Tag: review

Photo by Matthew Murphy

When Dina (played by Katrina Lenk) beautifully sings “Welcome to Nowhere,” a song introducing the audience to the show’s location, she doesn’t portray it to be one of the most exciting places. In fact, she goes so far as to sing “Such a city, nobody knows it. Not a fun, not an art, nor a culture. This is Bet Hativka.”

And her character is right: this show, like it repeatedly describes, is a simple story about how ‘’Once not long ago group of musicians came to Israel from Egypt. You probably didn’t hear about it. It wasn’t very important.”

The Alexandria Ceremonial Police Orchestra. Photo by Matthew Murphy.

Yet, in this charming 95-minute show, audiences are thrust into a story that is so simple yet so complex, just like the human experience. Indeed, like life, the show begins with a slow start, in which we are introduced to the Alexandria Ceremonial Police Orchestra from Egypt, which, due to a misunderstanding of their final destination, end up spending a night in Bet Hatikva rather than Petah Tikva.

Stuck in a new place with nothing else to do, we see these strangers begin to connect. Part of the experience of meeting new people is finding out more about them: at first, you don’t know much about each other, but as time goes on, you learn more and begin to feel more for one another. The same is true for characters in shows. While The Band’s Visit eventually introduces us to all of its characters, unfortunately, we only get to really know a few. As the show progresses, though, we see extraordinary songs and heart-wrenching moments from most of the characters that, when the characters we as the audience get to know are involved, leave us tearful and filled with emotion.

For the characters we don’t get know as well, moments of truth — revealed in admittedly beautiful songs — can be a little confusing. Why does the man who waits by the telephone wait so obsessively for his girlfriend to call, to the point of being agitated when someone else uses the phone? Just because he misses her? Knowing nothing about this man except that he waits and waits and waits, it felt as if his behavior fell closer in line with someone who is unhealthily obsessed rather than in love. While this too can be part of the human experience, it was frustrating to see this moment aggrandized as it leads into the final grand moment of the show in which the entire cast harmonizes beautifully, singing about longing, love, and human connection. If we had gotten to know this man better, perhaps the final wouldn’t have felt as if it came out of nowhere.

That being said, the final song (“Answer Me”) is still beautiful in its own right, highlighting the show’s strongest component: its music. With lyrics and composition by David Yazbeck, every song pulls at the heart, making you laugh and leaving you contemplating your own desires. Each song is stunning and invites the audience members into the moment, allowing them to connect with the music on a personal level, even if they’re not familiar with the musical style, which is inspired by Arabic culture — something rarely seen on Broadway.

In a time that feels incredibly divisive, this production shows that, despite differences in our languages, our backgrounds, and our heritages, we all still are united in one human experience. We still all have a desire to love and be answered, and The Band’s Visit is such an important musical because it reminds us of just that. Rather than focusing on gaudy, ostentatious sets, colors, and music, it strips down these elements and focuses on the simple, the ordinary. This ordinariness actually produces something  unique and extraordinary, and, accordingly, the show should be seen by all.

Tickets to The Band’s Visit can be purchased from the show’s website.

Photo courtesy of Roberta Kirosingh

 

I may not have been a Rocky Horror virgin when I entered the Diana Event Oval on Friday, October 27th, but I was still inexperienced: this was only my second time seeing The Rocky Horror Picture Show live with a shadow cast. The difference between these two times for me was like the difference between the first time you have sex and every time after that: a vast improvement and learning experience.

Surprisingly enough, CMTS’s production of Rocky Horror was the latter in this analogy. My first experience was over the summer at a theater in Chelsea, and the uncomfortable, awkward feeling I had during the entirety of this production due to its lackluster quality definitely made me feel like the virgin I was labeled as. In fact, I’m hesitant to even count it as experience because it didn’t really teach me how to engage with a live Rocky Horror.

CMTS’s Rocky Horror, on the other hand, was the first time of my dreams.

