CULTUREPHILE: PORTLAND ARTS

Portland Opera’s Ravel Couplet: L’Heure Espangnole and L’Enfant et les Sortileges

A cheating wife and a sulking child get what they deserve in this cheeky double-header. Reviewed by Anne Adams and Melanie Glass.

Posted by: The Culturegang on Apr 04, 2011 at 10:30AM 0 Comments

Fancy a night at the opera? Can’t find a babysitter? Have no fear, Ravel is here. With only three more performances of L’Heure Espangnole (The Spanish Hour) and L’Enfant et les Sortileges (The Child and the Spells), you can plan a family outing and hustle down to the Newmark Theatre for a night of culture. Both works in this Maurice Ravel couplet address the human condition with a light touch, and each ends with a relatively straightforward moral.

L’HEUR…
Moments after the clockmaker’s wife Concepción scoots her husband Torquemada out the door to tend to the village clocks, the strong, silent muleteer Ramiro stops by to get his watch fixed, and decides to wait the hour it will take for the clockmaker to return. Concepción (every bit as scheming as her name implies) had planned to entertain lovers in her husband’s absence. Now thwarted, she must improvise. She hides her lovers in grandfather clocks, and enlists Ramiro’s help to hoist them up to and fro on the stairs that lead to her bedroom. Between innuendos about how her husband can no longer get it up*, and her mounting frustration with one suitor’s recitations of poetry and the other’s social awkwardness, Concepción finally takes notice of the strong, silent muleteer (a serviceable beast of burden, as implied by his trade). “Among lovers, only the effective one counts…every muleteer gets his turn,” the closing line opines, less an indictment of infidelity, than of some women’s frivolous failure to reward workhorse types.

Daryl Freedman plays Concepción with a flair that conjures Minnie Driver’s Carlotta in Phantom of the Opera, appropriately upstaging Matthew Hayward (the Muleteer)’s Portland Opera Debut. Despite tackling such a high-maintenance character, Freedman remains consistent and on-point throughout.

Everything and everyone in this opera is over-the-top, and you really got the sense that—all rigors of opera singing aside—everyone is letting loose and having a good time. The blocking is particularly buoyant, with moments of slapstick and plenty of opportunities to show off the cast’s kinetic chemistry.

But the most nuanced humorist of the bunch is Steven Brennfleck as the poet Gonzalve, foppishly gazing at the page and making self-important gestures while virtually ignoring his supposed muse. Brennfleck’s crisp wit serves as a great complement to his lovely tenor.

*Despite a touch of blue humor, the opera overall remains family friendly. Children should be distracted enough by the ridiculous sight of the muleteer hoisting giant clocks, that they won’t attempt to decipher the meaning behind a drooping fan.

L’ENFANT…
The second opera opens with a lone child on the floor, foot-long oversized pencil in hand, backdropped by somber black and white. (Between this production and last November’s Hansel & Gretel , Portland Opera seems to have mastered a particular brand of cartoonish-yet-bleak aesthetic.) The child throws a tantrum and destroys his room—but is shocked when the toys, furniture and paintings begin to come to life, and each one confronts him. (Here, the oversized, animated props evoke Brave Little Toaster or Beauty and the Beast.) An angry clock whom the child has doomed to constantly chime by breaking its pendulum, tells him its tale of woe. A thwarted storybook princess who will never be rescued because the temperamental enfant ripped her book to shreds, berates him. When he tries to escape, animals ambush him in his own garden. Like a child Ebenezer Scrooge, he’s eventually haunted into better behavior, and ends up repentantly running to his mother, crying, “Maman! Maman!”

Though less “adult friendly” than L’Heur, this opera should draw applause from parents hoping to reinforce the golden rule. Certain details, especially the onstage costume-changes and some esoteric references (a bug from the garden admonishing the boy for taking his wife and pinning her to a board, for instance) might confuse young viewers, but the overall message comes across.

