IS THE HAND QUICKER THAN THE ZOOM WINDOW? ·

(The post appeared first in The New York Times, 5/15; photo: The New York Times; via Pam Green.)

Before my scheduled preview performance of “The Present,” a new show from the Geffen Playhouse (rebranded as Geffen Stayhouse) in Los Angeles, I received — via FedEx, after a failed delivery from the Postal Service and a series of increasingly panicked emails — a letter with strict instructions. I was to download Zoom and join a meeting 15 minutes before showtime. There would be, bold type informed me, “no late seating.”

On Wednesday, just shy of 11 p.m. (the perils of seeing a California show on New York time), an enthusiastic stage manager checked me in and I took my seat — a rickety Ikea chair in kicking distance of a teetering pile of laundry. My husband sat nearby on the edge of an unmade bed strewn with children’s toys. I had meant to pour a glass of wine, but we’d emptied the last bottle days ago.

“The Present,” created by the Portuguese conjurer Helder Guimarães, is a magic show, and I struggle to imagine a setting and sobriety level less conducive to enchantment. But this is a pandemic. As with bandanna masks and homemade hand sanitizer, we make do.

David Copperfield disappearing the Statue of Liberty and the peculiar success of Criss Angel notwithstanding, magic has always struck me as particularly dependent on liveness — a duel between the nothing-up-my-sleeves hand and the watchful, untrained eye. Put a camera between them, and the odds no longer seem fair. (Video sequences in live shows can feel miscalculated, too, a wrongheaded attempt to scale up what should be intimate, a tryst dressed up as an orgy.)

But last year, while researching the psychological illusionist Derren Brown, I lost several nights, happily, to his old TV series. And routines by the card assassin Ricky Jay — that watermelon! — bear watching on repeat. Knowing remote prestidigitation could work, I spent the two weeks after booking my ticket to “The Present” lurking and squinting and nervously participating online and on the phone, exploring how. The magic word of the moment? Your Wi-Fi login.

I began with Noah Levine, a familiar face beneath a quarantine beard. In “the before” (is that what we’re calling it?), I had twice seen his “Magic After Hours” show at Tannen’s Magic. With the help of the Atlas Obscura and Airbnb platforms, he has now developed “Backstage With a Magician,” in which he promises to perform tricks from his “secret lair,” which looks a lot like a Brooklyn apartment. At showtime, he greeted us in front of a credibility bookcase — “Gravity’s Rainbow,” manuals on card and coin magic, a crystal ball. He has taken to wearing a Nehru jacket. We cope however we can.

(Read more)

IGOR LEVIT IS LIKE NO OTHER PIANIST ·

(Alex Ross’s article appeared in The New Yorker, 5/11.)

He’s a political activist. His repertory is vast. And, during Germany’s shutdown, he streamed more than fifty performances from home. It’s made him question what a concert can be.

On March 10th, the German pianist Igor Levit played Beethoven’s Third and Fifth Piano Concertos at the Elbphilharmonie, the hulking concert complex in Hamburg. It was his thirty-third birthday and, it turned out, his last public concert for many weeks. The next day, Angela Merkel, the German Chancellor, delivered a dire warning about the scope of the looming coronavirus pandemic, and performance spaces began closing across the country. At the time, Levit had a full schedule before him. He had recently issued a boxed-set recording of Beethoven’s thirty-two piano sonatas, and was playing Beethoven cycles in several European cities. He was also preparing to tackle an arcane colossus of the piano literature—the seventy-minute Piano Concerto by the early-twentieth-century composer-virtuoso Ferruccio Busoni, a hero of his.

“That next day, the eleventh, was kind of a shock day,” Levit told me recently, in a video call from his apartment, in Berlin. “On the twelfth, I was shopping in a grocery store, and I had this thought: What if I live-streamed a gig?” He peered into his phone with a grin. He is a trim young man with sharp features, a high Mahlerian hairline, and a thin growth of beard. He was wearing a T-shirt that read “Love Music Hate Racism.” He speaks rapidly and incisively, his English nearly as good as his German. Sometimes he seems more mature than his years, poised and oracular; at others, he comes across as an antic, restless member of his digital-native generation.

