked, an Anselm Keifer “Bookcase” piece:
Anselm Keifer
The collection at SLAM is typical for regional art museums, with the exception of a large collection of Max Beckman, and other 20th century German artists, all from a bequest of Morton D. May, of May’s Department Stores. The museum is currently getting a new addition, which will open in June of this year. Unfortunately, that limited my visit somewhat. One highlight, which will likely draw me back again, was “Stone Sea” by Andy Goldsworthy, which the museum commissioned last year. The piece, a densely packed cacophony of stone arches is in a well between two galleries, but is currently visible only by peering down from the windows of the museum café. Once the new galleries are open, this will be much easier to see.
Andy Goldsworthy - Stone Sea (2012)
Funny thing is that I only stumbled across this when I saw a large selection of Goldworthy’s books in the gift shop. I quickly Googled and found that he had made the piece. A helpful docent suggested the café viewing option. Thanks!
Back on the road, I decided to bail on the Interstate and drove about an hour or two on US-61, the “Big River Road” down to Cape Gerardeau, MO. That was a great choice! I’ve grown weary of the sameness of the expressway view of the world, and really enjoyed the ups and downs, swerving and turning, slowing and stopping and small towns along the way of the old road.
The other day, on my way from Wichita to Jefferson City, I found myself driving right underneath a humongous bird swirl. You know, one of those massive flocks of, typically, starlings, which swoop and flit as one — much like schools of fish in the ocean. Well, back on the highway for the stretch through Arkansas, around mile marker 41 on I-55 in Arkansas, I was underneath two even bigger ones, combining into one!!
It was like the most sensual dance you have ever seen, this airborne pas de duex, as the two flocks seemed unsure (like tentative lovers) whether to combine or not. Ef-ing spectacular!! I cannot even begin to do justice to this in words, it was an almost religious experience. Then, about 20 miles later, I was underneath yet another large flock. These all happened around sunset, which I think is when the starlings take flight in search of their insect prey.
Anyhow, the drive to Memphis was nice. I had a pleasant evening stroll through a mostly abandoned downtown, seeking something to read at dinner (having exhausted every word in my New Yorker). I finally came across a Memphis Flyer box with a few issues in it, and over dinner immersed myself in that. Good read.
Words from the River – Part 1
I stopped in to a liquor store in Eagan, MN yesterday, to pick up some Scotch. My favorite swill, Clan McGreggor. They had liters for $12.99 or 1.75 liter for $26.99. Say What?!? Bought a small bottle.
Worked at the client’s last night from 6:00 – 11:30. Drove home in wet, sloppy, snow, but safely. Had a couple of scotches while watching TV, until suddenly all the channels went away. Called the front desk. “Oh, it must be because of the storm.” said the gormless twit behind the desk. Ha, Storm?!? This is ef-ing Minnesota, and a little teeny snow storm knocks out their satellite feed?? No excuse if you ask me.
Drove down to Kansas City today. Currently ensconced in the Holiday Inn at the Country Club Plaza, which if you know KC you know is a tony address. The Nelson-Atkins is just a short walk away.
Speaking of arts museums, went to the Walker yesterday. Had to pay the $12, as I left my MAM membership at home (grrr). Great new building — much different than the last time I was there, maybe 20 years ago. Had a huge exhibit on Cindy Sherman. WOW! Did you read the profile of Lena Dunham’s mother, the artist Laurie Simmons, in the New Yorker recently? In it, they talked about her knocking around Metro Pictures and other “in” galleries in the 70s & 80s, and she talked about learning to make good looking prints, and what a change that made to her work. Well, the same can be said for Sherman, a regular member of the Metro Pictures stable of artists. Her “Hollywood Film Stills” project is amazing, and the later, larger, work is simply arresting. So glad I got to see the show.
They also have a large installation called Midnight Party, which is a sprawling conglomeration of hundreds of works by over a hundred artsists, mostly pulled from their collection, and arranged brilliantly across several galleries on 3 floors. Some rooms are given over to curio-cabinet style displays, like a natural history museum, but all art. Quite good.
My only complaint was that the lighting, in general, was abysmal. Very hard to appreciate some of the work for all the glare.
