September 6th, 2016

STRANGE SHORE: London and Rome

SUNDRY LAND: United Kingdom and Italy

WANDERING WAY: Why the cultural contributions of John Doyle should be shunned, why NOT to watch Chekhov’s Ivanov at age 35, how American artists are rocking London museums, and why Italy isn’t conducive to being a productive member of society.

There may be a certain division of opinion as to whether my recent week-long absence from “Strange and Sundry” is warranted. Well, there are two reasons:

1. A bad cold in England led to the sort of hacking, coughing bouts that prompt innocent bystanders to stare and wonder if a worldwide super-plague has finally hit Anglo shores.

2. I was entrusted (by heavenly forces) with an all-important shoe-seeking mission the minute that I hit Italy.

In the first case, some readers will cry, “A cold?!? BIG DEAL! WHEN I WAS A KID, I USED TO WALK THROUGH DRIFTING SNOW FOR FIVE THOUSAND MILES IN THE DARKEST, COLDEST DAYS OF FEBRUARY WITH WOLVES HOWLING ALL AROUND ME --- PNEUMONIA, FROSTBITE, WOLF BITES, AND I DIDN’T COMPLAIN!!!” Other readers will react by cooing, “Oh poor, poor Sharon, she caught a terrible cold in a foreign land! I wish that I could ship her some chicken soup right now!”

In the second case, a contingent of readers will complain, “SHOES! I HAD TO WAIT TO READ MY VERY FAVORITE INTERNET BLOG EVER BECAUSE SHE WENT SHOE SHOPPING?” Other readers will reply, “Ooooohhhh, what did you find? Can you ship the cutest pair back to the US in my size?”

Whatever your personal reaction to my reasons, let me express my gratitude that you spend spare seconds reading “Strange and Sundry” at all. I love writing it; you love reading it; aren't we a happy bunch?

An Abbreviated Overview of London’s Theatrical Offerings:

1.The Fiasco Theatre Production of “Into the Woods” @ The Menier Chocolate Factory (https://www.menierchocolatefactory.com/Online/default.asp?doWork::WScontent::loadArticle=Load&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::article_id=EB31BA14-662A-4231-81DC-ECFF683D4342&sessionlanguage=&SessionSecurity::linkName=)

I’m not really qualified to review this production of “Into the Woods” because (quite frankly) I walked out after the first ten minutes. The ushers ran up to me once I hit the lobby asking if anything was wrong, expecting me to spew vomit like Linda Blair in “The Exorcist.” The only reply that these concerned souls received in return was a disgusted glare and a curt, “No. I’m fine,” before I stormed out in huff.

Sorry, but listening to sub-par Sondheim produces an almost violent reaction. I’d been looking forward to the production, especially since I’d missed this so-called “enchanting” (New York Times) and “gorgeous” (New York Magazine) version when it played in (yes) New York last season (http://www.roundabouttheatre.org/Shows-Events/Into-the-Woods.aspx).  Although I could go into a long tirade about the incompetence of New York theatre reviewers, I daren’t -- Ben Brantley’s hired a team of snipers to shoot naysayers in cold blood.* However, more than New York City’s dearth of honest theatrical appraisers, here’s the basic problem: John Doyle.

[*Obvious Exception to the Denunciation Above -- The theatre reviewer Alexis Soloski, however, quite clearly rocks: http://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/16/theater/devotion-to-the-stage-and-to-a-newborn.html?smid=tw-share&_r=0]

Way back in 2005/6, John Doyle directed two productions of Stephen Sondheim musicals, Sweeney Todd (http://www.nytimes.com/2005/11/04/theater/reviews/grand-guignol-spare-and-stark.html?_r=0) and Company (http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/30/theater/reviews/30comp.html) that were hailed as creative achievements because the director (Doyle) asked the cast to play the instruments (guitar, tuba, etc.) in pared-down orchestrations of Sondheim’s score even as they ALSO sang and acted onstage. I saw both productions. These variations on “Sweeney Todd” and “Company” had good moments, but they mostly succeeded because of the Herculean efforts of the powerful Michael Cerveris (Todd), incomparable Patti LaPone (Mrs. Lovett), and dashing Raúl Esparza (Bobby), all of whom (as we know) can sing like archangels.