Levit went on, “When I got home, I did what I usually do, which is to throw a thought into the public arena without thinking about any consequences. I went on Twitter and said, ‘O.K., I’m going to play for you guys tonight at my place.’ After having tweeted that, I realized, Hang on—I’ve never streamed anything, I know shit about streaming, I don’t even know if Twitter allows thirty minutes of streaming, I have no camera stand. I had a total panic. I was sending messages to friends: ‘Do you know how streaming works?’ And this tweet was already out there. It was a catastrophe. I ran to the last electronics store that was still open, and got some stuff for twenty-four euros.”

I saw Levit’s tweet and tuned in. The setting was familiar, because I had met with him there the previous summer. He lives in a spacious, airy, sparely decorated apartment in the Mitte neighborhood of Berlin, with plate-glass windows overlooking a park. His instrument is a 1923 Steinway B that once belonged to the great Swiss pianist Edwin Fischer. At 7 p.m., Levit pressed the Record button on his smartphone and trotted in front of his newly acquired home-Webcasting equipment, dressed casually in a black-and-gray pullover shirt and black pants. He gave a brief introduction, in German and English: “It’s a sad time, it’s a weird time, but acting is better than doing nothing. Let’s bring the house concert into the twenty-first century.” He then tore into Beethoven’s “Waldstein” Sonata, in a fashion typical of him—precipitate, purposeful, intricately nuanced. It was an imposing structure aglow with feeling.

Other pianists of Levit’s generation may have achieved wider mass-market fame—Lang Lang and Yuja Wang come first to mind—but none have comparable stature as a cultural or even a political figure. In German-speaking countries, Levit is a familiar face not only to classical-music fans but also to a broader population that shares his leftist, internationalist world view. He has appeared on mainstream German TV shows; participated in political panel discussions; and attended the annual gathering of the Green Party, playing Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” the anthem of the European Union. It was no surprise that Levit’s inaugural live stream attracted attention, though I was taken aback when the number of viewers climbed into the tens of thousands.

In the following weeks, as Levit kept Webcasting each night, a convivial online community formed around him on Twitter and its Periscope app—a self-described “Igor Familie.” Periscope includes a chat-room sidebar, with hearts floating up the screen like bubbles. Most comments were in German, but there were salutations from Nairobi, Tokyo, and Montevideo. Some viewers made musicological points—“New harmonic structures become transparent,” one person wrote when Levit tackled Brahms’s arrangement of the Bach Chaconne in D Minor—while others discussed the pianist’s facial hair, T-shirts, and footwear. “Hard rock fan from Düsseldorf is thrilled,” one commenter said. Levit delivered short talks, usually focussed on the music at hand. He never spoke at the end, though emotion sometimes surfaced. Once, halfway through Schubert’s sublime Sonata in B-flat, he buried his head in his hands, hiding tears; he did the same after Morton Feldman’s solitary, unearthly “Palais de Mari.”

(Read more)

BERLINER ENSEMBLE: “MOTHER COURAGE AND HER CHILDREN” WITH HELENE WEIGEL, “AN UNMISSABLE OPPORTUNITY”–UK GUARDIAN ·

STREAMING FROM FRIDAY FOR A WEEK: BERLINER ENSEMBLE–“MOTHER COURAGE AND HER CHILDREN” WITH HELENE WEIGEL, FROM 1957  

View

Stay at home – BE at home: While the doors of the Berlin ensemble must remain closed to our audience, we provide you with a recording of a repertoire or historically significant staging as an online stream once a week. The stream of the week is always available from Fridays and then for a week.

We are very pleased that we can now show you, in collaboration with the Bertolt Brecht Archive of the Academy of the Arts, a recording of Bertolt Brechts and Erich Engels’ staging of “Mother Courage and Her Children” with Helene Weigel from 1957 (German audio only!). We can now make this staging, which is important in terms of theater history, accessible to a larger audience for the first time and thank the Bertolt Brecht heirs and Suhrkamp Verlag for this. The stream is available free of charge until midnight on May 21, 2020 at “BE at home”.

