Monday, December 12, 2016

Review: ‘The Encounter’, multiple-voiced one-man show by Simon McBurney


“The Encounter”, conceived, directed and performed by Simon McBurney is inspired by the 1991 novel “Amazon Beaming”, a true story about a National Geographic photographer, Loren McIntyre, who became lost in the jungle of the Amazon river in 1969. The layered narrative and superior storytelling abilities of McBurney is boosted from the advanced aural technology making this solo-performance a truly one of a kind Broadway show.

photo by Robbie Jack

A head set on each seat awaits every audience member. McBurney jokingly gives instructions on how this is all going to work from a technical point of view. The robotic grey head on a stick in the middle of the stage is in fact a microphone, receivers to which are attached to each of the audience member’s headsets. When McBurney whispers in the head’s right ear – you right ear gets warm and not only because he said it would. The encompassing sound is uncanny, especially considering where you are. Sitting in the row O in the Golden Theater and being able to hear the actor whisper is pretty incredible by itself.

McBurney entertains us with this new toy for a while but also starts throwing some thoughts about the role of technology in modern society. He pulls out his cell phone, replying to his daughter’s call, and scrolls down through the endless tiled wall of her pictures. “There are more pictures of my daughter in this phone than there are pictures of my childhood and adolescence combined anywhere, and this is just from the last few weeks” – he notices with surprise and devastation. How persistently the human psyche desires to hold on to photographs, as if it was the only proof of somebody’s existence.

There will be no imagery in the show – scenic design by Michael Lavine consists of a desk, many microphones and many bottles of water. The backdrop looks like an inflated soundproof grid, the kind that they use in recording studios. Abstract patterns of video projections, designed by Will Duke, and the lighting by Paul Anderson, are the only visual effects. This clean, strictly technical, setting is inhabited by Michael Lavine’s wild choreography. The dense, sound landscape provokes intense movement from the actor as the story is told both verbally and physically, enhanced by the sound design by Gareth Fry and Pete Malkin.

We witness Loren McIntyre’s trip to the Amazon, and his encounter with the local tribe, Mayoruna, turning it into a spiritual journey. Simultaneously, we watch Michael Lavine working on this story in his apartment in London, the voice of his invisible, 5-year-old daughter constantly interrupting him. Lavine uses different voices for himself, photographer McIntyre, and others. He talks into different microphones and we identify his voice with the narrator or the character. But sometimes the actor’s voice disappears in the forest of prerecorded ambient sounds and fragments of interviews with other people, including Mr. Popescu. Your hearing flounders around looking for the guidance of a familiar voice. You catch yourself thinking: is it happening on stage or did I close my eyes for a moment and dream of the Amazon rain forest?

“The Encounter” runs through January 8th in John Golden Theatre at 252 W. 45th St. Tickets start from $49 and are available online.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Review: ‘Street Children’ by Pia Scala-Zankel


It is incredibly inspiring to see well-written and artfully executed plays about transgender and gay people on the stages of New York. It is even more so in the case of “Street Children”, written by Pia Scala-Zankel and directed by Jenna Worsham, currently running in the New Ohio Theatre. Vertigo Theater Company put together a cast of 15 “transgender, queer and gender fluid actors” to take the audience back in time to the late 80’s and tell the story of three queer youngsters attempt to survive in the city.

photo by Ted Alcorn

Angela (JP Moraga), Jamie (Eve Lindley) and Terrence (Victor Almanzar) are trying to come to terms with the reality after the beloved mother of their House of Diamonte was cruelly murdered. Frequenters of the Harlem drag balls, these three are looking to forget their troubles, not by vogue, but with drugs, sex and violence. As they reach out to their families, look to romantic encounters and prostitution, they are rejected over and over until they realize that they only have each other.

All three leading actors sculpt their characters masterfully. You root for beautiful Jamie (full of sarcasm and a dignified portrayal by Eve Lindley), who is striving for a better life against all odds. You feel pain for self-destructing Angela (JP Moraga), especially during her visit to her younger sister after two years of separation. JP Moraga is dressed in a sharp black suit and is wearing the disguise of “Felix”, successful make up artist. He throws money and gifts at his teenage sister, Lala (Yadira Guevara-Prip), in the hope of making peace with her and their mother. But the more he tries to be at ease, the more he scares her. Finally, there is Terrence (boyishly blusterous Victor Almanzar) who is both tough and vulnerable. It’s hard to believe that the very same person can beat up a go-go boy violently and then play make-believe hair salon with Jamie to make her feel better.                      
         
The scenery, by Angelica Borrero, depicts a surreal dark alley: walls are covered in murals, the construction pillars of the building are stripped naked, and a couple of metal podiums complete the landscape. In this unwelcoming space, the members of the chorus are wandering around like lost souls while the main action is unfolding in the foreground. Sometimes this movement feels distracting but it also gives the director, Jenna Worsham, an opportunity to move wooden benches between the scenes to create a new setting. The strictly practical rotation of the furniture turns into a hypnotic dance, which sometimes helps to set the mood for the next scene (e.g. Terrence goes to the strip club) or accentuate the props (sculpture of Jesus in Angela/Felix’s mother’s house).