Though the role seems to be loosely defined as a “boyish” one, Hannah S. Penn, an adult, plays the child. A technically excellent mezzo-soprano, her obvious talent exceeds her suitability to this particular role. Children will have an easier time than adults suspending their disbelief and seeing her as a “boy.” (Hopefully, more womanly roles are also in store for this promising Studio Artist Program grad.) Daryl Freedman, meanwhile, returns to the stage as “Mama,” but the nurturing character stands in such sharp contrast to the coquettish Concepción, the audience may have a hard time recalibrating its expectations.

Considering Portland Opera’s recent expansion of school outreach, and a current season with two kid-centric stories, it seems we’ll be seeing more of the all-ages opera. Luckily, this Ravel pairing has a little something for everyone.

Portland Opera’s Ravel couplet runs through Saturday. For more about Portland arts events, visit PoMo’s Arts & Entertainment Calendar, stream content with an RSS feed, or sign up for our weekly On The Town Newsletter!

Add a Comment »

Tags: Opera, children

Review: On The Eve of Friday Morning

Fruit, nuts, and Persian food-for-thought from Oregon Children’s Theater.

Posted by: Anne Adams on Mar 15, 2011 at 06:00PM 0 Comments

Bust out the basmati and pop open a pomegranate; Sunday is Nowruz, Persian New Year. Probably not coincidentally, it’s also closing night for Oregon Children’s Theater’s latest play, set in Iran. On The Eve Of Friday Morning, penned by Washington DC high school teacher Norman Allen and sponsored in part by Portland’s Ziba Design, is an offering that clearly seeks to enlighten as well as entertain. The Winningstad lobby is adorned with festive décor, and show-goers are even given a traditional Persian parting snack of dried fruit and nuts. Here are some other memorable takeaways:

THE MESSAGE
The minute Nassrin bursts onstage, over a blast of Iranian hiphop, she blurts out what must be the key point: “I do not live in ‘the axis of evil!’”
Having gotten that off her chest, she begins to reintroduce the audience to her homeland Iran, explaining that it was formerly known as Persia, a land of poetry, music, and art. But the contemporary Iranian government—far less prone to poetry—has imprisoned her father for the possession of banned books. “Depending who you ask, I’m the daughter of a hero, or the daughter of a criminal,” she observes.

So which is it? Is Iran a bastion of rich culture, or a seat of cultural oppression? Yes. This play wastes no time unveiling a tough truth, seeming to say, Honey, it’s a big world, with good and bad and in-between guys. It’s complicated.

But in Persia, we’re told, paradoxes are nothing new. In place of “Once upon a time,” Nassrin’s mother explains, Persian storytellers customarily start with, “There was one and there was none. Except for god, there was no one.” (To my ear, this rings similar to the Biblical passage, “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with god, and the word was god.”) As she speaks the traditional phrase, an ancient folktale begins to unfold on the other side of the stage. Guided by an orphan boy and a travelling storyteller, we’re transported to ancient times. Dried fruit, nuts, and jewels are the currency, and turbaned day-laborers genuflect to royalty. Peasants and a princess are assigned their fates by mysterious gods. Eventually, a message materializes: Be satisfied with what you have. Share what you have. And also share your stories—in Persian tradition, they’re considered part of your wealth.

THE TALENT
Refreshingly (and in contrast to the last OCT piece Culturephile covered), this play puts child actors front and center—and we’re pleased to report that they earn it! Maya Caulfield as Nassrin, and Jordan Karlous as Bahad, both bring maturity, subtlety, and poise to their respective roles. When they interact, they also manage to nail the preteen girl-boy love-hate dynamic. Nassrin is the more confident character, bounding around the stage, holding up an index finger to drive home her bold declarations. Bahad, meanwhile, is more “ah-shucks,” with a bit of a slouch and a layer of sarcasm not quite masking a simmer of sensitivity. Even the offstage god-voice of Mushkil Gushad is left to a child actor (one of the understudies?) who dispatches it with excellent inflection. These child performances offer enough pep to engage younger kiddies, and enough edge to keep adults intrigued.