From May 22, 2020, 6:00 p.m., we will show a recording of Heiner Müller’s “Macbeth” in a production by Michael Thalheimer (with English Surtitles!).

Further digital offers from the Berlin Ensemble can be found at www.berliner-ensemble.de/be-at-home.

Photo: © Hainer Hill ©AdK, Berlin

 

Read more from Chris Wiegand in the Guardian:

Mother Courage

Achtung! Here’s an unmissable opportunity to catch a piece of German theatre history (though without English subtitles). The Berliner Ensemble is streaming a different production each week for its BE at Home programme, and from 15-22 May you can see Brecht’s classic play about the 30 years war in Europe. Legendary actor Helene Weigel, Brecht’s wife, plays the title role. Weigel played the part of the indomitable profiteer and matriarch more than 200 times in her career.

For further streaming events

 

Synopsis, from Wikipedia:

Mother Courage and Her Children

The play is set in the 17th century in Europe during the Thirty Years’ War. The Recruiting Officer and Sergeant are introduced, both complaining about the difficulty of recruiting soldiers to the war. Anna Fierling (Mother Courage) enters pulling a cart containing provisions for sale to soldiers, and introduces her children Eilif, Kattrin, and Schweizerkas (“Swiss Cheese”). The sergeant negotiates a deal with Mother Courage while Eilif is conscripted by the Recruiting Officer.

Two years thereafter, Mother Courage argues with a Protestant General’s cook over a capon, and Eilif is congratulated by the General for killing peasants and slaughtering their cattle. Eilif and his mother sing “The Fishwife and the Soldier”. Mother Courage scolds her son for endangering himself.

Three years later, Swiss Cheese works as an army paymaster. The camp prostitute, Yvette Pottier, sings “The Fraternization Song”. Mother Courage uses this song to warn Kattrin against involving herself with soldiers. Before the Catholic troops arrive, the Cook and Chaplain bring a message from Eilif. Swiss Cheese hides the regiment’s paybox from invading soldiers, and Mother Courage and companions change their insignia from Protestant to Catholic. Swiss Cheese is captured and tortured by the Catholics having hidden the paybox by the river. Mother Courage attempts bribery to free him, planning to pawn the wagon first and redeem it with the regiment money. When Swiss Cheese claims that he has thrown the box in the river, Mother Courage backtracks on the price, and Swiss Cheese is killed. Fearing to be shot as an accomplice, Mother Courage does not acknowledge his body, and it is discarded.

Later, Mother Courage waits outside the General’s tent to register a complaint and sings the “Song of Great Capitulation” to a young soldier anxious to complain of inadequate pay. The song persuades both to withdraw their complaints.

When Catholic General Tilly’s funeral approaches, the Chaplain tells Mother Courage that the war will still continue, and she is persuaded to pile up stocks. The Chaplain then suggests to Mother Courage that she marry him, but she rejects his proposal. Mother Courage curses the war because she finds Kattrin disfigured after being raped by a drunken soldier. Thereafter Mother Courage is again following the Protestant army.

Two peasants try to sell merchandise to her when they hear news of peace with the death of the Swedish king. The Cook appears and causes an argument between Mother Courage and the Chaplain. Mother Courage is off to the market while Eilif enters, dragged in by soldiers. Eilif is executed for killing a peasant while stealing livestock, trying to repeat the same act for which he was praised as hero in wartime, but Mother Courage never hears thereof. When she finds out the war continues, the Cook and Mother Courage move on with the wagon.

In the seventeenth year of the war, there is no food and no supplies. The Cook inherits an inn in Utrecht and suggests to Mother Courage that she operate it with him, but refuses to harbour Kattrin. Thereafter Mother Courage and Kattrin pull the wagon by themselves.

