osf | Dangerous Common Sense

Othello

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival

Othello

by William Shakespeare
directed by Bill Rauch

I know I have seen Othello before, at least a couple of times. But, I never experienced this deliberate, painful story with believable Evil, blinded goodness, and flawed purity. Other Othellos were classic SHAKESPEARE. This was 2018 artistry. I left the theater wondering if Othello‘s tragedy is personal or is the real sadness that racism, dislike of foreigners, faux-Christian superiority and male dominance has changed so little in 400+ years?

Othello (Chris Butler) is certainly flawed and succumbs too completely to Iago’s (Danforth Comins) suggestions of marital infidelity. But, Butler’s Othello is not the bombastic, purely self-important character I’ve been presented with before. He’s trusting, reflective. There are pages of dialog from him and about him I swear were written for this performance. Yes, he makes terrible decisions, but they are recognizable human decisions.

I suspect the nasty racial slurs and the dwelling on Othello’s nationality have been swallowed in other productions to make the play more a great piece of literature focusing on irrational jealousy, suitable for educated audiences. Othello is about misplaced jealously, after all.

But, in Director Rauch’s Othello, the prejudiced-based plotting against the Other, exemplified by, but not solely practiced by, Iago deepens the significance of the production. This show is not the easy moral lesson about avoiding gossip and trusting your wife that other Othellos have been.

Chris Butler, Alejandra Escalante. Photo by Jenny Graham.

There are so many comments about race and nationality. How could I have missed their importance before? I mean, they were there, but it was all about misplaced jealously, wasn’t it?

Furthermore, Rauch and his cast have discovered that none of the characters are true stereotypes of good, mindless evil, and blind protectiveness. I don’t remember hearing the subtitles of personality in other productions, but Rauch’s actors emphasize nuance over comfortable classifications.

Iago shares his cunning schemes not as an irrational one-dimensional crazy person, but as a hurt, vindictive, effective narrow human. Comins gives us a man, not just an archetype, to despise.

Amy Kim Waschke (Emilia) Danforth Comins (Iago). Photo by Jenny Graham.

Audiences for all Othellos must lament Desdemona’s panicked concealment of the symbolic handkerchief’s innocent loss. Yet, I’ve never felt before how reasonable Othello was in his doubts about Desdemona’s purity as I did watching OSF’s scene of repeated questions and dissembling. My God! Othello was not the insanely jealous icon of self-delusion and self-righteousness who I remember.

I’m sure the dismissive xenophobia of the local population, especially the Muslims, has been there before. But, I just haven’t seen it. At least not in a way that made it part of the central weaving of prejudice and unfairness that poisoned Othello’s mission, marriage, and mind.

I especially appreciated a small silent scene, possibly added by Rauch, where the local Muslim official (Barzin Akhavan) unrolls a prayer mat downstage and bows his religious obligations. The dialogue and force of action is about preparation for a public dinner by our Christian characters, but we get to see this quiet act of differentness. Brilliant.

This is no pageant grandly presented in the Elizabethan theater. The simple, but exquisite, set by Christopher Acebo allows Iago to come out and literally touch audience members, to draw us in to his need for to recover from the ego injury of having been passed over for promotion by the dark-skinned Othello. I felt his need to bring down the foreigner and to make Venice great again.

Othello is placed in modern times, almost flawlessly. The location unleashes Acebo. His clean stages always allow the audience to see the action on stage better, and in Othello he has devised ways to make us feel very comfortable and included in the story.

My favorite setting was that of the work-out gym that is used for the serial plotting of the women and the men. You know those series of conversations where people keep meeting each other on the street, saying their lines that move the story, and then disappearing in a rapid succession of “Adieus”? To avoid the street mish-marsh, Acebo created a gym, complete with a wall of big-screen TV’s, where Othello et al naturally came in, worked out, talked, and then moved on to the showers. That’s how people would meet and gossip in 2018!

Chris Butler, Derek Garza, James Ryen, Barzin Akhavan. Photo by Jenny Graham.

The entire cast was excellent. I am particularly fond of people who make small roles memorable without drawing too much attention to their minor part, and so kudos to Richard Elmore for his whistling handyman. (He’s the Duke, too, but much more fun with his box of tools.) I feel the need to applaud Desdemona (Alejandra Escalante), Cassio (Derek Garza), Roderigo (Stephen Michael Spencer), Emilia (Amy Kim Waschke). and Lodovico (James Ryen) — great jobs!

