DUSTY MIRROR

IT IS A MOMENTOUS OCCASION...when the President of the United States visits New York to specifically pay tribute and remember the victims and survivors of the September 11th, 2001 attack on New York, the Pentagon and the sky over Pennsylvania. Taking a moment to reflect on the historic event that took place a few days ago, it is neither a day of joy or celebration, but a moment of triumph over despair. The work by so many, evident in the green of the trees at the World Trade Center site, is a testament to the resiliency of a united people who want only peace, but who have been provoked by acts of war. What has happened must never be forgotten. The dust has been removed from the mirrors. May we see ourselves and each other as a nation on Earth free to civilly disagree without resorting to violence and chaos. May our debates going forward be tempered by the unity we feel as human beings at this moment. Let us show the world that differences will not tear us apart. On the contrary, let them solidify the faith we have in Freedom.

DAKAI ROCKS NATIONAL UNDERGROUND

Not talking about a new group of subversives, but an exciting duo from Williamsburg Brooklyn creating music in New York City. Definitively not your pre-teen's goth band. Though influences of acts like Nine Inch Nails won't go unnoticed, unlike NIN, DAKAI seduces with a feather touch rather than a jackhammer.

The set kicked off with a slow driving "Heaven and Hell" and never looked back. The stunning Leela provided power packed vocals with a blend of raw sensuality and skill while Dirty Soul supplied everything else in an electronic repertoire wall of sound masterfully constructed.

Sultry, haunting lyrics and melody of "Little Boy" bounced off the stone basement vault of this Lower East Side performance hole transporting its audience deep into the twisted mind and dirty soul of a boy hanging out in some graveyard looking for thrills.

Hypnotic numbers like "The Uncertainty Principle" and "Shocking" cast a spell that can calm raging madness or incite a riot in your psyche.

The show ended with an apocalyptic "Motherland Blues" with its reverberating question of "Whose God is gonna save us now?"

The band plans on playing future dates at venues in our area. Stay tuned for details and definitely check them out.

http://www.myspace.com/dakaimusic

DAKAI TONIGHT

You may not have heard of them yet...but DAKAI is coming. Tonight at National Underground 159 E Houston Street at 9:30 PM the first NYC performance of this exciting new duo....DAKAI.

COME WITH ME...

March: Out Like a Hunter Colt

March was a break out month for theater going. We began with a deconstruction of Tennessee Williams by the Wooster Group and a revival of his work by the Roundabout, Vieux Carre, and The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore respectively, sandwiched between was HERE and the experimental Feeder: A Love Story (pun intended). We followed those up with Beautiful Burnout and Room by the SITI Company, not finished by a long shot we then saw CSC’s Double Falsehood and finally War Horse at Lincoln Center.

This past month of theater, surely enough to make any Greek proud, was a most intense and delightfully rewarding experience.

War Horse, being the most spectacular effort with special emphasis on the word “spectacle”, is a performance which needs to be seen to be truly explained. Suffice to say it is not beyond my power to describe, yet I would rather you see it for yourself. With such notables in attendance the night we went as Donald Rumsfeld and Betsy Gottbaum and that announcer guy Allan Kalter from the Letterman Show, we certainly were in some high profile company. Rummy sat in the first row center on the aisle. I didn’t notice him until the second act started, but by the end of the play, he was weeping too.

Let me just say this work does not judge or glorify war, but depicts it in all its savage and heroic complexity of moral ambiguity. War is hell for man and beast. Beast proves more praiseworthy than man does by the end.

From our near vantage point we suffered some obscured sight lines, but we were treated to intimate performances by the enormous cast and got to see the wires and woodcraft of some amazing puppets. War Horse will move anyone who loves equestrian arts.

April now begins cool and clear. It is a cruel month, “breeding Lilacs out of the dead land mixing memory and desire.” As Poetry month kicks off hopefully this tragic fire season will come to an end in New York City.

War Horse plays through June.

A Room of One's Own...

Ellen Lauren in Room

Directed by Anne Bogart, if you want to see Viewpoints in action go see Room at The Women’s Project. A meticulous physical performance combined with a cerebral interpretation of the late great Virginia Woolf in all her glory of mad genius. The performance is hypnotic and inspiring. You will not be unmoved. As an aspiring novelist, I was uplifted by the gifts of text delivered with laser-like precision by the masterful Ellen Lauren. What a treasure, a must see for all who count themselves artists in the post modern world. Friends who are interested, we have a half price ticket offer we’d be happy to share. Contact me for details. Life is so good, three shows in the last week, three worth while experiences and we are not finished with the month of March yet…

They Call Me Mac...

St Ann’s Warehouse presents
Frantic Assembly
National Theatre of Scotland

Beautiful Burnout
Text by Bryony Lavery
Directed and Choreographed by
Scott Graham and Steven Hoggett.









Anyone who has had padded leather fists thrust into his or her face and tasted his or her own blood in his or her mouth will immediately identify with the electric performance delivered by the stellar cast of Beautiful Burnout. For those who abhor the “sweet science” for the barbaric and ultimately cruel element of humanity it deifies, you will identify with the electric performance delivered by the stellar cast of Beautiful Burnout.

The folks who brought us the amazing Black Watch a few seasons ago have triumphantly returned to Brooklyn with a piece inspired by a visit to our own Gleason’s Gym. This amazingly accurate and unglamorous look at the world of a boxer from humble roots, to sweaty gym, to goals inspired by lofty ambitions and finally bitter reality, is a one hour and forty minute piece that will engage your senses from start to finish.