When Mother Courage is trading in the Protestant city of Halle, Kattrin is left with a peasant family in the countryside overnight. As Catholic soldiers force the peasants to guide the army to the city for a sneak attack, Kattrin fetches a drum from the cart and beats it, waking the townspeople, but is herself shot. Early in the morning, Mother Courage sings a lullaby to her daughter’s corpse, has the peasants bury it, and hitches herself to the cart.

LIVING THROUGH THE PLAGUE TIMES – EXCERPT: ‘DEATH BY SHAKESPEARE’ BY KATHRYN HARKUP ·

(Harkup’s excerpt appeared in Shakespeare & Beyond, 5/5; via Pam Green.)

View book on Amazon.

What would it have been like to live through the plague outbreaks of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries? And what insight does that give us into the mentions of plague in Shakespeare’s plays?

Kathryn Harkup has looked at the science behind literature from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to the mystery novels of Agatha Christie, and she turns her attention now to Shakespeare with a new book, Death By Shakespeare: Snakebites, Stabbings, and Broken Hearts. In it, she devotes a chapter to the plague, excerpted here.

There were at least five major outbreaks of bubonic plague in London during Shakespeare’s lifetime and though these outbreaks didn’t reach the devastation of the Black Death, they all had a major impact on the population, particularly in towns and more populated areas. Wealthier Londoners often took Chaucer’s advice, written during the Black Death, to ‘run fast and run far’. At that time there were few uninfected corners of Europe that you could run to. At least a quarter of Europe’s 75 million population died in the mid-fourteenth century.1 The plagues of the Renaissance were a different matter. Escaping the city during the fifteenth- and sixteenth-century outbreaks would have significantly improved a person’s chances of survival. Shakespeare was fortunate to have a house and family in Stratford that he could retreat to when plague appeared in London.

There was some recognition that plague was contagious, even if the mechanism was far from understood. Some suspected it was brought to London by foreigners. Others tried to blame outbreaks on an unusual alignment of the planets. The 1593 plague was blamed on the position of Saturn in the night sky ‘passing through the uttermost parts of Cancer and the beginning of Leo’ as it had done 30 years earlier when there had been another terrible outbreak. Shakespeare was certainly aware of the planetary theory, as in Timon of Athens the playwright has Timon urge Alcibiades to take revenge on Athens: ‘Be as a planetary plague, when Jove / Will o’er some high-viced city hang his poison / In the sick air’.

The mention of vice in the same passage acknowledges that many saw plague as punishment from God. It was just reward for the licentious living for which city dwellers were renowned. This position was difficult to maintain when priests, expected to visit the sick and dying and therefore especially susceptible to infection, suffered particularly high mortality rates from the disease. What was clear was that when one person died of plague others closely associated with the sick often became ill themselves.

(Read more)

LIFE SKETCHES (SHORT SCENES AND MONOLOGUES): “IN THE WOODS” (8)  ·

By Bob Shuman

SCENE: In the woods. A small clearing, off a parking lot–hardly more than a triangle where two parallel felled logs act as benches.

MARY JANE, early 70’s, sits on a log.  As at the dog run, using a launcher, SHE plays fetch with the dogs.

 CHRISTIE, late 50’s (male), is walking fast to catch up with JUNO, one of his two Jack Russell terriers (the other is Jasper) who has gotten out of her harness. Both JASPER and JUNO drag their leashes on the wet earth.  

Both MARY JANE and CHRISTIE wear gloves—CHRISTIE’s are surgical gloves.  CHRISTIE is also wearing a mask. MARY JANE leaves hers down—she only pulls it up when a stranger appears.

Beginning of May, still chilly and wet.

CHRISTIE: (About Juno.) Come on Jasper, help me get her.

MARY JANE: Did she go off?

CHRISTIE: Come on, Juno.  I’ve got to go get her. 

MARY JANE: Can you see her?

CHRISTIE:  Excuse, me I’ll be right back.

MARY JANE: I know someone who’s going to “prison.”

CHRISTIE:  Jasper, help me get her.

(Jasper runs with CHRISTIE to find Juno.)

MARY JANE: Lantern’s been a bad dog himself, running off.

