LongBeachCulture.org CenterStage Blog

By Greggory Moore

The Museum of Latin American Art’s first-ever theatrical event was business as usual for Alive Theatre, who in their short existence have formed a habit of making non-traditional venues fit to their purposes, purposes that have ranged from the high literary to burlesque and camp. On March 29 it was José Rivera’s References to Salvador Dali Make Me Hot, a bit of minor-key magic realism that unfolded without a hitch in MOLAA’s outdoor sculpture garden.

Dali centers around the intermixed dreaming and wakefulness of Gabriela, a 26-year-old army wife who wonders if the husband with whom she once marveled at the moon is the same as the Benito who will return the next day from a year-long tour of duty in the (first) Gulf War, or if life as he has known it has purged from him all sense of metaphor and wonder. Helping Gabriela (and us) explore dialectics such as spirit/flesh, intimate/estranged, secret/open, and feral/tame are her housecat and a coyote, a 14-year-old peeping Martin, and the moon himself (who plays a mean violin). With Dali, Rivera (best known for his Academy Award-nominated screenplay of The Motorcycle Diaries) serves up work that probably owes more to the North-American Beat movement than to the Latin-American Boom, as often what his prose evokes is far more important than what it directly communicates — a state of affairs particularly salient to Gabriela’s internal landscape, where real meaning lies beyond simple actuality. “Everyone dreams,” she says. “It’s only human” — but these dreams are the moon’s report to you as a witness of your life, a report given so that humans have a chance in this desert of a world.

It is almost surprising that MOLAA had never featured a play, as the sculpture garden, with its concrete stage and plethora of good seating (with heat lamps!), seems custom-made for such an endeavor. Another near-surprise is the choice of Dali for its inaugural production, as the nationality of the author (Puerto Rican) is the only real Latin-American tie-in. Yes, Gabriela, Benito, and Martin are Latino, but this fact is completely irrelevant to the story. (Of course there’s no reason Latino characters must be featured dealing with Latino issues; the play certainly doesn’t suffer because these do not.)

What is not at all surprising is the quality of the acting, as Alive Theatre’s most consistent achievement to date is casting the talent to the role. Here, the cat-coyote pair of Alexis Ehrman and Anderson William execute their supporting turns with the vigor of leads, while Ali Sohaili (Martin) steals just about every scene he’s in. Meanwhile, Angela Lopez’s Gabriela is just as believable when she treads the realm of the incredible as when she is confronting the harsh light of day. But perhaps most impressive Angel Correa, who plays each side of his dual role as Benito and the moon expertly enough to make your suspension of disbelief easy, by turns funny and pathetic, crude and debonair, overheated and cold. Beyond their individual achievements, the cast as a whole gels perfectly, properly bringing to life a script that could easily get lost in translation. Clearly much credit here goes to Xiomara Cornejo, whose strong direction also comes through in the blocking and rhythmic interplay of the actors.

It is a shame that Alive Theatre’s References to Salvador Dali Make Me Hot at MOLAA will be performed only once more (April 10, 8 p.m.), as it is hard to imagine the combination of the script, venue, and execution not winning enough good buzz to make for a strong run. But there’s not much that’s conventional about the production, so why should this any be different?

For more information, visit alivetheatre.org or molaa.org.

By Greggory Moore

If you happened to check out both the Gazette and OC Weekly reviews of Alive Theatre’s 28 Plays Later, you’re probably very confused. As the Gazette has it, this is maybe the single greatest theatre experience ever, while the OC Weekly wants to warn you off of wasting precious minutes of your life on absolute garbage. Well, never mind them both. What Alive Theatre is doing for one more Sunday at Koos is simple: it’s vaudeville for the 21st century.

Over the course of a frenetic hour-and-a-half, Alive Theatre move through dozens of skits (“plays” is a misnomer; the title sees to have just been slapped on), many of which involve music (supplied by a live band), all of which are unabashedly silly. The writing is inconsequential, to be sure, but because this is all about the performance, that fact is inconsequential is itself inconsequential. Maybe the only objective prerequisite for vaudeville is that the performers sell it. Well, there can be no doubt that Alive sell every moment, expending enough energy for each performance to qualify as a workout. The performers also play heavily to the audience, not so much breaking the fourth wall as making sure it’s never erected; the result is that audience members feel free — hell, they’re encouraged — to react as loudly and intrusively as they want…you know, like vaudeville.