I just got home from a fabulous dinner at Oklahoma Joe’s Bar-B-Que, in KC, KS. Here’s about 1/4 of the line of people waiting to order:
Queue at Oklahoma Joe's Bar-B-Que
That line twists and turns all the way to the street door. If it weren’t Valentine’s Day, I was told, the line would be out the door and down the block. Thank God I was dining alone on V Day, I say!
Here’s my dinner. I ordered a full rack with a side of coleslaw. The grill man hollered out, “Special Creamy!!” I almost blushed. 😉
Special Creamy
That’s either mighty fine eatin’, or a piece of Christopher Dorner. You be the judge!
This nice older couple came and sat next to me. Had a nice little conversation with them until the woman explained, “I talk to two kinds of people in this world; those who have accepted Jesus Christ Our Lord into their lives and hearts, and those who are just about ready to. Which type are you?”
“I’m the type who doesn’t believe in discussing religion with strangers over dinner.” I replied, and turned back to my food. What I wanted to say was something witty, like “If we’re going to discuss deeply personal and private matters, let’s talk about masturbation habits, instead. I’m sure it’ll be way more interesting!” 😉
Now back at the hotel, after trying to navigate dense, cryptic KC traffic and roadways without GPS. I was currently busy trying not to run down the horse drawn carriages that look like Tiffany Pumpkins festooned with garish lighting, slowly ferrying their cargo through the self-same cryptic streets. Thank god the other drivers were so busy gawking that they ignore my severe traffic transgressions.
The Clock
Chrstian Marclay's The Clock
Christian Marclay’s The Clock is both simple and difficult to explain. It is a 24 hour film produced by editing together bits and pieces of thousands of films from over 70 years of cinema. The museum screens the film such that the time in the film tracks real time. Almost every clip of film shows a clock or watch or the mention of time, or some other reference to the time. We got there around 10:00 AM and stayed until about 12:30. There was a wonderful building of excitement as the hour approached noon, starting at 11:40, with a clip from High Noon in which the town folk inveigh upon the sheriff to get out of town, and culminating in seemingly several terrorist acts, bank jobs, etc. all timed to commence at noon.
This does point up one of the oddities of the piece, which is that certain minutes seem to stretch out, such as hours (11:00, 12:00), for about 2 or 3 minutes. Also, one does witness time shift forward and back quite frequently, as it will be, say, 11:15, then 11:18, then 11:16. There are also odd coincidences. It seems, for example, that a quarter past is a common time for waking up “late” in film, so at 10:15 and 11:15 we are shown scenes of people just waking up, looking at the clock, and swearing.
The sensation of watching The Clock is something else. You get wrapped up in the action, but the action keeps shifting. You recognise this or that scene, but then it shifts again. Marclay’s expert sound editing makes the transitions seamless at times, and jarring at others. MoMA is just the latest to acquire a copy of the film, let’s hope more people get a chance to see this. X returned the next day for another 3 hours, from roughly 5:30 to 8:30 PM. She reports that that stretch featured a lot of meal preparation, cocktailing, etc. and had longer clips of each film than the morning span we saw together.
Art and Dreaming
After a morning jaunt up to the northern tip of the island to visit old friends and grab a bite to eat, your intrepid travelers repair to the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue to take in the latest shows. On display are George Bellows, Matisse – In Search of True Painting, Extravagant Inventions – The Princely Furniture of the Roentgens and Faking It – Manipulated Photography Before Photoshop.
42 Kids - George Bellows (1907)
My favorite has to be the Bellows. His work is so American in its nature, so egalitarian, accessible, visceral, genuine. This retrospective is satisfying and complete feeling, but at 120 paintings, not too excessive. From the first, 42 Kids (1907), showing the children of immigrants swimming in the East River, to the final portraits painted before his early death, this collection shows the work of George Wesley Bellows (1881 – 1925) in its fullness. A member of the “Ashcan School” of American Realist painters, and associated with Robert Henri’s “The Eight,” Bellows expressed his leftist, populist leanings in his work, which often focused on the impoverished immigrant population of New York.
Stag At Sharkeys - George Bellows (1909)
He is perhaps best known for his boxing paintings, including the seminal work, Stag At Sharkeys (1909), as well as Both Members Of This Club (1909) and Dempsey And Firpo (1924 – painted for Look Magazine), but Bellows also painted broadly of the scenery and characters of New York — from fishermen and dock workers to the excavation of Pennsylvania Station — and portraits of family, friends and patrons.