CHRISTIE:  (Off.) Not too far.  Come on back, Juno.   Come  on.  Come back.  

(There is a clamor in the background.  Muted car horns and yells—shaking, pounding, rattling of kitchen utensils.)

CHRISTIE:  That’s it, that’s a good girl.  Thank you for listening.  That’s it.

MARY JANE: Lantern must be doing the loop.

CHRISTIE:  Let’s all go see Mary Jane.  Jasper, you come too.   (To MARY JANE.) Have they been sending people to the hospital ship?

MARY JANE: No, it was sent back—the ship wasn’t even half filled.  They were sending patients back to the nursing homes to infect others.

(Silence.)

CHRISTIE: (CHRISTIE makes a whooping sound for the hospital workers. About the clamor.) I think today’s Nurse Day.

MARY JANE: Nurse week.  Hello, Juno.

CHRISTIE:  (CHRISTIE gives another whoop, taking Juno to a tree branch.)  A sign was posted in our building about it.  I have to watch Juno because she can break out of her harness.

MARY JANE: Here she is.  Straight to “jail.”

CHRISTIE:  She was just like Dorothy, toodling down the yellow brick road. 

(Christie takes Juno to a tree branch of a fallen tree and loops the leash handle over it.)

MARY JANE: There’s one nurse, who walks her dog here in the woods.  She helped me, after I got out of the hospital seven years ago.  I had a sore on my back–I couldn’t reach it.  She came to my apartment and changed the bandage every other day,  so I wouldn’t have to go to a clinic.  She’s helping Covid patients now.

(Silence.)

MARY JANE: He’s been gone longer than fifteen minutes.  I don’t like it when he takes so long.

CHRISTIE:  (Calling.) Lantern! (To Jasper.)  Come on Jasper, stop bringing the ball to Mary Jane.  Bring it over here to me.

MARY JANE: I don’t mind.

CHRISTIE:  You might be tired of throwing it to him.

MARY JANE: What else would I be doing, since Juno’s been put in the “penitentiary”–and I don’t see Lantern? 

CHRISTIE:   (About Juno.) Juno was howling at something today.

MARY JANE: Probably critters.

CHRISTIE:   Junie, don’t pull on that harness too hard—she broke out of it on the way down here.

MARY JANE: (Calling.) Lantern!  His medication must be starting to work.

CHRISTIE: (Calling.)   Lantern! 

MARY JANE: This breed is supposed to live to fourteen years.  That’s why I bought him, because I knew he would be my last dog–but I don’t know if he’s going to make it much longer.  He’s eleven and a half.

CHRISTIE:   He gets his shots every two and a half weeks.

MARY JANE:  His arthritis is giving him a lot of pain.

(Silence.)

(CHRISTIE is playing fetch with Jasper.)

CHRISTIE:  (Recalling a previous conversation.) Wouldn’t the nurses be taxed anyway?

MARY JANE: Yes, in their own states, but this is in New York—we’re the ones who asked them to come help us. (Pause.) They should have protected the elderly first, but they didn’t know.  A 40-year-old can get over the symptoms in a few days.  

CHRISTIE: (Going to Junie, to look at her harness.) We’re going to have to get Junie a new harness—she can slip out of it, too.

MARY JANE: At my age if you wake up without something hurting you, you’re dead!

(CHRISTIE begins laughing.)

CHRISTIE: Did you hear about the llama?

MARY JANE: What was that about?  I saw something. In Belgium? 

CHRISTIE:  It’s this llama, in Belgium.   Named Winter.  In Ghent, Belgium.  She produces antibodies—two kinds of antibodies. 

MARY JANE:  I just saw the picture on the Web. Dark brown.

CHRISTIE:  Humans only have one antibody.   So this other one can stick to the virus.

MARY JANE:  I wondered why they were talking about a llama.

CHRISTIE:  This antibody gets into the spikes–you seen those pictures of the coronavirus? Those spikes?  And makes them . . . I guess it can wad up in there.

MARY JANE: At least they’re trying.

CHRISTIE:  Makes it less effective.  