Go to Koos (koos.org) on Sunday (8 p.m.) desirous of a traditional theatre experience, and you are certain to be disappointed. But if you’re interested in seeking out the kind of show that advertises itself as “a shit ton of fun in a wee bit of time,” you might find it’s money well spent. I did not get the impression that anyone at the performance I saw will be asking Alive Theatre (alivetheatre.org) for a refund of their 10 bucks.

By Greggory Moore
(originally published in The District Weekly — www.thedistrictweekly.com)

If you are turned off by fictional reweavings of true events, and if on top of that you cut your literary teeth on James Joyce and consider Samuel Beckett a personal hero, aside from running the risk of being accused of pretentious snob, you might attend a fledging theatre group’s production of Lucia Mad with trepidation. But if it’s Alive Theatre’s version of this Don Nigro play about Joyce’s disturbed daughter and her unrequited love for Beckett, fear not!

Lucia is perforce her father’s woman-child: myriad-minded, sardonic, simultaneously brooding and full of life, idiosyncratic as all get-out, and never, ever able to get comfortable in her own skin. And despite the literary giants sharing the stage, Lucia Mad is she. The framing device of the play is one of access to the labyrinth of her mind via a seamless interweaving of fourth-wall-breaking narrative and episodic drama (or comedy, as the case may be), moving us through the avenues of her 20s much as Joyce moves us through the streets of Dublin in Ulysses. Early in that odyssey Lucia encounters Beckett—shy, ill-at-ease, brilliant . . . What better siren to attract James Joyce’s daughter? Nigro runs apace with this premise—the bare bones of which are true—presenting us with a tale of how all the intelligence in the world cannot save you from the Scylla and Charybdis of your unrealizable hopes and the delimited creature you must always be. James, Samuel, Lucia—by their natures, all must end in failure; and Lucia is left to fantasize herself as a reverse-muse, his “agenbite of inwit” (i.e., remorse of conscience—a phrase from her father’s masterwork) over having denied haunting/inspiring Beckett’s lifework. And maybe, just maybe, it did.

Alive Theatre is an itinerant company making its bones staging off-center theatre in unique spaces. Last time it was a cabaret on Duke’s Riverboat Restaurant in Rainbow Harbor. Now they’re exploiting that great space locals know as “the Dome Room” (i.e., the one-time hotel ballroom of the Lafayette) not so much for its acoustic properties but for the opportunity it provides to create a “stage” that is an unusual combination of height, depth, breadth, and intimacy, spaciously accommodating a multifaceted set containing the Joyce home, a Paris café, the later Beckett’s den, a hospital, a courtroom, and an asylum. Director Craig Fleming has blocked the production so that his actors are often in motion—sometimes quite vigorously—allowing for a theatergoing experience that is a true immersion in the story. Another triumph is the lighting, a combination of backstage-controlled overheads and functional parts of the set manipulated by the actors. The result keeps the play interesting to look at, the hues and shadows always casting just the right mood.

All of this, though, might be reduced to gimmickry or style over substance if it weren’t for the performances, all of which are outstanding. In the title role, Jill Taylor employs her dancer’s body to display a freneticism that mirror’s Lucia’s inner turmoil, at once comely and funny and heartbreakingly disturbed. She keeps her “madness” grounded and somewhat familiar—the kind of thing most of us can relate to, at least a little bit—instead of playing a “crazy” type. But in some sense the trickiest roles are Joyce and Beckett (Rory Cowan and Chris Batstone, respectively), since almost anyone in attendance will have at least some conception (whether accurate or not) of who these celebrated figures “really” were—and because Nigro has intentionally written them a bit too talky to be true-to-life. But Cowan and Batstone own their roles, and so in the end you accept these characters as flesh-and-blood men and not merely placeholders for history. Danielle Dauphinee (wife/mother Nora Joyce) and Ryan McClary (a double-role as Thomas McGreevey and Carl Jung) do exactly what the script calls for them to do, having their moments while letting the larger characters do the heavy lifting. And Aaron Von Geem is a scene-stealer both as a Paris pimp and a deluded “Napoleon,” getting effective double-duty out of an exaggeratedly poncy French accent.