Packed to capacity, the vibrant energy one associates with Rocky Horror was present in the space before the directors and hosts Maggie Vlietstra and Madeline Ducharme even walked on stage. And when the two did finally speak, it was in the same wacky manner as the characters of the movie. Every sentence was a joke, and mindful of their audience, Vlietstra and Ducharme catered these jokes to the Barnumbia community, mentioning how our limited free time was fleeting as per the CSA time management sheet and how alluring Lincoln Center could be, especially if your initials are D.S.

The fun didn’t stop when the movie started and the hosts left the stage. Instead, it was continued by Nick Hermesman, Carina Gobelbecker, and Liz Sobolik as they danced and stripped to complement the infamous introductory red lips of Rocky Horror. To my amazement–and I think it’s safe to say the amazement of everyone present–this choreography even included flips and splits in high heels. Mouths opened in awe, and soon after in laughter as the plot of the film began.

I find it hard to even begin to describe how wonderful the cast was because they made the show into a one-of-a-kind experience. Each member accomplished the difficult task of both interacting with and ignoring the audience. Dr. Scott gave high-fives while rolling through the audience, and Frank N. Furter, played by Juan Esteban Guerrero, threw Furter’s wig into the audience area. But the cast never missed a beat, even when the enthusiastic call-outs from the chorus and audience and sound of the movie blurred into a distracting and intelligible blob of noise, even when they were running up and down the aisles of the Event Oval.

Brad and Janet during rehearsal. Photo courtesy of Roberta Kirosingh.

Janet, played by Grace Hargis, and Brad, played by Lulu Cerone, were equally charming in the way they effortlessly adapted to their roles and embodied their characters, becoming the perfect shadows to the on-screen characters they were mirroring on stage. Rowan Hepps Keeney’s Rocky was comical and goofy, which balanced out the swagger of Guerrero’s Frank N. Furter, whose enormous presence demanded every ounce of attention from the audience, even when Furter was killing Rachel Barkowitz’s equally cocky Eddie off-stage. Charlotte Force and Rachel Miga also put on fantastic performances as Riff Raff and Magenta respectively, and their surprisingly well-rendered costumes, with their metallic and shimmering materials, literally dazzled the audience at times. The dynamic between the entirety of the cast — chorus and shadow cast alike — brought all of this together into what was truly a hilarious, fun-filled experience. I don’t know when else I’d ever get to put on a party hat and throw toilet paper at a movie screen while watching people run around stage half-naked and energetically mirror a movie except at Rocky Horror, and I especially don’t know where else I’d get to do it for only $2.50.

People often talk about how much they love doing things in the city, but can’t because it can be expensive. CMTS’s Rocky Horror reminded me that we don’t have to look past the Barnumbia gates to get a stellar theater experience: we’ve got plenty of talent right here on campus that you can see for cheap (and, if you live on campus, without taking public transit!). So, if you missed out on CMTS’s Rocky Horror this year, don’t worry — it’s an annual affair, and there’s plenty of other upcoming student productions you can check out on the Arts Initiative’s website. Or, if this article has made you really wish you went to this year’s Rocky Horror, try doing the timewarp again and maybe, just maybe, you’ll end up there.

Image via IDBD

Gloria Estefan was a trailblazer. She was one of the most successful female artists of all time, the most successful Latin-American crossover artist, and her voice is a force to be reckoned with. So when I took my seat at the Marquis Theater to watch her story come to life onstage, I had high expectations. But alas, I was disappointed.

The show On Your Feet: The Story of Emilio and Gloria Estefan has all the promise in the world. With songs like “Congo,” “On Your Feet,” and “The Rhythm is Gonna Get You,” the writers had a lot to work from. I practically congo-ed into the theater, eager to dance and clap along to Gloria’s famous beats and ready for Broadway’s liveliest show yet. But instead, I found myself falling asleep.

Broadway has had a history of success with these kinds of musicals. Jersey Boys, which was based on Franki Valli and the Four Seasons, is a smash hit. Mamma Mia!, written around ABBA’s famous songs, has been solidified as a classic. But for On Your Feet, it felt like Broadway gave up.