Despite John Doyle’s ambiguous achievements, can everyone just agree that having a cast play instruments as they also sing and act Sondheim is a radically bad idea? I HATE listening to TERRIBLE musicians play FLIMSY orchestrations as they sing GALLING renditions of Sondheim’s songs. Add mediocre over-acting into this mix, and you have conditions that might lead to a Linda Blair-like reaction.

Also, frankly, isn’t it all rather ten years ago? Rather, ahem, passé? I am so sick of hipster “let’s-put-on-a-show!” amateurish productions that rely on “creative direction” and ornate choreography/stage-business. It’s so tired. Couldn’t someone just hire a few musicians who can play, a few singers who can sing, and a few actors who can act? Really. What’s so wrong with hiring professional musicians every now and then? What’s wrong with Sondheim’s original orchestrations? If a theatre producer’s running low on funds, it doesn’t excuse hiring an actor who says he can bang on a piano. IT MUST STOP.

2. “Pride and Prejudice” @ The Open Air Theatre in Regent’s Park (https://openairtheatre.com/whats-on)

‘Twas a cold and stormy night, and I was already hacking like a nineteenth-century consumptive. I had to return my ticket. When I asked the sour woman at ticket counter to gift my ticket to a student free of charge (as I coughed and shivered), she announced that the theatre wouldn’t and couldn’t in a tone of sheer annoyance. Why this resistance to a charitable act towards student theatre-goers everywhere? Other theatres have been totally delighted by my policy of giving away unused (or unusable) theatre tickets to needy student patrons, but oh no, not the “Open Air Theatre” at Regent’s Park. As far as the “Open Air Theatre” is concerned, young students can go hang…in the dark. In a storm.

As for Pride and Prejudice, could someone tell me how it ends?

Ha.

3. “Ivanov” @ The National Theatre (https://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/shows/ivanov)

Finally, I’ve seen the entire triptych of The National Theatre’s “Young Chekhov” repertory! Hooray!

Geoffrey Streatfeild did a masterful job as Ivanov – it must be said that this actor is on a roll. Between his hilarious Mr. Archer in “The Beaux’ Stratagem” last season (http://ntlive.nationaltheatre.org.uk/productions/50441-the-beaux-stratagem) and his touching Protasov in “Children of the Sun” the season before (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10001279/Children-of-the-Sun-National-Theatre-review.html), I’d say Streatfeild’s the most reliably excellent leading man in The National’s roster at the moment. Moreover, this production of Ivanov featured Nina Sosanya as Anna Petrovna, an actress who dazzled in Young Chekhov’s "Platonov" as well. The two actors astound in a final wrenching exchange that emphasizes Chekhov's critique of antisemitism -- it made me wonder how "Ivanov" would pair in repertory with "The Merchant of Venice" -- the whole audience gasped when Streatfeild's Ivanov finally attacked Sosanya's Anna with a vicious slur.

Even though the production was stellar in all respects, I wouldn’t say that “Ivanov” is advisable viewing for anyone who’s taking a journey of cultural-exploration and self-discovery at the age of 35.

For those not in the know, “Ivanov” is about a 35-year-old idealist who despairs in lamenting his wasted life; subsequently, the character sinks into a despondent depression despite his loving wife, enthusiastic mistress, and concerned neighbors. In the end, Ivanov shoots himself in the head in a flurry of self-disgust.

Don’t worry! Watching Ivanov didn’t make me want to shoot myself in the head! On the contrary, I felt (for the first time ever) that Chekhov must’ve been a bit of a ninny to pinpoint the nadir of despair in the ennui of a disillusioned 35-year-old undergoing a mid-life crisis. 35’s not so bad – worse things can happen than realizing, “my life didn’t turn out quite the way I thought it would,” at the age of 35. Then again, this is a lesser work of “Young Chekhov” – the playwright would locate deeper wells of despair later in his career. Thank goodness.

Phew! It’s already past midnight, and so I’ll defer my art reviews of the Georgia O’Keefe (great), William Eggleston (absolutely fantastic), and Alex Katz (pretty darn good) exhibitions until the morrow.

And here’s the briefest explanation of why it’s difficult to be a productive member of society in Italy…you’re so flippin’ happy and full of delicious food that you can’t think of good reasons to move, let alone do anything productive. Till tomorrow! Ciao!