Striking modeling poses, aka voguing, is heavily employed by the choreographers, MJ Rodriguez (also playing Gina) and Tamara Williams (chorus). Numerous dance scenes balance out dramatic dialogues and immerse the audience into the atmosphere of a “Paris Is Burning”-esque setting. Without being cheesy, the dancing elements emerge in the story when words are not enough to convey the overwhelming avalanche of emotions. The loud and eclectic costumes, by Bernat Buscato, complete the overall impeccable style of the production. The style of “Street Children” evokes a late 80’s nostalgia and manages to look very modern at the same time.

The freshness and bold vitality of the approach to historical material is what makes “Street Children” a truly valuable piece of theater. It’s not just a character driven drama set against an 80’s backdrop. “Street Children” is a successful attempt to process the recent history with both heart and knowledge. Seeing it performed by LGBTQ folks who face somewhat new, yet the same, issues almost 30 years later makes you feel how far humanity has gone and how much there is still to fix. 

“Street Children” runs through December 17th in New Ohio Theatre at located at 154 Christopher Street. Performances are Tuesdays – Saturdays at 7:30pm. Tickets are $28 and $18 for students, and can be purchased at VertigoTheater.org or by calling 1-866- 811-4111. For mature audiences 16+. The running time is 90 minutes with no intermission. For info visit VertigoTheater.org.

Monday, December 5, 2016

Review: ‘Alligator’, avoid being eaten alive


“Troubled teenager” stories seem to be made for the stage: full of drama and self-search, they tend to be raw and bold. At least this is what “Alligator,” a play written by Hilary Bettis and directed by Elena Araoz, strives for. And they partially succeed in setting the audience onto this dark and bloody existential journey, but not without the help of a strong cast, beautifully haunting scenic and light design, and meditative live music. Unfortunately, the production lacks sharpness of the essential elements: writing and directing. The play seems unnecessary long with one too many rape scenes. And yet “Alligator” is remarkable and worth seeing.
Heather Phelps-Lipton
The intriguing premise introduces us to six youngsters whose lives intertwine against the backdrop of the Florida Everglades in 1999. There is a sweet and naïve new comer, Dianne (Lexi Lapp), a visiting college football player, Danny (Julian Eijah Martinez), a transient and reckless traveler, Lucy (Talene Manahon), a new army recruit, Merick (Samuel H. Levine) and the orphan twins, Emerald (Lindsay Rico) and Ty (Dakota Granados), that are stuck in the Everglades forever. Like different streams of water, some of them pure, some of them murky, they all flow into the same swamp of tears, blood and whiskey in their search for love and understanding.  
We first meet Emerald and Ty, who struggle to survive by continuing their father’s business, an alligator wrestling show. The play opens with a fiery introduction by Ty in which he explains their tough situation. The theater audience, now at the alligator show, cheers and screams like “pigs at a slaughterhouse” on Ty’s command, ready for some bloody action. But instead of a gator show we are presented with its preview, Em’s hypnotic dance. She jumps into a wrestling pit filled with water ankle-high and, facing the tall wooden gate, she starts to summon the beast of the swamps.
The smoke is writhing under the celling of a chamber theater; the water is splashing in every direction. The red wig slides down and her own tangled, dark hair falls on her face as Em moves to the rhythms of the music, written and performed by Daniel Ocanto(percussion/drums), Graham Ulincy (guitar, synthesizer) and Sean Smith (trumpet, keyboard).  This strong, emotionally charged and visually grasping opening scene establishes the fight with the inner demons as a main topic of the play. Lindsay Rico is very good in her portrayal of Emerald, a tough yet vulnerable, passionate yet reserved, child of a swamp.       
There are some beautifully choreographed fights in the show (UnkleDave’s Fight-House). Including the fight between Em and Rex (Bobby Moreno), a guy with a giant alligator puppet on his head and back. No offence to Jessica Scott, who executed the gator with astonishing realism and subtle sarcasm (check out the trash sticking out of his amputated paw) but the character of Rex, with his undefined nature and lengthy existential monologues, looks completely out of place. The idea to embody a “force of nature”, an “inner demon” or a “drunk hallucination” in the form of a dude with a puppet attached to his back reminds me of a high school theater, even though the entire production is very professional.                  
The scenic design, by Arnulfo Maldonado, is one of the most impressive works I have seen lately. There is a wooden wall behind the audience with a tall ladder leading to a door, where Em climbs. The necessity to turn your head around to see it brings the entire space into play and puts the audience in the middle of the action. On the stage there is a round pit filled with water at the bottom and two low walls marking the border between the stage and the audience. The amount of surfaces allows for a dynamic staging, which could be utilized even more. The water in the pit splashes, creating natural visual effects and adding to the nuanced sound design, by Pornchanok Kanchanabanca, as actors walk, dance and fight in it.
The scenes take place in different locations but everything happens in the same set. The only thing that changes is the opening and the closing of the wooden gate, behind which the musicians are located. Yet it doesn’t seem like a budget or space limitation, but a clever and elaborate decision to present the set as a place of offering to the ancient gods. The impression gets spoiled a bit by the fact that the “powerful and dark something” is represented by a guy wearing a giant gator as a backpack.
“Alligator” is produced by New Georges in collaboration with The Sol Project and  runs through December 18th at the A.R.T./New York Theatres (502 West 53rd Street and 10th Avenue) Tickets ($25 and $55) are available online at www.newgeorges.org or by calling 1-800-838- 3006.