The opening number of On Your Feet is slow, boring, and actually quite confusing. For the first ten minutes of the show, scenery and time shifts at a mile a minute, and we are left extremely disoriented. First, a young Gloria awkwardly dances with strangers on the street while her mother jokes about the laundry, then solemnly sings to her father who is serving in the Korean War, and then all of sudden she’s all grown up and taking care of her MS-stricken father. Emilio enters the scene incredibly quickly, and before we know it Gloria is singing with his band and they fall in love without even a hint of a glitch. The entire first act happens quicker than you can imagine (and yet still manages to drag on with only the slowest of Gloria’s songs!) The act’s ending number, “Conga,” Gloria’s biggest hit, gave me hope that the second act would be livelier.

But of course, it wasn’t. The start of Act Two continued on in the same way, skipping so many years and milestones. All of a sudden Gloria is the biggest female artist in America, but we are given no details about how she got there or what her life is like. Only ten minutes into Act Two she is hit by a truck and the remainder of the show follows her road to recovery, once again choosing the slowest songs in her repertoire. In the final number, a coda after the story ends, the cast belts out “On Your Feet” and showcases some epic dance moves, but it was only the second number that had me smiling.

Of course, the show did have its highlights. Ana Villafane, who plays Gloria, is fantastic, and her pipes sound eerily similar to Gloria’s. The dialogue is well-written, well-acted, and actually quite funny. Gloria’s abuela, played by Alma Cuervo, is the show’s most entertaining and sentimental character, and overall the show’s arc is gripping. Where On Your Feet fails, however, is in its music choices and rough transitions. Perhaps if it had followed Jersey Boys’ example and blended much more fun with the serious, it might have been more exciting to watch. My Grade: B-

 

The Must-Watch List: If you are looking for a show to see, I’d definitely recommend getting tickets to Andrew Lloyd Weber’s School of Rock. The show will blow your mind with its insane music and witty dialogue, and you’ll be floored by the completely live musical performance by the show’s star children. If you loved the movie, you’ll love the musical even more. My Grade: A

 

Renée Fleming as the Marschallin in Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier. Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera.

Renée Fleming as the Marschallin in Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier. Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera.

“So beautiful,” whispered a captivated concertgoer behind me. Normally, any talking—or sound for that matter—is hurriedly and aggressively shushed by a “serious” audience member at the Met. Renée Fleming, however, seemed to provoke an admissible exception.

Fleming’s whirlwind return to the Met Opera’s season premiere of Der Rosenkavalier (music by Richard Strauss, libretto by Hugo von Hofmannsthal) electrified the opera community. Last week, Fleming scared many by announcing that she would soon be leaving the opera stage. Fleming has since nixed the retirement idea, but the effect of the buzz was obvious: fans came in large numbers just in case this would be the last time that they could do so. In attendance as well were some of Fleming’s collaborators, who have sung with her over the years–coming to support her previously-presumed last run at the Met.

Fleming, for her part, plays the Marschallin: a middle-aged member of the Viennese aristocracy who sighs in anguish over the cruelness of aging. Fleming knows—and loves—the role. In her first solo at the end of Act 1, Fleming smartly addressed the silver rose—a symbol of youth and forthcoming happiness—with an imploring, wistful tone quality. Shortly after, her sweet, yet innerly despairing voice seized the audience’s empathy.

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Renée Fleming as the Marschallin in Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier. Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera.

However, notwithstanding the positive aspects of Fleming’s work tonight, I do prefer her 2010 performance of the same role (Columbia faculty and students can find it through CLIO under the keyword “Met Opera on Demand”). In that performance, she lived the Marschallin: solemn tears slowly streamed down her face at the end of the “Mein schöner Schatz” duet in Act 1. Her phrasing and sepulchral tone made for an unforgettable moment.

Tonight’s conductor, Sebastian Weigle, again chose problematic tempos. The prelude, for example, was much too fast. Here, the music is declarative, demonstrative—overly confident and grandiose. Yet, Weigle seemed incredibly anxious, gesturing with extremely quick circular motions (so fast that his arms were just a blur to my eyes). By taking a quicker tempo, the music sounded too hectic and lost its appropriate gusto.