(Silence.)

MARY JANE:  I looked up that show.  It was first made as a movie in 1943, with Roddy McDowall.

CHRISTIE:   My Friend Flicka.

MARY JANE:  It only lasted a season in the late Fifties.

CHRISTIE:   I knew there had to be a serious horse show.

MARY JANE:  1957.

CHRISTIE:   Mr. Ed was more popular—it was comic.

MARY JANE: (Imitating Mr. Ed.) “Will-burr.”

CHRISTIE:   (Suddenly.)  You watch it, Jasper.  I saw you try to eat that poop—you’ll be next (to go to jail). You stop that, you hear me?

MARY JANE: The Post said that the number of deaths at Hebrew Home have been under-reported.

CHRISTIE:   When?

MARY JANE:  A friend sent it to me yesterday.  192 deaths.

CHRISTIE:  (Stunned.) I worked right there,

MARY JANE:  The highest in the state.

CHRISTIE:  Next to it.  Until March. 

MARY JANE:  I know.

CHRISTIE:  I didn’t hear about this.

MARY JANE: They were piling the corpses in the old retreat center.

CHRISTIE:  We know someone who works there.

MARY JANE:  Yes, from the dog run.  Her mother also lives there.  Ruff-Ruff’s owner.

CHRISTIE:  One of my students worked as a waiter there.

MARY JANE:  There are infections among the staff.  The paper said that.

CHRISTIE:  I think people from my church (also work there). 

(Silence.)

MARY JANE:  I always used to, I was trying to pray.  I went to Catholic School with French nuns.  I looked up to them.  But I stopped. Something always seemed to be happening, so I didn’t pray anymore and never started again—and now things are so chaotic—and I can’t pray now.

(Silence.)

MARY JANE:  I’m afraid for people going into hospitals.  You go in and you might never come out.  Families can’t go to visit.  People are dying  and they’re alone. 

(Silence.)

CHRISTIE:  (Juno breaks out of her harness.) She broke out of her harness. She can snap the holder on the harness.  Juno you come back here.  I don’t want her running away.

MARY JANE:  Juno, you come back.

CHRISTIE:  (Suddenly.)  Don’t you run, Juno.  Junie, you come back here.  I don’t want her going down to the swamp.

(CHRISTIE runs after JUNO.)

MARY JANE:  You’re not going anywhere—you come back with us.

CHRISTIE:  Jasper, you stay here with me. 

(Juno is running off. Silence.)

CHRISTIE:  Come back, Junie.

MARY JANE:  She’s had enough of being tied up . . . 

CHRISTIE:  Come on back.  Don’t go anywhere. 

MARY JANE:  She’s tired . . . of everything . . .

CHRISTIE:  This leash comes off.  This leash comes off.  It slipped over her head.

MARY JANE:  . . . and the pandemic.  She sees what it’s doing.

(JUNO begins howling.)

CHRISTIE:  Stay right there.  That’s a good girl. I’ll come get you.

MARY JANE:   I’m glad an animal is helping us solve this.

(The howling gets louder.)

(End of Scene)

Copyright (c) 2020 by Bob Shuman.  All rights reserved. Photos: Winter, the llama, Straits Times; Jasper and Juno in “jail.”

BROADWAY SHUTDOWN EXTENDED THROUGH LABOR DAY ·

(David Rooney’s article appeared in the Hollywood Reporter, 5/12; Photo: 12newsnow; via the Drudge Report.)

The Broadway League on Tuesday confirmed that theaters will remain dark for an additional three months, though industry insiders anticipate the reopening date remaining in flux, possibly until early 2021.

In the longest scheduled extension to date of the blackout of Broadway theaters prompted by the COVID-19 pandemic, trade organization the Broadway League announced Tuesday that the 41 top-tier New York theaters that went dark March 12 will remain that way at least through Sept. 6.

That’s a full three months beyond the last extension, which bumped back the original April 12 end date for the closure to June 7. However, few pundits are expecting to see theaters open for business Sept. 8, the day after Labor Day, which falls on a Monday when most Broadway theaters remain dark. The situation seems likely to be reevaluated as that date approaches, with producers and theater owners adopting a wait-and-see policy in accordance with state guidelines and other safety and economic considerations.