Meanwhile, competent grown-up actors hold supporting roles. Matt Dieckman (whom we last saw in Imago’s brilliant wordless thriller Stage Left Lost) plays Baba Kharkan, a day-laborer who catches a stroke of luck and becomes a nobleman. As Naqqal the storyteller, Andrew Garrettson interjects with warm, wise tones and narrates the story without overbearing. Curious Comedy regular Laura James plays a mirror-gazing, silly Persian Princess that reflects a better-known archetype: Alice In Wonderland’s Queen of Hearts. Meanwhile, Dré Slaman bears up under the heaviest dramatic load as Nassrin’s modern-day Mother, smuggling banned books under her chador (more on that later) while running interference between the oppressive government, her radical husband, and her impatient daughter. These adults keep the plot progressing and set the overall tone, but allow the kids’ stars to shine.

THE SETTING
The set starts out as a span of sand-colored, ancient-looking architecture, but as the story unfolds, bolts of silk unfurl, enveloping the setting and the characters in sparkling, soft billows. It’s simultaneously a celebration of the native textiles, and a demonstration of the way stories enrich the bland day-to-day landscape.

THE GARB
Lest it seem odd that an article of clothing should get its own callout, consider this: Adults will likely see Nassrin’s mother’s chador, which obscures everything but her face and hands, for what it is, a customary costume that an Iranian woman wears outside the home. But for westernized children, it’s bound to generate discussion. As in, “Mommy, why is Nassrin’s mommy wearing a black blanket!” Donning and doffing the costume each time she comes and goes from home, Nassrin’s mom enacts a routine almost as accessible as Mister Rogers changing from his sport-coat into his cardigan. Kids will quickly come to realize that there is a “regular lady” under the black blanket—a worthwhile acclimation.

Happy Persian New Year, Portland. And here’s hoping in between eager chomps of nan, you leave room for this entrancing fable, as well as the broader cultural conversation it’s likely to kickstart with your kids.

For more about Portland arts events, visit PoMo’s Arts & Entertainment Calendar, stream content with an RSS feed, or sign up for our weekly On The Town Newsletter!

Add a Comment »

Tags: Theater, children, international

Review: Alice & Wonderland

Oregon Children’s Theatre version of the Carroll classic begs for less speed, more ’shroom—and more breathing room.

Posted by: Anne Adams on Nov 01, 2010 at 06:00AM 6 Comments

Dave Cole stars as a rockin’ rabbit.

“Is it over yet?” piped a child’s voice as Alice finished exuberantly belting that she was “Bored! Bored! Bored!” But it was far from over; in fact, Alice had yet to even fall down the rabbit hole. Fast, loud, and colorful, this musical played on like a human firework show, while I suppressed a strong urge to sneak the kid out for ice cream, and reappear in an hour.

Imagine the sparse, scaffold-style staging of RENT, combined with costumes the Mickey Mouse Club might wear to Burning Man, and a live band playing a relentless onslaught of fast-paced prog-rock with a few new-country twangs. Imagine there’s no speaking, only singing, and no pausing, only rocking. Older kids are mildly amused, but some little kids are pretty confused, and many of the lovable aspects of musical theater get lost in the frenetic mix. That said, there’s nary a bad performer in the bunch; in fact, there are several standouts:

The White Rabbit (Dave Cole, last heard doing justice to Van Morrison numbers in local rock ballet Find Me Beside You ) has a beautiful husky croon, and is an able live guitarist. He hits the script’s few moods with the perfect timing and tone.