New York - George Bellows (1911)
Matisse, on the other hand, never went in much for realism, but sought in abstraction and impression the truest representations of his subjects, be they people, plants or still life. In this exhibit, especially, Matisse’s explorations and experimentation with different representational forms is put before us at once. We see as he studies a subject, and tries different approaches to find the best, or some best, way to depict it. At times we may see 4 or 5 studies of the same subject, abstract, boldly impressionistic, even realistic. I have seen so many Matisse exhibitions at this point — starting with the exhaustive (and exhausting) MoMA retrospective from 1991 (440 pieces) that there is little of his work which I haven’t seen at least several times, but here, at least, we are told a different story about how he settled on the path he did. Well curated, to say the least.
Still Life with Purro I - Henri Matisse (1904)
Still Life with Purro II - Henri Matisse (1904-5)
The furniture of the Roentgen’s is peculiar and certainly of its time. For roughly 60 years, from 1742 in to the beginning of the 19th century, the cabinet making firm of Abraham Roentgen and his son David turned out some of the most ingenious, extravagant and beautiful desks, curious, tables and clocks. A hallmark of their work, in addition to expert joinery and unbelievable inlays, was clever mechanisms. Hidden cubbies, secret lockers, counter-balanced mechanical systems are everywhere. A desk becomes a backgammon table becomes a chess board becomes a card table. A roll top desk has dozens of secret places to store everything from papers to inks and pens. A touch of a hidden button or turn of a key reveals an entire raft of drawers and lined compartments. Astonishing!
Roentgen writing desk
Finally, the Pre-Photoshop days of trick photography are amply explored in Faking It. I didn’t find much new in this exhibit, but it was well laid out and accompanied by some informative text. Nowhere near as exciting as the Bellows though!
Now down to TKTS and some half-price tickets for the evening’s entertainment. Armed with a choice of three shows, we ended up with Peter And The Starcatcher at the Books Atkinson. Closing January 20th, we are glad we got into this 2011 Tony Award winner. The play, by Rick Elice, is based upon a novel by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, and seeks to be a prequel to the Peter Pan stories. It is a raucous production, deeply rooted in Vaudeville, and with frequent direct-to-the-audience mugging and exposition. Where to start?
Proscenium Arch by Donyale Werle
The proscenium arch would be a good place. Before curtain, we are delighted with the elaborate assemblage upon the arch, kitchen implements and other ephemera make mermaids and all sort of curlicue and decoration. The set seems to be a dock, or is it a vessel? Once the action commences we quickly get the gist of the story: Lord Aster and his daughter Molly are to set sail on a pair of ships to spirit star dust safely away, but something goes wrong. They are separated and after a failed attempt at piracy, the star dust is set adrift with an enslaved stow away. Too much action ensues to explain it here, and you can always read the book if you’re interested, but the point of the whole enterprise is that these enslaved boys wind up as the Lost Boys, the island they all wash up on ends up as Neverland and all of the various people and events necessary to set up the Peter Pan story are more or less in place by the end of two acts.
Peter And The Starcatcher
But getting there is the fun part. The set is inventive, flexible and fun. The lighting effective, the costuming a lark. The performances are all so energized, you’d swear these folks are having the time of their lives, and it shows! After intermission we are treated to a very bawdy Vaudeville-esque song and dance performance featuring the entire cast in drag, which is just a delight!
Post-Interval song and dance
Finally too the 1 down to the Village to pop into the Kettle Of Fish on Sheridan Square and a visit with the proprietors, Patrick and Adrian. I’ve been a fan of the Kettle ever since a Green Bay Packers game back in 2001, during a visit to the city, sent me in search of a place to watch. Patrick is a old Milwaukean, having worked selling hardware at the old Oriental Hardware Store before leaving for New York, some 30+ years ago, and the Kettle is now known far and wide as the place to watch the Packers when you’re in New York. I watched part of the Packers’ wild-card playoff game here last Saturday, and now Patrick and Adrian invite me back to sit at the “Round Table” for the upcoming game against the San Francisco 49ers. I’ll be there!