“No one wants to get too far ahead of the governor on this,” said one prominent producer who spoke off the record.

(Read more)

ROY HORN OF SIEGFRIED & ROY DIES OF CORONAVIRUS AT 75 ·

(Pat Saperstein’s article appeared in Variety, 5/8; photo: Comicbook.com.)

Roy Uwe Ludwig Horn, whose collaboration with Siegfried Fischbacher created the well-known animal training and magic duo Siegfried & Roy, died of complications from COVID-19 Friday in Las Vegas. He was 75.

Horn had revealed on April 28 that he had tested positive for coronavirus.

“Today, the world has lost one of the greats of magic, but I have lost my best friend,” Siegfried said in a statement, “From the moment we met, I knew Roy and I, together, would change the world. There could be no Siegfried without Roy, and no Roy without Siegfried.

“Roy was a fighter his whole life including during these final days. I give my heartfelt appreciation to the team of doctors, nurses and staff at Mountain View Hospital who worked heroically against this insidious virus that ultimately took Roy’s life.”

Born in Nordenham, Germany, Horn had a lifelong love of animals and adopted a cheetah, Chico, at an early age.

He met magician Siegfried while working as a steward on a cruise ship. Horn asked Siegfried if he could make a cheetah disappear, not knowing that Horn had smuggled his pet cheetah on board. Siegfried said, “In magic, anything is possible,” though they were then reportedly fired from the ship.

(Read more)

 

MABOU MINES: WATCH ‘DEAD END KIDS: A STORY OF NUCLEAR POWER’ ·

DEAD END KIDS:

A STORY OF
NUCLEAR POWER

Visit and give to Mabou Mines

Watch ‘Dead End Kids’

________________________

CONCEIVED AND DIRECTED BY

JoAnne Akalaitis

THE PLAY …

PREMIERE: November 11, 1980 Presented by Joseph Papp at The Public Theater – NYC

Text by JoAnne Akalaitis & Company, with excerpts from the writings of Paracelsus, Eve Curie, Marie Curie, Goethe, Jorge Luis Borges, General L.R. Groves and from institutional and government reports on nuclear weapons and nuclear energy.

“Almost single-handedly she (JoAnne Akalaitis) is giving new life to the whole notion of political theater.”

– FRANK RICH, NY TIMES

THE FILM …

PREMIERE: NOVEMBER 5, 1986 FILM FORUM I – NYC

PRODUCED BY Marian Godfrey & Monty Diamond
MUSIC BY David Byrne with additional music by: Philip Glass

Photo: Mabou Mines

 

CONSTANT STANISLAVSKI (82) ·


Perhaps [some] think that outward acting which does not come from inner experiences but simply from the eye and the ear, acting which is simply a photograph of the painting and the sound they have before them, is the real new principle of acting? It is easy to deceive ourselves in our sphere of art; it is easy to take craftmanlike theatrical emotion for the inspiration of the true artist. (MLIA)

SHETLER STUDIOS & THEATRES HAS CLOSED ·

Dear Shetler Studios & Theatres community –

We hope you and your loved ones are in good health, and that you are finding positive ways to adapt to the new world we find ourselves living in. Hopefully you have found some silver linings, maybe some peace and quiet, and perhaps a new focus and renewed excitement for the creative paths ahead.

It is with a very heavy heart we announce that after 30 years in the heart of the Theatre District, Shetler Studios & Theatres has closed its doors for good. The path to recovery is simply too steep for our small company.

We have great pride in the facility we built and the community we nurtured. Most valued of all are the relationships we enjoyed with our clients, in some cases for many, many years. Thank you for your commitment to our studios.

Hopefully we will be in touch as friends and colleagues over the months and years ahead. Stay positive, be well, and good luck.

 

Ron Shetler, Founder & Owner

Robin A. Paterson, Managing Artistic Director

& the Shetler Team