There are two areas which left me flat. First, Othello has an accent that is difficult to understand. Butler delivers it consistently, and I get that it makes him more foreign. But, the accent sounds more like central or south African to me, although I am no expert. In any event, even if it is genuine Moroccan, its distracting. A minor nit.

The other nit is some of the costume designs by Dede M. Ayite. For an elegant dinner Desdemona’s dress is a green thing that looked like it came from someone going to my high school prom in 1967. My theater date complained about Desdemona’s orange pants in another scene. Meanwhile Roderigo is given prominent bulging, pointed crotches for no apparent reason. Maybe he has a problem fitting into the wardrobe, but whatever the cause, the effect is distracting. Nothing is ever made of his endowment so I felt like they showed us a gun in Act I but never fired it. Either the costumes — or Roderigo — need some surgery.

Nits aside, Bill Rauch’s Othello is a masterful performance that exemplifies the uniqueness of the talent and vision of the artists at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. He and his team avoid the simple, single-themed popular approach to Shakespeare’s story. They restore the many detailed narratives and human depths so that Othello is a modern horror.

Play rating:

By Galen|2018-03-03T19:01:35-08:00February 25, 2018|osf, plays|0 Comments

Henry IV, Part 2

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival

Henry IV, Part 2

By William Shakespeare
Directed by Carl Cofield

Daniel Jose Molina as Prince Hal. Photo by OSF/Jenny Graham.

This production is unique in my Ashland experience. Not in a good way. At all.

The Festival is allowing an actor to go onstage who does not know his lines and cannot read them from the script he’s holding on a clipboard.

It is bizarrely unbelievable that this nationally-known repertory theater has hired an actor for a single role which he cannot do. And, they have left him in the role, ruining the play for audiences and destroying the show for the other cast members.

Unfortunately, G. Valmont Thomas, who was originally cast as Falstaff, has not been able to perform since right after opening in early July. OSF decided to cast former Love Boat bartender Ted Lange as the replacement Falstaff, bypassing understudy Tyrone Wilson. According to reports from several company members, Lange was so bad in that pivotal role that the actors demanded that Wilson be made the permanent Falstaff. OSF management agreed, and Lange was given Wilson’s assignment as Northumberland, Snare, and Warwick.

Ted Lange as Issac Washington on the Love Boat. Photo: Wikipedia

These three characters are not major, but are often on the stage moving the story along. Except, Lange is inept and cannot get through a single paragraph of dialogue without screwing up the timing, emphasis, or completely forgetting his lines. So, instead of helping the narrative move, Lange is constantly taking the audience out of the moment and disrupting the rhythm and sense of story.

When we saw the performance the third week of August, Lange ~~should have had a month to learn his part~~. Lange was in his third performance. He doesn’t have any other assignment at OSF, and the people he’s playing aren’t verbose. But, Lange messes up the cadence and makes the show feel junior high school-ish from the first moment he’s on stage. He’s unable to get through his first scene without misspeaking and forgetting words. [8/27/17 – Bill Rauch generously wrote me about this blog and corrected my original statement that Lange had a month to learn his part when I saw the performance. Bill informed me that I saw Lange’s third appearance in the roles.]

After the initial appearance Lange often shows up on stage with a clipboard so he can read from the script to get through his speeches. But, he cannot even read his role without skipping lines and sounding weird.

Lange is around too much to allow any momentum in the show. The performance a waste of audience time and a waste of the tremendous talent elsewhere on stage.

Tyrone Wilson feels completely in charge and comfortable as Falstaff. Daniel Jose Medina as Prince Hal does a fine job, and Jeff King (Henry IV) has excellent moments. Robin Goodrin Nordli has a scene stealing moment, Robert Vincent Frank is a memorable Bardolph, Kimberly Scott is regally rebellious, and, well, all the other actors are the excellent, talented people we have become accustomed to at OSF.

Lange is so bad that the other good acting doesn’t matter. Instead of getting engrossed in the suppression of the rebellion or the maturing of Prince Hal, we kept dreading the next appearance of Lange. When King Henry IV calls out for Lord Warwick to join him, I really thought of standing up up and shouting, “Oh, God. Not Warwick! Anyone but Warwick!” But, I didn’t, and Warwick came on, clipboard in hand, and fumbled through the next scene.