The Tweedles Dee and Dum are charming and memorable, in part because they’re lucky: their scene uses the only representational “set” (a beach-scape for their Walrus & Carpenter recitation), and their song, a Caribbean number, forces a slower pace than some of the others. Dee (Eric Little) hits the production’s penultimate high note, and Dum (Tyler Andrew Jones) has a pretty face and a riveting presence. (Having seen Jones in drag before–as Angel in RENT–I think I’d probably even enjoy him as Alice.)

The Queen’s regal bearing carries her nicely through her brief scene, the Cheshire Cat has an awesome grin, and the Caterpillar choreography—a train-style ensemble number with synchronized arm movement—is awfully cute. Humpty Dumpty and the Mock Turtle make a particularly valiant effort to emote and enunciate, and vie for the title of Mr. Personality.

Sarah Catherine Wheatley’s Alice, while not my taste, echoes strongly of Miley Cyrus’ Hannah Montana, the wildly successful kiddie rock star. So, like it or not, she’s probably doing something right.

Then what’s wrong?

1. Well, on Saturday afternoon, there seemed to be a problem with the sound. Some vox were shorting out, or at least suddenly dropping in volume. I imagine among the hundred switches and sliders, something should be reset: maybe the compression? Maybe merely the relative levels? Or maybe everyone’s headpiece needs to be taped tighter, so it can’t jiggle around? I don’t know. Try everything. These glitches were noticeable.

2. Songs flat-out went too fast. Drummer Dave Muldoon is either a hero for keeping the pace, or a culprit for setting it, on this hurtling speedwagon of a musical. Either way, all the musicians could stand to slow their roll, giving actors more room to ham it up. My guess is, more lyrics would get heard, and the characters would come through stronger. (Think Rocky Horror. Antici…pation.)

3. The most captivating moments were not the wacky ensemble numbers, but whenever a single element was introduced—from the inert paper-lantern moon, to each new character. But these focal points and narrative milestones were too quickly swept along in a hubbub of busy blocking and backup-dancing.

4. Even if star performers were allowed more leeway, there’d still be a lot missing from this version of the story. Alice never changes sizes, never has arguments, never fully delights or despairs. At best, this is an Alice-themed rock concert, and not a play. (More’s the pity that the songwriting isn’t stronger.) I, for one, wished for more of a story arc, and I’m sure a lot of kids will feel the same. To them, I recommend The Little Prince over at Shaking The Tree. But for kids who revel in fast-paced, loud, lighthearted sensory overload, this one may be just the ticket.

The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it. “No room! No room!” they cried out when they saw Alice coming. "There’s plenty of room," said Alice indignantly, and she sat down….

~Lewis Carroll

Add a Comment »

Tags: Literature, Theater, music, children,

Review: The Little Prince

Shaking The Tree presents The Little Prince, a delicate allegory that’s never been just for kids.

Posted by: Anne Adams on Oct 25, 2010 at 12:00PM 2 Comments

Annabel Cantor charms as the iconic interstellar wanderer in The Little Prince.

The popular 1942 illustrated French book The Little Prince must be familiar to many Portlanders—heck, it must have inspired a dozen local tattoos. But though much beloved, it’s not a narrative that seeks to satisfy. Instead, it’s the kind of tale that strikes a tuning fork in the hollows of the heart, letting its echoes explore the empty space. Ah, l’ennui. The most prized French export beside champagne.

Philosophy

From the Little Prince, we learn:

The king’s perspective is pointless; he deludes himself about his dominion. The businessman’s perspective is pointless; he numbers among his assets things that he can neither use, nor caretake. The workman has become an unquestioning slave to ever-hastening external demands, and can never rest.

The main item of good news is that these are all “grown up” problems, and becoming a grownup, the text asserts, is preventable. One needs to carefully maintain a child’s mind, to see beyond the BS. “What is essential,” we’re told, “is invisible to the eye.”

To oversimplify this content for children’s theater, is probably a big temptation—but would also ultimately be a shame. Thank goodness Shaking The Tree has made the effort to get it right.