It all comes together because these people know their play. In real life Joyce is the most ridiculous brilliant writer in history, and Nigro isn’t the first to have fun at his expense (Tom Stoppard zings him in Travesties); yet, in a hilarious scene where Cowan’s Joyce sententiously dictates some silly tripe of his “Work in Progress” (eventually, Finnegans Wake), he sounds both sincere and like he knows whereof he speaks. Nigro grasps his subjects (well, save Jung, who sounds created by someone who’s both never read Jung and seen analysis only on sitcom TV), and Fleming sees what Nigro intends, imparting this understanding to his actors so that they know who they are. We’ve all been to bad Shakespeare, where it’s clear everyone onstage is just mouthing the words and wearing silly costumes; nothing like that is afoot here. Go to Lucia Mad, yes I say yes you should Yes.

LUCIA MAD // ALIVE THEATRE // THE DOME ROOM @ THE LAFAYETTE // 528 E BROADWAY AVE // LONG BEACH 90802 510.415.5569 // FRI-SAT 8PM + 4PM SUN, JUNE 22 // $15-18 (PAY WHAT YOU CAN JUNE 21) // THROUGH JUNE 29 // WWW.ALIVETHEATRE.ORG

by Greggory Moore

Here’s yet another installment in the effort to keep you (whomever you are) informed about the kind of thing that goes down in the southern portion of our fair city (or at {open}, at least; I don’t seem to take in a lot of music elsewhere).

First up was Pwrfl Power, a young Japanese singer/songwriter who strapped a capo across the fretboard of his 3/4-sized guitar and skillfully and feelingly fingerpicked and -strummed his way through a set of sentimental upbeat ballads that ebbed and flowed smoothly.

Things took a stylistic turn — and I mean one of about 170 degrees — with the next act, Capillary Action, a three-piece of guitar, drums, and keys. I know it’s often considered a journalistic copout to structure a description as I’m about to do, but I can think of nothing more apt than to say that they sound like a cross between Frank Zappa & the Mothers of Invention and Naked City. The band exhibited tight chops as they moved through their two long and ever-abruptly-changing oddball aggressiveness.

Last up was the guitar/drums duo I Heart Lung. I’ve seen them many times over the past three years, and I am always surprised that this type of combo can pull off something I enjoy. In fact, I like them better and better over time, as what I recall as something closer to (but definitely not) straight-ahead jazz leanings seems to have given way a bit to digitally-delayed layers of guitar that roll over pulsing textures of drum rhythms to create something that the Grateful Dead might have sounded like if they’d been stripped down, sans vocals, and hybridized with The Cure’s layers of repetition.

This show was presented by soundsareactive.com; and each act has an individual MySpace site (myspace.com/________). As always, you can keep abreast of the goings-on at {open} at thestoryofopen.com.

To all concerned with Long Beach Opera’s production of Ricky Ian Gordon’s “Orpheus and Euridice”:

Greetings.

I attended the February 19, 2008, performance “Orpheus and Euridice”. Let me blow right past a heartfelt but admittedly generic “Bravo!” and mention a small number of the specific things for which I’d like to commend you:

*The score itself is a redoubtable piece of music, evoking the same sort of dark emotionality that I hear in the works of Henryk Górecki. I found “Song” in particular especially transporting (but this was merely a highlight among highlights).

*While I’ve not heard the piece without strings, the addition of them for this commission seems too organic be dubbed “addition,” meshing as they do with the musical fabric. E.g., the wavering musical reification of wind at the end of “Bliss” (“Where they moved, the breezes whispered thereafter”).

*The conception and staging were wonderfully realized, from the lighting choices (in terms of both the angles and color combinations) to the blocking (I know I’ve never seen anything quite like this) to details like the creep of the fog across and up off the water.