Weigle made a similarly poor decision in the last minutes of Act 3. Here, silvery chords in the high strings, winds, and percussion flutter downward. The descent should be reflective—it is the end of the opera!—and ethereal. However, it felt tossed-off, illy cared for–herky-jerky and uneven. I recognize that I was critical of Weigle’s lethargic tempo decisions for Fidelio, yet here he seems to have gone in the opposite direction. I do admit however, that future runs of the production might produce better results.

The Met orchestra impressed me —as it routinely does—with its stamina. In the middle of the third act, I heard a clarinetist–presumably either Inn-Hyuck Cho or Anton Rist–flawlessly execute a rapid lick that flickered between the clarion and altissimo registers. The passage was followed by a sustained, pianissimo high note. Both of these sections are incredibly difficult to play when with fresh energy. They’re almost a miracle after two and a half hours of continuous music.

Robert Carsen, the producer of the Met’s new take on Der Rosenkavalier, replaces the dusty, Beauty-and-the-Beast-esque setting with a bawdy production set when the opera was written (1911). Topless prostitutes pursue and are pursued by lustful Viennese men; Octavian, the Marschallin’s young lover, grabs his partner’s behind (what a great way to say, “Welcome back, Renée!”); and Sophie, Octavian’s new love, carelessly dances across one of her father’s howitzer (oddly placed in the living room of their modern palace).

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The playfulness of Octavian–performed by Elīna Garanča–and the Marschallin–sung by Renée Fleming–on display in Act 1. Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera.

Admittedly, I was skeptical when I learned about Carsen’s decision to set the third act in a brothel. Typically, it is staged in an inn, a “house of ill repute.” However, the text—the same one used for the inn setting—actually translates well in the new environs: it is believable that Sophie’s dad Faninal calls Octavian, who is disguised as Mariandel, a slut and it makes sense that Octavian assumes a baser dialect as a working-class Viennese woman (some funny lines include “Whad’ya mean?” and “I ain’t gonna drink no wine.”)

The one aspect of the brothel that felt most uncomfortable, however, was the onstage jazz quartet. Prostitutes pantomimed and synchronized fake playing on the clarinet, saxophone, double bass, and accordion. Not only was their supposed music not like the orchestra’s actual performance, but also the quartet implied 1920s Europe more than the 1910s. The production had a 1920s feel to it elsewhere as well, Octavian’s flapper-like costume in Act 1 being another example.  

I found Carsen’s incorporation of the Zeitgeist—especially Freudian ideas—rather compelling. When Sophie sings about her upcoming marriage, dreamlike clones of Sophie and her groom-to-be waltz behind her. Sophie is bathed in a yellow spotlight—the light of the real world—while the dancers behind her are enveloped in purple—a hue of the inner, thought world. Carsen’s decision illustrates how an individual’s inner thoughts and desires are experienced as real, even while awake.

Elīna Garanča as Octavian and Erin Morley as Sophie in Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier swear their love for each other in front of an imposing howitzer. Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera.

Elīna Garanča as Octavian and Erin Morley as Sophie in Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier swear their love for each other in front of an imposing howitzer. Photo by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera.

Although this was seemingly The Renée Fleming Show, there are, of course, more singers in Der Rosenkavalier. Elīna Garanča as Octavian embodied the wide range of conflicting emotions of her character. At the end of the last act, Octavian is caught between the Marschallin and Sophie, unsure of who he should turn to. Here, Garanča’s expressions and voice illustrated Octavian’s distress well.

Erin Morley as Sophie sounded quite warm in the upper register, especially when she built up toward it. Unfortunately, she was sometimes overpowered by the orchestra, especially during a fast, staccato passage in Act 2. Overall, I found that her diction was unintelligible at times, but balance could be to blame.