One of the many highlights is a movement piece where every gesture a boxing referee might make is choreographed into an absolutely sublime dance to which even a novice of the square ring can relate and admire.

I could go on at length about my love/hate relationship with boxing, how many of its core disciplines represent the best values of humanity, but how, like anything pure and good humans strive for, the attraction of our darker natures seems to be exponentially magnified as well. Attention to detail in story telling is paramount to this production: Fact. Science and social nature entwine in this tragic tale of heroes and heroines, mentors and men-tees, obedience and rebellion. Definitely worth the trip to the Brooklyn waterfront. Now through the 27th. In DUMBO

My own brief incursion into boxing happened many years ago inspiring a one-person show performed in the Knitting Factory once upon a time...once upon a time they called me Mac...

ROLL WITH THE PUNCHES
By Mark D Ransom

He stands
As if an alabaster David
With padded gloves fixed to wrists
Like cudgels on arms of old.

Young, strong, determined and
Alone against his foe, his fear,
He woos a maddened crowd
Cheering for a champion
Shouting for redemption
Hollering for Blood.

Smoke rises above the din,
Rules of engagement are exchanged
Like mean pleasantries,
Before a harsh alarm rings
And two combatants begin.

He moves.
Sinuous muscle wrought in
Furnaces of pain,
Sweat, anger and guile
Sweetly fly into motion
Defying science as
Living, moving, grunting
Art.

Driven through crushing blows
Never to surrender
With a pounding heart

He falls.
Broken like Achilles,
Laurels, limelight and spoils of
Victory elude his reach
For yet another day.

He sits
Alone and exhausted,
Empty upon a heavy canvas
His essence flows
Like color from brush strokes
Painting yet
Another saga of sorrow
Pain and Hope

FEEDER: A Love Story HERE

As you enter the theater at HERE, the first thing you notice is a partition which has been partially demolished next to a closed door. You may, as you walk past this set piece, peer through that opening to notice a hospital bed with someone in it. As you round the corner to find a seat you will undoubtedly note that indeed, Jesse, played by Jennifer-Conley Darling is pre-set in the bed, she is a feedee who has gone immobile in her quest to weigh 1000 lbs. That is to say, she is willfully gaining weight with the aid of her husband and feeder, Noel played by Pierre-Marc Diennet. You will also notice that you have little or no information in your program about the play you are about to experience.


This is not an oversight. (A link to a PDF will be provided after the show.) A web-log of the characters is available on line. If you have not checked it out before coming to the theater, there is a MAC set up in the lounge where you can read Noel’s blog entries or watch him on video. You will notice the playing space demarcated by long slender tables which look like a pantry stocked with cans of Goya beans and frozen pizza boxes neatly arranged and stacked. You also notice television monitors suspended from the ceiling. Cameras trained on the players have been planted through out the set. The only thing you can not do is ignore the 750 lb woman in the room, or the device stored in a corner used to lift her from the bed so sheets can be changed.

Director José Zayas has taken James Carter’s script and run it through a production team which includes scenic design by Peter Ksander and Video & Projection Design by Alex Koch who may well have changed the way we experience Black Box Studio Theater forever. Their work alone is worth the price of admission. Unfortunately, though the acting was first rate excellent, the play seems to take on too many topics at once.

The issue of the play is the fringe fetish of Feederism, a practice where-by one enjoys sexual gratification from feeding their partners in a foodie version of dominance and submission. Mealtime becomes foreplay, and this couple doesn't just play with their food, they fuck with it. Complicating this sensual pleasure are facts like Noel’s predilection for women of size, and Jesse's willingness to become totally dependent on Noel for even her most basic needs perhaps pointing to a problem with low self esteem.

The couple meets on line. This is where the entire theme of technology continues, for it truly begins when you open your promotional e-mail and become attracted to the provocative photo of a woman reclining on red satin sheets surrounded by a sumptuous feast or when you Google "feederism" or perhaps check out the web-log where you may find out that Noel is not only a dominant feeder, but also a webmaster of many fetish sites including a few he develops after he begins his relationship with Jesse in order to support their "Lifestyle" making him a true celebrity in this loosely connected virtual community.

The inciting action takes place when a former employer of Jesse's, a television show host/producer who seems to be a cross between Oparh and Nancy Grace, stages an intervention and literally breaks Jesse out of the apartment she shares with Noel through the wall. The characters tell their story to cameras, Noel on webcasts and Jesse to Judith who is doing a feature documenting Jesse’s recovery. Interspersed there are flashbacks of Jesse and Noel’s life together, their courtship, wedding, and their huge plans for Jesse to become the biggest woman in the world.

In the end the premise is never fully explored or expressed, instead all we get is the sensationalized Jerry Springer-esque detritus which results from the slanted, edited media exposure of our darkest and most mysterious impulses. Jesse reclaims her sense of self-worth and mobility with the help of Judith, the TV producer, though she would still take Noel back. But Noel? Well you have to judge Noel for yourself. I am certain I left the theater knowing less about the subject than when I entered, but one thing was crystal clear: the lens through which we may experience life was altered to the point where I found myself watching an actor on a monitor rather than watch the actor on the stage and it’s not because I was too far away. That disturbs me more than any fetish.


Over 30 people in the production staff for a 75 minute, one act, two-hander that packs three issues into one play: Feederism as a fetish, fat acceptance/fat prejudice as social phenomena, and the ubiquitous incursion of technology into every corner of our lives rendering boundaries between the virtual and the real permanently and irrevocably blurred. Zayas and company scratch the surface of the first two issues while concentrating heavily on the latter, consequently the human story, provocative and mysterious as always, seems merely rendered as a vehicle for…tech.


Sent from my iPad