*The sound mix was pristine. One concern Ricky voiced when I interviewed him (which was after only an initial rehearsal) for the Gazette was that the sound (or at least its clarity) might get swallowed up in a space as cavernous and designed vis-à-vis acoustics as is the Belmont Plaza Olympic Pool. Clearly, whatever obstacles the venue presented were masterfully overcome.

*The entire cast seemed to execute their respective roles expertly—and in this I of course include Elizabeth Futral and Todd Palmer. I lack erudition concerning the technical details related to being either or a coloratura soprano or a clarinetist; all I can say here is that it was breathtaking be in such proximity to that kind of controlled emotiveness.

Again, congratulations on the vision to create and stage such a piece and the ability to do it so well. I only regret that I do not have a wider audience with whom I can share these sentiments, because it was a privilege to attend such an event, a privilege I’d like as many as possible to get to enjoy.

Very sincerely,
Greggory Moore

By Greggory Moore

For three nights in February, Long Beach Opera is mounting a bold production of Ricky Ian Gordon’s Orpheus and Euridice at the Belmont Plaza Olympic Pool.

Recently arrived from his native New York and sitting in a Sunset Beach diner, Gordon quotes from the libretto and reflects on the circumstances surrounding the opera’s composition:

“‘As she slept, he wept bitterly, and dearly / Growing more and more bereft as, in increments, she left.’ That was sort of it; that was my life at the time: every day, something different would happen to Jeffrey that would say, ‘I am going away.’”

In 1995, Jeffrey Grossi was dying of AIDS, and Gordon was his primary caretaker. Among a long list of difficulties was a shortage of money — and so when clarinetist Todd Palmer commissioned him to write a short piece, Gordon did not feel he could turn it down.

But the overwhelmed Gordon eventually had to report that he did not believe he was up to delivering what Palmer had asked for. Then, at 4 a.m. that very night, Gordon suddenly awoke “in a fever” with an image of Palmer as Orpheus with his clarinet as the classical Orpheus’s lyre.

“I ran to the dining room table and wrote the text in an hour,” he recalls. Sensing a strange energy, at 5 a.m. Grossi was awake, and Gordon read him the already-completed text.

“There’s a notion that a myth lives inside of you subconsciously, and then at a certain point where your own story becomes too difficult to tell, the myth transposes itself onto you so that you can tell your story. That is exactly what happened,” Gordon explains. “I needed to tell the story of what was happening to Jeffrey and me at that moment. Then all of a sudden: Orpheus and Euridice.”

Gordon reports that it wasn’t just the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice that informs his version (the Y changed to I to indicate the personal nature of his take, as does the fact that his Euridice dies from a virus) but the classic film version Black Orpheus, which ends on something of a hopeful note, despite the lovers’ fate.

“Orpheus is torn apart, but ‘Down the river floats his head / From which, it is said, music never ceases,’” Gordon notes. “The beauty that comes out of loss and grief is that some people are inspired to say something about it. And very often those are the most beautiful pieces ever created.”

Starting off life as a song cycle, Orpheus and Euridice has been ever-evolving over the last decade, with a 2005 version staged at Lincoln Center winning an OBIE Award.

It was a recording of that version released on Ghostlight Records last year that caught the attention of Andreas Mitisek, LBO’s artistic and general director; and while in his native Austria he approached soprano Elizabeth Futral, who had sung the piece at Lincoln Center, with his vision of the piece, which included adding strings and staging it with water.

Thus was born the spectacle to be staged at the Belmont Plaza pool, which LBO promises “will be transformed into the Earth, the River Styx, and the Underworld in a multimedia vision of one of the world’s greatest love stories.”

Gordon gives a lot of the credit for all that has transpired to Palmer.

“A lot of instrumentalists don’t take the initiative to have works created for them; often they don’t have enough self-esteem,” he says. “It hallows Todd and what he does.”

For his part, Palmer couldn’t be more pleased about what his relatively modest original request has begotten.

“I never expected any of this,” he says. “It’s become one of the most substantial works for clarinet that there is. I just wanted a little song. This just shows you the power of creativity.”

The pair hopes for great things from this production and would eventually like to see a new recording of this version.