OSF’s response to Lange’s inability to perform is to schedule frequent rehearsals for the company that are supposed to continue until a couple weeks before the show’s closing. Seriously. Think of the cost in money and time to keep Lange in the role. And, so far, the extra rehearsals are not working.

We have heard that Bill Rauch picked Lange because he wanted to keep the ethnic balance of the characters and cast. I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is, that impulse strikes me as patronizing. And, the continued reliance on Lange feels stunningly stupid.

Even if you decide that it’s necessary in a Shakespeare history play to replace one African American actor with another, why pick an LA television actor? Even if all African American company members are completely booked, reach out to an alumnus or a local college actor. Alum Kyle Hayden is in town for other business, for God’s sake. I bet Kyle would be off-book and a fine Warwick inside a week.

Ted Lange must feel awful. He looks sharp on stage. He is bright and animated. He’s directed and won awards (see his Wikipedia page). He’s probably a nice guy.

But at this stage of his career, he is not a capable stage actor. OSF is doing a disservice to him, to the cast, and the audience by allowing him to continue in performance after performance.

While Lange is in the show, Henry IV, Part 2 is unwatchable. Turn your tickets back in.

Play rating: .

By Galen|2017-08-27T09:58:12-07:00August 22, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments

UniSon

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival

Steven Sapp (Poet), Asia Mark (Apprentice)
photo from OSF

UniSon

A new musical by UNIVERSES
Inspired by August Wilson’s Poetry
In association with Constanza Romero
WORLD PREMIERE

UniSon is a brief, brilliant, shotgun wedding between poetry and drama, lubricated into position with just the right amount, and right style, of original music.

UNIVERSES and collaborators pulled off a transformation. Wilson’s original poetry, supplemented by UNIVERSES verses, are used as the dialogue in a coherent, sensible, sensitive narrative.

No longer just words, even vivid words, the views and observations in poems are given context and life by 7 Terrors from the dark parts of the mind of a fictional poet. The Poet, a doppelganger for August Wilson, is the focus of the play and its main character. Those Terrors reveal secret, unsanitized parts of the revered poet’s life.

The set and projections are strokes of genius. The stage is furnished cleanly allowing key elements of the action to grab as much attention as possible. Meanwhile, the multiple projection screens are the best use of that technology that I have seen. They are front-and-center, key to the movement of the story. Sometimes providing the written words of the poet, sometimes displaying appropriate icons, and sometimes providing simple elegance. Always spot on.

The play begins with the poetic words of August Wilson projected, and the dialogue opens with Steven Sapp (the Poet) artistically dispensing bombastic wisdom to Asia Mark (his Apprentice). He bludgeons his assistant with insight. A few pages of heavy Meaningful commentary go by before we wind up at the poet’s funeral and will reading. He bequeaths everything to the Apprentice on the condition that when she locates his trunk of private poems she destroy the contents.

Of course, she doesn’t destroy, but opens, the Poet’s box, unleashing the Terrors. This all happens within the first 10 minutes of the production, but the introduction felt a bit draggy. Maybe I was just worried that the entire 90 minutes was going to be as disconnected and lofty (tending toward pretension) as the first few scenes.

But, my fears of boredom were dispelled by the first spotlighted Terror, Terror #3, played by Kevin Kenerly. Physical energy, depth, emotion took over the stage as Kenerly revealed suppressed worries of the Poet, sounding perfect using the type of verses that had sounded too high minded and ethereal just a minute ago.

It turns out that Kenerly was just the first of 7 master class dialogues unleashed by each Terror in succession. The vignettes illuminate the torments hidden inside the Poet. Together they create a vivid view of a private man.

The acting could not have been better, nor could the work have been better designed. Each character had at least one spotlight moment that built — or revealed — an essential part of the Poet. Each actor made the most of what was written for them and added movement, voice, and feeling. Sapp, Mark, Kenerly were completely right. So were Christiana Clark (Terror #1/Seamstress), William Ruiz (Terror #2/Butcher), Rodney Gardiner (Terror #4/Black Smith), Mildred Ruiz-Sapp (Terror #5/Hunter), Yvette Monique Clark (Terror #6:/Momma), and Jonathan Luke Stevens (Terror #7/Soldier).