Cast

As the Little Prince, Annabel Cantor strikes several nice balances. Her stage presence is completely gender-neutral, and her body language easily slips between playful and proud, as befits a little prince. Her excellent delivery of the material itself, and her undeniable cuteness in a curly wig, prove she’s primed for her next role as Annie at Northwest Children’s Theater. Unable to be fazed, she even corrected a dialogue slip-up by costar Erich England on Sunday, without missing a beat.

As the Aviator, England serves as narrator, and worldly straight-man to the Little Prince’s otherworldly mystique. But you don’t get the sense (as you might from the script alone) that he’s fighting very hard to be a rational adult, “concerned with matters of importance.” While trying to decide whether the word “amateur” would ring too harsh for England, I scoped his bio. Looks like this is his second production, and his main avocation is rock climbing—so, “amateur” is apt. He coasts through the role in a dreamlike languor, but he’s a believable dreamer, and brings warmth and sensitivity to the role.

Phillip Cuomo, in contrast, is a veteran, (Artists Rep, Third Rail Rep, Imago and more) and the production heaps demands upon him accordingly. Cuomo plays all the characters the prince meets on his interstellar journey, and then resurfaces as the fox the prince tames on earth. While the former four roles seem like they could be making a philosophical point (“all grownups are the same”), seeing him emerge yet again as a fox strains the suspension of even a small child’s disbelief. Fortunately, he effects each role with a different voice and with a slightly clownish, child-favoring flair, giving little ones something to enjoy, whether or not they’re catching the philosophical point.

Megan Sky Hale (Imago/Theater Vertigo alum) plays two roles, rose and snake, with grace, but she brings the most convincing carriage to the latter. She wears menacing and hypnotic, better than coquettish. (And from this reviewer, that is a compliment.)

Tech

This play comes with major staging challenges, most notably: how do you show space travel? The single stationary set with varied lighting actually does a pretty admirable job of showing both a planetary, and a terrestrial desert landscape. And costumes which ingeniously come with their own “planets” attached, help sell the story.

Costumer Rachelle Waldie (of AEQUANIMITAS) wisely chose to bring Exupery’s illustrations to life, outfitting the Little Prince in bright colors and crisp dandy details like brass buttons, broad collars, and fitted darts. Fans of the drawings will be delighted by the faithful reproduction. Other characters are dressed suitably for their various roles; some looks are cartoonish, and others workaday. An additional bugaboo, talking flowers and plants, has been deftly dispatched with unique designs, such as the snake costume, which frees the actress’s arms to serve as graceful, slithering snake-puppets, even as her whole body is also attired as a hooded cobra.

Shaking The Tree doesn’t mind trusting tikes with big tasks, as evidenced by the production’s lighting tech, eleven-year-old Jasper Jenkins. As far as Culturephile could tell, he was riding the sliders for the whole show, and he delivered the best kind of lighting performance: the kind you can take for granted.

In a couple spots, Culturephile wished for more. A pair of ears, or a snout, or both, would’ve been a welcome addition to the fox character, to disguise a face we’d seen already. Some sort of lines on the page of the aviator’s sketchpad, would have sold the illusion better than total blanks. And while quieter sound is generally preferred for an all-ages crowd, a tad more volume for ostensibly noisy elements (like the airplane) and some sort of whooshing sound effect for the Prince’s simulated space flight, would have sounded more convincing.

Lasting Impressions

This story wins the day because it makes the heaviest and most complex emotions feel playful and accessible. It says profound and humbling things about the nature of intimacy (“If you tame me, we shall need each other” [said the fox] “To me, you will be unique in all the world…. First you must sit down at a little distance from me…but you will sit a little closer to me every day.”) It echoes ancient beliefs about death and afterlife (“I cannot carry this body with me…it will be like an old abandoned shell…there’s nothing sad about old shells.”) And, in a surprise twist that jerks the most parental tears, it offers a stunning insight: the little prince has tamed the big aviator, and not the other way ’round.