“I have this feeling it’s going to be magical to add (strings), especially with these acoustics,” Gordon says. “Something really special could happen there … something magical and unique that couldn’t happen anywhere else.”

They note that staging an opera at a natatorium is artistically risky and credit Mitisek and LBO for having the fortitude to take that risk.

“(LBO) does smaller works and reimagines them — and (doesn’t try to) be L.A. Opera, or Opera Pacific but to take their place as their own kind of opera house,” Gordon says. “How great to take that kind of risk. That’s what theater should be. It’s dangerous. At this point, seeing that live performance competes with reality TV and porno on the Web and 10 million other things that most people find more interesting, if it’s not risky, why do it?”

Here Gordon smiles excitedly: “But this is risky and interesting and unique — and worth coming out of your house for.”

Long Beach Opera’s production of Ricky Ian Gordon’s Orpheus and Euridice, starring Todd Palmer and Elizabeth Futral, will be performed 8 p.m. February 17–19 at the Belmont Plaza Olympic Pool (4000 Olympic Plaza), with free opera talks one hour before the performances. For tickets and information, call (562) 432-2580 or visit www.longbeachopera.org.

*Note: This article was originally published (in an abbreviated form) in the Gazette newspapers.

By Greggory Moore

Two of my favorite Long Beach bands played within days and feet of each other last week: on Tuesday The Year Zero played at {open}, then on Saturday oto played at Portfolio.

As far as I know, The Year Zero have played as everything from a duo to a quintet; and Tuesday was the first time I have seen them as the latter with two guitars and no keyboards. I must say, while I enjoy the keyboards on their album, Oceania, I Will Return, it was very nice hearing the two-guitar configuration, as the effect-heavy buzz of the lead lines was a nice layer to the guitar/bass/drums foundation of the band’s Pixies-gone-gentle songs. It takes literally no imagination to picture (aurally, I suppose) The Year Zero on a station like KROQ, so what you get when they play somewhere like {open} is a radio-ready quasi-pop alternative band at a venue whose intimacy doesn’t reflect the quality—or potential mass appeal—of the music. And the sound mix was right on. Check the band out at theyearzero.com and the venue at thestoryofopen.com.

It seems that everyone who hears oto remembers them. Their airy, mostly-instrumental musical interludes are both original and accessible enough that it will be sad and shocking if they never get picked up nationally and even internationally. (Think a stripped-down, less grand-sounding, more syncopated Sigur Ros with a Far Eastern twang.) They’re still quite early in their recording career (to date they have some EPs but no full-length), but their sets never contain filler—and if anything sometimes seem too short. (I don’t think they did 20 minutes the first time I saw them—and it wasn’t like there were other bands on the bill!) Saturday was just about right, although my one complaint is that they were a bit too loud (for the back room, anyway; in the front room it was fine). But this is the only time I’ve had this complaint about them—so don’t feel compelled to bring earplugs when you see them live . . . which you can do by following their progress through this world at otosound.net (where you can also get free samples and downloads).

by Sander Roscoe Wolff

Lili de la Mora will be performing with The Year Zero at {open} at 9 PM on Tuesday, January 29th. Sharing the bill is Katie The Pest, and Yellow Fever from Texas. On the 31st they’ll be playing at The Prospector with Forcefield On and Two Guns.

Over the course of several days, Lili and I talked about her many projects, including a collaboration with Belgian artist Arne Van Petegem (aka Styrofoam) which will see a Spring release on the Nettwerk label, plans for a new instrumental group called “The Fragile Shell of the Psychic Temple of the Holy Kiss,” and her ongoing work with Rodney Sellars in The Year Zero.

Her new CD release, titled Eleven Continents, is a collaboration with Ryan Francesconi (aka RF). Recorded and mixed by long-time musical cohort Ken Negrete, it features amazingly focused acoustic guitar, harp from Joanna Newsom, strings, horns, and Lili’s beautiful, gentle singing. I asked her first about the title of the CD.

Lili: My birthday is 1/11, which I guess started my obsession with the number eleven, hence Eleven Continents. I was thinking of the recognized ones, a few legendary ones no longer with us, and some imaginary worlds I travel to, ones yet to be discovered.

Sander: How many continents have you visited?