Each character, each actor, had seriously impressive scenes. Together the scenes built a seriously impressive story.

And, you keep wondering. How much are the poems, the dialogue, the fears really August Wilson on August Wilson? How close is the whole story to his life? How much of the material did Constanza Romero, Wilson’s widow, provide from Wilson’s own trunk and give to this production? How could she let the verses go public and not destroy the poems, if Wilson’s will mandated that destruction? Thank God she didn’t.

I enthusiastically recommend UniSon as a play, a performance, as poetry, as art. I’d also change a few things. The initial scenes setting up the opening of the Terror trunk are too long and self-important. The audience can get the idea sooner, and the Poet’s stabs of pain foretelling his imminent death are unneeded, or at least weirdly executed.

Then at the will reading we were told that the Apprentice was given the estate on the condition that she burned the contents of the trunk. She didn’t. Nothing happened. The Poet didn’t say anything releasing her from that bond, and the estate didn’t go away. So, I felt like you showed me a gun in Act I and never fired it.

Finally, I am very pleased that the actual performance did not convey the situation described in the Playbill: “… the Apprentice opens the trunk, accidently pulling the Poet from the afterlife.” Nothing in what I saw made the trunk opening a cosmic bar to the afterlife or anything. I am glad I didn’t have to worry about getting the Poet to heaven or hell and could just learn about his life. Please, creative team, do not pick up the tired storyline in a rewrite!

UniSon is a thrill, a triumph, a collaborative win. Even with its few rough edges it rates .

By Galen|2017-04-25T13:08:59-07:00April 25, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments

Hannah and the Dread Gazebo

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival

Hannah and the Dread Gazebo :: Photo OSF

Hannah and the Dread Gazebo
by Jiehae Park
WORLD PREMIERE

At least half of the audience has a wonderful time seeing a fun show with amusing characters. But, make no mistake about what’s amusing: Asian stereotypes speaking pigeon English while committing cultural faux pas that annoy the very “American” 20-something children of the butt of the jokes.

2017 audiences would not put up with a performance whose entertainment value hinged on older African Americans portrayed as lazy Stepin Fetchit’s. That racism would not be considered amusing.

But, apparently it’s still okay to anchor an evening’s laughs on over-emotional, bicycle riding, odd-speaking Asians. It’s especially okay when the play is written by person of Korean heritage.

You can examine stereotypes, make them amusing, and still treat the characters with respect. Last year’s Vietgone! played off the cultural divide of immigrant Asian generations. Vietgone! worked to tell the story of the now-older, immigrant generation, integrating the Old-World myths into a unified family history that that story’s playwright shared with audiences with love, respect, and… yes… humor. (I still remember fondly the Ninja motorcycle fight!)

But, in Hannah, there is no cultural reconciliation. Instead, it’s all about the title character. Quirky-acting Grandmother, Mother, and Dad exist only for Hannah’s self-absorbed attempt to connect to her family and cultural heritage. Over-the-top caricatures come and go as Hannah makes meaning of her family and centuries of Korean heritage… all in the two weeks she has allowed for this revelation, or, if you prefer, in the 90-minute running time of the play. She never seems to catch on to what Dad or anyone else is about unless the storyline also involves her. Korean stuff remains alien and laugh-inducing to the end.

Beyond the racism, the play is simply poorly constructed and written.

It’s another one of those plays so loaded with Symbolism and Meaning that you know you’re a boob for not appreciating the greatness of it all. I confess I struggled. I tried to add meaning to the thin, often-repeated, poorly detailed story of a bear and a tiger. That gem had so much importance, and so much of that importance remains lost on me.

Then there are the great moments of Magical Realism — or of something. One favorite is the dropping of a severed bloody foot into Mother’s hands when she is in a dream scene on a roof. Of course that foot drop gets a laugh because it’s such an absurd piece of physical comedy. But, I am also sure that the oversized bleeding prop had much deep meaning that I need to be educated on. Unfortunately, it was just one of so many MR moments that I really didn’t appreciate fully.

There is an entire semester, if not academic year, that explores the reason for the magpie, rock, and why the females in this particular family have a “wish”. Pretentious hogwash.