For a more comprehensive list of upcoming events, visit the Arts & Entertainment Calendar anytime!

Add a Comment »

Tags: Art, children, comics, book, book, Review, Theater, Literature, Portland Art, outer space

TBA 2010: tiny tba
w/ Greasy Kid Stuff

Last night, The Works hosted Tiny Dances.
This morning, tiny dancers!

Posted by: Anne Adams on Sep 12, 2010 at 01:00PM 0 Comments

Tykes get the wiggles out, at a kiddie disco party complete with live DJ’s.

View Slideshow » Illustration:

Tykes get the wiggles out, at a kiddie disco party complete with live DJ’s.

View Slideshow » Illustration:

Culturephile snapped a few shots; see if you can spot your little friends!

View Slideshow » Illustration:

PoMo copy editor Margaret Seiler encourages daughter Jane. “She’s a natural breakdancer,” Seiler reports.

View Slideshow » Illustration:

Culturephile snapped a few shots; see if you can spot your little friends!

View Slideshow » Illustration:

Culturephile snapped a few shots; see if you can spot your little friends!

Those kids and their hiphop. Today at the Greasy Kid Stuff-hosted kids’ disco, while Bhangra rhythms got the party started, it was Secret Agent 23 Skidoo’s I Gotta Be Me, complete with a call-response chorus, that really got ’em grooving. “I gotta be me!” the kids yelled. And their enlightened parents smiled approvingly.

Meanwhile, in the next classroom, selections from The Young People’s Film & Video Festival held kids’ and parents’ attention, with, among other works, a super-cute child-crafted-and-narrated series of claymation shorts, illustrating concepts like the seasons and the water cycle. (Kudos, Liz Randall, Davis Elementary’s filmmaker-In-residence.)

Back on the dance floor, Ribbit Ribbit coaxed parents and toddlers to hop around like frogs (and sounded much more “street” with the recording’s hiphop beat).

But a quick “time out”: While kids don’t require much in the way of ambience, parents who were promised a space “transformed into an all-ages lounge” may have been dismayed to find an ordinary, brightly-lit classroom as the de facto discotheque.

Meanwhile, the “soft room”—with walls thickly lined with shaggy strips of repurposed fabric, set in a rainbow spectrum—looked pretty splendid, and big pillows on the floor offered a promising flop-space. But what should have been a stimulating kid-friendly environment, stimulated one of the wrong senses: it smelled. A picky parent would have to wonder whether the used fabrics had been laundered—which might explain why no kids were kickin’ it in the soft room when Culturephile stopped by.

For more information on TBA events, visit PICA. A more comprehensive list of upcoming events can be found at our Arts & Entertainment Calendar.

Add a Comment »

Tags: performance, Family Fun, performance art, TBA, TBA 2010, The Works, children

Tender Loving Empire
Showcases Soft-Sculpture

Kelly Rundle’s heart-melting felt, plus musical guests!

Posted by: Anne Adams on Sep 02, 2010 at 12:00AM 0 Comments

These skates could roll all over your tender li’l heart. Rundle’s soft-sculpture will be showing at TLE throughout September.

Love Always (solo project of Kathy from The Thermals) and Woodwinds (solo project of boppin’ redhead hottie Megan Spear, of Jared Mees & The Grown Children) will provide the live backing tracks for the opening night of Kelly Rundle’s cozy soft-sculpture show at the headquarters of local record label and craft-curio carrier, Tender Loving Empire (412 SW 10th Avenue). Surrender to the benevolent power of Tender Loving Empire. TLE will hug and kiss and never hurt you.

Culturephile can only feature a few First Thursday picks, but for a more comprehensive list of upcoming events, visit the Arts & Entertainment Calendar!

Add a Comment »

Tags: Galleries, sewing, folk art, galleries, folk, northwest, TLE, portland, crafts, First Thursday, Crafts, children