Günther Groissböck–a holdover from Fidelio–swaggered with pride, aggression, and self-absorption as the predatorial Baron Ochs. In Act 2, he engaged with Sophie in a vocal battle of sorts, his crescendoing vocal presence overpowering his soon-to-be wife (who he caustically likened to an “unbroken foal”). The Ochs is easily one of the easiest-to-hate characters in opera.

But the night was Fleming’s. At curtain call, the audience enthusiastically expressed joy for her return and relief for her operatic stay. It was her voice—combined with the prowess of the Met orchestra—that led my fellow concertgoer to exclaim, “So beautiful.” It is for these cherished musical moments that we go to the opera and for which you should let yourself come too.

Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier runs through May 13, with casting changes. The opera will be broadcast live May 13, at 12:30 PM, on WQXR 105.9 FM. Information and ticket listings (including student and same-day rush tickets) can be found online at metopera.org.

 

 

Hello Columbia! My name is Remi (CC’20), and I’m the Creative Director for the Lion. I turned eighteen a few weeks ago, I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and I really love cats. One week ago today, I got a press pass to Bacchanal, and here is what went down.

No, this is not me pretending to write for Buzzfeed. Okay, maybe it is. Don’t judge. I’m fulfilling a fantasy, okay?

No, this is not me pretending to write for Buzzfeed. Okay, maybe it is. Don’t judge. I’m fulfilling a fantasy, okay?

Wednesday night before the concert the Bacchanal e-Board invited us press pass holders to discuss logistics (at like 11pm – and I had an exam the next morning, whoops). There were four of us: the Lion (me), Bwog, Spec, and something they called the “Bacchanal Press” which I’m pretty sure was them hiring CPS photographers to get their own pics of the event. The press pass gave us access to both the ‘private’ viewing areas directly to the left and right of the stage on Low steps in addition to the regular mosh pits (on map labelled “Front Viewing Areas.” We were also told we’d be given limited access to the middle aisle in front of the stage for a few minutes per act to get some close up shots.

Image courtesy of the Bacchanal e-Board.

Image courtesy of the Bacchanal e-Board.

We were told that last year, the Bacchanal committee only gave out one press pass, which they explained to us was a total disaster in that the individual was backstage very drunk and made the committee look terrible. As a result, Public Safety significantly limited our access to the middle aisle area this year. On that note, only myself and the Bwog rep showed up to that first meeting.

The day of the show, we met at the side entrance to Low at 9:30 am to pick up our wristbands and purple press passes.

They used my I.D. photo. Ew, am I right? Look at that shine.

They used my I.D. photo. Ew, am I right? Look at that shine.

I went up to hang on Low steps at around 12pm, in preparation for the show to start at 12:30pm. The show actually started at 1pm, but they kept telling us to advertise a 12:30pm start to get people to show up.
The first act was a student opener, Battle of the Bands winner THOU SHALT NOT Entertainment (made up of Vanessa Chadehumbe, Tarek Deida, and Jenny Goggin). Before the show started, Vanessa complimented my blue lipstick. I was in a little bit of shock! She’s a pretty rad person and super nice, you guys. When you’re rich and famous, please remember me and hire me to be your photographer! –sobs

These guys know what’s up.

These guys know what’s up.

Let the show commence! THOU SHALT NOT did an amazing job, even if there were only a dozen spectators on either side. There was a student group as backup dancers who were also pretty spectacular. Unless told otherwise, you definitely would’ve thought they were a professional group. Check out their Soundcloud here.

Jenny Goggin of THOU SHALT NOT.

Jenny Goggin of THOU SHALT NOT.

Vanessa Chadehumbe and Tarek Deida of THOU SHALT NOT. So fierce.

Vanessa Chadehumbe and Tarek Deida of THOU SHALT NOT. So fierce.

Next there was about a twenty minute break before the second act: Mykki Blanco. For those who don’t know, she is a poet, rapper, and activist originally from California. During her performance, she got the audience to chant phrases like, “Protect Trans Women,” and “Protect Black Children.” Very Columbia.

Goddamnit, CAVA, messing up my perfect shot. Mykki still slays, though.

