by Karen Tortora-Lee on March 8, 2012
Even casual readers of The Happiest Medium know that when it comes to Company XIV and Austin McCormick I am reduced to a screaming fan-girl. I am older, of course -not a girl, so my screaming is done on the inside (most of the time), but when it comes to this neo-baroque dance ensemble everything about them makes my heart race, my temperature elevate and my eyes tear up. Every time I walk through the doors of the theatre at Bond Street I shiver with antici ————————-pation about what will greet me – for here I have seen the most dazzling pieces of multi-media theatre I have ever experienced. EVER.
This week Company XIV has been holding a workshop where Austin McCormick, Laura Careless and guest instructors have been showing gifted dancers the Company XIV way. I will be moderating a discussion with Austin from 1.15pm-3pm tomorrow, Friday, March 9 at the Company XIV studio at 303 Bond Street, Brooklyn. If you’re free, come on down. If you’re busy – break your plans. Because after you read this, you’ll want to see this man in person.
I was lucky enough to be able to sit in on the workshop Tuesday afternoon and even though I was there for hours the time flew and my mind raced as I was captivated by what I saw unfold before me. This opportunity was like a dream come true – akin to (I can only imagine) being able to go to spring training if you love baseball. It’s watching your idol, your hero, behind the curtain, in the process of creating magic in a way that few ever get to experience.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on March 5, 2012
Every year the Frigid Festival gives us a hangover – of shows, that is! A Frigid Hangover has nothing to do with alcohol but it has everything to do with shots! As in — these shows get one more shot at entertaining audiences.
HORSE TRADE THEATER GROUP
PRESENTS THE
2012 FRIGID HANGOVERS
THE BEST & BRIGHTEST FROM
THIS YEARS FESTIVAL
Horse Trade Theater Group (Erez Ziv, Managing Director, Heidi Grumelot, Artistic Director) is proud to present the third annual FRIGID Hangovers, March 5-10 at The Kraine Theater (85 East 4th Street between 2nd Ave and Bowery). They’re bringing back the best and the brightest from this years festival, so don’t miss your second chance to catch standout performances of the shows below:
FRIGID Hangovers will run March 5-10 at The Kraine Theater. Tickets ($18-$20) may be purchased online at www.FRIGIDnewyork.info or by calling Smarttix at 212-868-4444.
* * *
Stripper Lesbians
Hangover: Mon 3/5 @ 7pm
Evan, a woman’s studies major, is writing a killer senior thesis– by becoming a stripper at her favorite strip club. In between her current girlfriend, a stripper-lesbian, and her ex boyfriend, an unemployed Tisch graduate, Evan dances the line between love and betrayal. A comedy about what it really means to be ‘in love with a stripper’ and what it means to become one.
What we said: Sure, the show is sexy, shows a lot of skin, and has no problem exploring the more intimate moments of the relationship, but Rising Sun’s inherent intelligence as an ensemble ensures that your skin is served up with a side of thoughtful, though-provoking drama which explores the title rather than exploits it.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on March 1, 2012
When you read that the title of a play is as blatant as Stripper Lesbians you might be led to believe that what you are about to see is nothing more than a show which has women in various states of undress (personally or professionally), making out a lot. However, read further to “Rising Sun Performance Company” and your perspective quickly changes. Sure, the show is sexy, shows a lot of skin, and has no problem exploring the more intimate moments of the relationship, but Rising Sun’s inherent intelligence as an ensemble ensures that your skin is served up with a side of thoughtful, though-provoking drama which explores the title rather than exploits it.
So, who are these stripper lesbians of the title?
First there’s Evan (Amanda Berry). She strips, of course, but identifies herself first and foremost as a woman’s studies major. After all, she wouldn’t even be stripping if she wasn’t writing her senior thesis (cleverly titled “Stripper Lesbians”) as an insider’s exposé on what it’s like to be dating a sex worker.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 29, 2012
Man Saved By Condiments by Mary Jo Pehl is a dramatization of the true story of a man whose car went off a bridge while he was on his way to work. With a broke his hip, no cell phone and no one aware of where he was, he survived for five days by eating snow and the packets of condiments he found strewn around the floor of his garbage heap that passes for a car.