Sean Jones

I also need to complain about casting. There are many lines where Sean Jones (Dang, Hannah’s brother) talks about being disoriented in Seoul because everyone looks just like him, so Asian. Well, all the cast in Hannah does look Asian and has Asian surnames, except for Sean. The mismatch between the physical character and his lines is disconcerting. Sean is tall, dark, hairy, and doesn’t have discernibly Asian features (whatever they are). When he bemoans how everyone in Korea looks just like him, you want to see his DNA test to see where Ancestry.com says he really comes from. (In a panel discussion, he explained that he is half Japanese.)

Of course, Sean does an admirable job acting in the role. It’s not his fault that his looks don’t match the script. And, all the other actors are just fine, too. My unhappiness has nothing to do with the onstage talent or the technical aspects of the show.

Finally, let me assure you that although I get only a “C” on the symbolism test, I have an inkling that the play is about Hannah coming to understand her heritage, getting her mother through a depression, and about the family in general. But, Hannah doesn’t do a great job of growing. And, Hannah’s quest has nothing to do why the audience is having a good time. Her search is a cover to allow the racist core to masquerade as art.

Simply, the audience enjoys the performance because of the witty, snarky anti-Asian cartoons that are the foundation of this 90-minute travesty.

I am disappointed, and say Hannah rates .

By Galen|2017-04-23T12:54:51-07:00April 23, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments

Henry IV, Part One

Ashland, Oregon
at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival

Henry IV, Part I :: photo by OSF

Henry IV, Part I
by William Shakespeare

Writing about a performance you saw two months ago gives the “review” a different perspective. I have been slammed and until now unable to spend an hour or so detailing my thoughts of the plays I saw opening weekend. So now I remember only the more important parts of the time I spent in the theater. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it will result in shorter and snappier commentary!

What I don’t clearly remember about Henry IV, I is why I didn’t leave the Thomas Theater a raving fan of the production. I recall that it was a very, very good, solid, and credible experience. But, I didn’t feel I’d experienced a revelation.

Now when I tell others about the evening, I am all praises. Strange?

Daniel Molina (Prince Hal) feels like a genuine rebellious, thoughtless young adult who realistically grows to understand his responsibilities… while at the same time being still willing to shirk his duties late in the play. Molina is more subtle and naturally slackerly than other Prince Hal’s I’ve seen. His Hal is a fit for 2017.

The East Cheap scenes work as real-life happenings and not just as the mandatory comic relief that Shakespeare writes in to amuse us stinkards in the pit. Hal’s playmates are are as genuine-feeling as he is in their self-centered hedonism.

G. Valmont Thomas (Falstaff) is both physical and intricate — a really good job. Michele Mais (Mistress Quickly) is a happy, slutty force of nature, and the other slum dwellers feel like real pranksters gone bad.

I will complain about the blocking in bar scenes. My seat in the corner of first row and a few other seats around the house were too close to the action. The actors would have been fine sitting and drinking where they were, if I hadn’t needed to put my legs somewhere. And, I don’t mean I wanted to stretch my legs out, I just needed to put them on the floor in front of me. As it was, I turned sideways to avoid disaster. I saw the opening show, and I don’t know if the space is still a problem. But, I spent way too much time worrying about whether the scenery was going to roll over my foot or whether I was going to trip a passing actor.

But, back to the good stuff. Jeff King was superb as Henry IV. His simultaneous struggle with — and belief in — Prince Hal were transparent and logical. I felt like I was watching a family and not an important Shakespeare history play. King felt consistent, realistic, and every bit the man who righteously deposed Richard II in the prior chapter of the saga.

I also liked the treatment of the gender-blind casting. I appreciated the switch in nouns when women were cast in key roles. Talking about “your aunt” instead of “uncle” and using “her” instead of “him” just seemed more natural and required one less bit of identification and translation for the audience.

The overall set design was clean and spacious (even if a bit too roomy for the actors and cramped for me). I liked how the action centered in different areas and moved around the room. Costumes, lighting, and other crafts were all good.

Talking about the play now, applauding so many of the pieces, I realize that all the components are excellent. Still, there is no spark that takes you completely out of the moment and shows you something you never realized before.

Maybe at three hours it needed tightening for our Twitter-addicted brains. A few less lines about the battles and bloodlines, maybe snappier delivery, or something.

As it is, Henry IV, Part I is definitely quality and credible. Worth seeing.

Still it’s only .

By Galen|2017-04-23T17:10:02-07:00April 22, 2017|osf, plays|0 Comments

Previous 678 Next