Goddamnit, CAVA, messing up my perfect shot. Mykki still slays, though.

It was honestly wild, though. About a minute into her performance, she leapt off the stage, jumped three fences, and took a stroll down College Walk. The other photographers and I were clicking away literally running after her. It was the first time I’ve ever felt very ‘paparazzi-esque,’ but it was fabulous. She then ran across the railings leading towards Low; you could practically feel Public Safety having a panic attack.

Lol wut are you doing?

Lol wut are you doing?

 

You go, Glen Coco. You live your best life.

You go, Glen Coco. You live your best life.

Next came D.R.A.M. (Does Real Ass Music; real name Shelley Marshaun Massenburg-Smith). You may know him for his song Broccoli featuring Lil Yachty, which was nominated for a Grammy Award last year. The crowd was starting to seriously pick up at this point, and the atmosphere reeked of stale alcohol and low expectations. The pens were pretty much filled by this point – there were girls sitting atop shoulders above the crowd; a steady thumping as the audience jumped up and down. The lawns, of course, were packed, their residents either not possessing tickets or unable to be bothered to get swept into the crowd of sweaty, drunk teenagers. Sticky!

Yass.

Yass.

D.R.A.M. got the crowd pumped up!

D.R.A.M. got the crowd pumped up!

Things got a little hazy. The DJ Almand came on and gave a steady performance of his own techno / rap mixes, and kept changing into wacky costumes with each song change.. Despite the stupor, you definitely got the sense that everyone present was having a pretty good time. Lines to get into the pens snaked around the corner while popcorn and Rice Krispie squares were being given out by the handfuls. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get any clear shots of Almand due to the Bacchanal committee sort of forgetting about us press people? It’s all good; poor guys, they seemed so stressed. Almand’s music was great, though, and he really engaged with the crowd, coming down off the stage and taking selfies with the crowd. At one point he took someone’s phone and took a picture onstage with the crowd!

Aluna Francis of London-based electronic duo AlunaGeorge.

Aluna Francis of London-based electronic duo AlunaGeorge.

I texted them halfway through AlunaGeorge and they were able to let in us. She was so much fun: the perfect concluding act! I don’t feel like that many people were familiar with her songs, but they were catchy, lively, and caught on quickly with the crowd. The viewing areas were super packed, and there was a lot of wild fist pumping going on. I saw a lot of glitter. There was enough glitter for a lifetime…

And the crowd goes… WILD!

And the crowd goes… WILD!

During her last song, she invited a bunch of people from the private, Low steps viewing areas onto the main stage. I, unfortunately, was not among such elite ranks, and had been taking pictures from the crowd. Oh well! It was super cool to see normal people having some fun onstage – and a very nice closing touch. I actually wasn’t there because I lowkey got tired right before the end and went back to my room to destress. I live in John Jay, and have a nice room facing Low – and was able to get this pretty nice shot of the end of Bacchanal!

Yeah, my view’s pretty swanky. I stuck my camera lens out the tiny amount we’re allowed to open our windows.

Yeah, my view’s pretty swanky. I stuck my camera lens out the tiny amount we’re allowed to open our windows.

My thoughts and reflections?

Overall, getting ~backstage access~ and a ~special pass~ was pretty fun. 9/10 dentists would recommend. If you have the opportunity to get special access to Bacchanal another year – whether that might be being apart of the planning committee, or for one of the publications or performance groups, I’d check it out. It let me experience the event in a really special way, and I’d definitely be open to doing it again. It got me out of my comfort zone, which is what college is all about!

Bacchanal itself was pretty cool! It was my first, and a good first, I think! The music was great, I loved the student openers and the craziness of some of the performers. I’ve never been that much of a party/concert person, but I feel more open to them now after forcing myself to go to Bacchanal.

Whether you got to be apart of the crowd, casually observed from the lawns, or flaked altogether, one thing is sure – Mykki Blanco’s green hair slays for centuries.

~
If you liked these photos, click here to see the full album on the Lion’s Facebook page, all personally shot (unedited – I ain’t got time for that!) by yours truly.