Lili: Just this one. After March it will be 2. We booked the flights yesterday. We’re leaving on March 11th for Japan.

Sander: Wow, that’s super exciting. Who is going?

Lili: Myself, and Ryan (RF). We will be playing 6 or 7 shows in 10 days. I’m really excited. We will be traveling to at least 5 cities. Tokyo is the first stop. Our label in Japan, P-Vine, is based there. Then Nagoya, Kyoto, and Osaka so far. I’d better start working on learning some of the language!

Sander: Can you talk about how the album project came together?

Lili: Well, Ryan Francesconi and I became friends online first. We both liked each other’s music, and he asked if I would like to collaborate on a song with him. That pretty much got the ball rolling.

I sent him a few rough recordings of some of my acoustic songs and he sent me some acoustic guitar pieces he had written for me to write lyrics and melodies to. A lot of times we were both listening from our respective homes, speaking on AIM, and pressing play at the same time. [laughs] It was a lot of fun. Some of the songs evolved from some of our conversations. Ryan is very hard working and is involved in all aspects of his music. This was very inspiring to me. When we had enough songs he came to Long Beach to meet me and my friends Ken and Fabiola.

Sander: Where did he come from?

Lili: He lives in Berkeley. Ryan came down to Long Beach and recorded his guitar parts, and then I worked with Ken on the vocals. Fabiola, his wife and partner in the band Familiar Trees, sang some harmonies.

(more…)

…and You Missed It

By Greggory Moore

I had never heard of Jonathan Richman—by name, anyway (see below)—and dropped by {open} on December 1 really just to say hello. The show had begun promptly at (or near) its scheduled 8 p.m. start time and was already underway as I stepped through the door. Although I couldn’t see the small stage for the packed house in front of me, Richman was up there on vocals and acoustic guitar and Tommy Larkins was on drums. In a fine voice reminiscent of David Byrne’s, Richman voiced tales whose structure was informed by Lou Reed, and his loose flamenco guitar style (occasionally flavored with a tasteful slapback echo) was neatly rounded out by Larkins’s delicate, tom-accented pounding and bossa-nova rim work. The unvarying song formula and delivery is just what everyone in the room wanted, and the infectiousness of the music, its fluid grooves and melodies, had us all dancing in place a bit. So successful was the audio fare that the unassuming duo to pause between songs longer than they might have liked to wait for the protracted rounds of applause to die down (a few of which took place even before the songs had actually concluded). It’s relatively safe to say that those who weren’t already fans when the Richman and Larkins took the stage were by the time the show was over.

As it turns out, among millions of others, I had been exposed to Richman and Larkins in There’s Something About Mary: they are troubadour duo acting as the Farrelly Brothers’ version of a Greek chorus. But while they perform that job admirably, that role doesn’t allow them to shine as they do offscreen. A wide, wide array of recorded music is available for your sampling pleasure, as Richman has released well over a dozen albums (some with The Modern Lovers, whose songs have been covered by the luminous likes of The Sex Pistols and David Bowie) since the mid 1970s. You can also find him featured on the Vapor Records Website (www.vaporrecords.com) and a MySpace page with a less-than memorable address (www.myspace.com/68422248).

There’s no reason NOT to be on {open}’s mailing list so as to keep abreast of the great music (among other events) that always seem to be coming through there—so go to www.thestoryofopen.com and get with the program.

A conversation with Hooray for Humans founders Robert Garza, Bryan Schnelle, and Michael Wysong.

by Sander Roscoe Wolff

Hooray for Humans is a Long Beach based art collective, created by Robert Garza, Bryan Schnelle, and Michael Wysong. What started as a simple plan to document informal conversations that first evolved into podcast interviews with local artists, has culminated into an audacious and ambitious plan to bring some of the world’s hottest artists to Long Beach. Heavy Metal Vomit Party, taking place from 7-11 PM on Saturday, November 10th at Koo’s Art Center, will include works by 15 local and established artists. The stars, however, are Shepard Fairey, Andrew Jeffrey Wright, and skullphone.

LBC: Tell me about this next event… Heavy Metal Vomit Party? Who chose that name?

(more…)