The solo show, directed by Bill Stiteler, starts off a bit clumsily as every thought is expressed aloud by Steve (Tim Uren) for the sake of the constructs of the play. While the back story explains that in order to stay sane the man talks to himself the device is somewhat forced for the sake of theatricality. It also doesn’t help that Steve is somewhat unlikable and not particularly introspective. He’s got a chip on his shoulder and (as bits of his life are revealed through the various moments when he’s either talking to himself, chatting with squirrels or railing at God) there’s not much redeeming about him.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 28, 2012
More often than not, when the question of “how do you want to die” comes up the answer is often “in my sleep” or “surrounded by my friends and family”. The hope of most human beings is that, when it’s our turn to check out, we do so peacefully and with someone caring by our side. In David Stallings’ The Stranger To Kindness (directed by Heather Cohn) now playing as part of The 2012 Frigid Festival we see what happens when neither choice is available.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 28, 2012
To say I was “pleasantly surprised” by Slash Coleman‘s solo show Big Plastic Heroes currently playing at UNDER St. Marks as part of the FRIGID Festival is an understatement. All signs pointed to this show being a raucous, self-aggrandizing narcissistic sausage-fest devoted to testosterone-ladened cultural touchstones and overblown Americana. After all, the artwork for the show features Coleman not only as Evel Knievel, but as the Bicentennial edition of Knievel, bedecked in red white and true-blue … superhero cape included. He’s even clutching a football helmet. Yes, the show I expected to see was vastly different than the one which actually unfolded before me. Within the first few minutes “pleasantly surprised” was overtaken by “completely mesmerized”. From there, it only got better.
Writer and performer Slash Coleman is a born storyteller – he has a way of not only captivating his audience but virtually hypnotizing them as his style and cadence allows his story to spring up around him as if by magic. Using no props, no sound effects, and only very subtle lighting cues Coleman seems to need nothing more than his chair and his voice to support his tale.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 27, 2012
Not everyone got the kind of name that looks good on a marquee or sounds good in the sentence ” … and the award for best actor goes to …”. And let’s all just admit it now: no one really knew how to pronounce “Gyllenhaal” till several movies in, and even then it took TWO siblings to get the world to say it properly. Twenty years later Demi Moore still has 50% of the population putting the accent on the wrong syllable.
So. Now imagine that you’re not that famous at all. Nowhere near. And you’re given a name that everyone mispronounces or mistakes for another name upon hearing it. Wouldn’t you change your name too? You would if you were Moe Rosen, writer and performer of I’m Only Explaining This Once, his solo-show currently playing at the Red Room.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 26, 2012
“How long does it take to become a true New Yorker?”
Obviously playwright Chris Harcum goes right for the tough questions in his play, Rabbit Island, currently playing in the Kraine Theatre as part of the 2012 Frigid Festival.
When we first meet Alex (Ethan Angelica) he is nervously pinging around his therapist’s office, a desperate Canadian transplant who simply wants to feel like he belongs in this town. “Some say it’s when you have your first private moment in public …” he goes on to explain, but I would offer that simply unleashing this tirade of neuroses to a therapist qualifies him for at least one click on his “True New Yorker” Punch-card.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 24, 2012
“This is not your father’s burlesque show,” intones host Atlanta Georgia (Marlena Kalm) to the assemblage who stare at the three preening women who are outfitted in sky-high heels, racy bodices and flirty skirts of the schoolgirl-gone-bad-kilt and tutu variety. With glittery winks and flicking hips these three women ooze dangerous sex appeal and edgy one-liners (I’m like a happy meal … I come with toys). They are daring and flirty and dirty and in control – demanding that the squeamish leave the building so that they can get on with the show. “We know how you like it …” they taunt, “And we know why you keep it a secret from Wifey.”
Welcome to Daughters of Lot (written by Alexis Roblan and directed by Rachel Kerry) where the Bible Belt meets the Garter Belt, where Feminism has as many meanings as Eskimos have words for snow and where women run the gamut from young and innocent to young and jaded. If you’re looking for a man here you’ll find him only when he’s being channelled by one of the women, when he’s being serviced (unseen) by one of his daughters backstage, or when you look to your left at the guy sitting next to you.
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by Karen Tortora-Lee on February 23, 2012
The characters of this show may be tiny, a little wooden, and come off as a little stiff but Poe-Dunk: A Matchbox Entertainment is anything but rigid. In fact, this innovative, charming, engaging show by Playlab NYC directed by John Pieza is a lively piece of theatre thanks to the man behind the matches – Kevin P. Hale.
Hale conceived this show which can be though of as a trip at break-neck speed along the autobahn of Edgar Allan Poe works (in the course of an hour over 30 Poe works are mentioned, performed or touched upon). Hale is also the sole performer, voicing all the characters and maneuvering scores of itty-bitty matchstick puppets around their eensy-weensy sets. Don’t worry, though, thanks to a projector every microscopic bit of theatre is visible to the audience and there’s not a bad seat in the house.
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