Monday, July 2, 2018

Internationally Renowned Gloriæ Dei Cantores Celebrates Thirty Years of Choral Artistry

Be captivated by brilliant choral works of two highly sought-after modern composers, Eriks Ešenvalds and Arvo Pärt

Photo Credit: Steve J. Sherman
JULY 6 & 7—Celebrating thirty years of choral artistry, the internationally acclaimed Gloriæ Dei Cantores invites you to join them for their summer concert series. Under the direction of Richard K. Pugsley, Gloriæ Dei Cantores will perform sacred choral works by modern day composers, Eriks Esenvalds and Arvo Part. These two highly sought after composers brilliantly weave ancient melodies and musical styles with modern interpretations, creating masterpieces that are a kaleidoscope of powerful colors, rich text, and core-deep emotions that are accessible to all.

“The sing with absolute fluency and authority.”—Gramophone

Gloriæ Dei Cantores holds a passionate dedication to illuminate truth and beauty through choral artistry, celebrating a rich tradition of sacred choral music from Gregorian chant through the twenty-first century. Throughout their thirty years as an ensemble, the choir as touched the hearts of audiences in twenty-three countries in Europe, Russia, and North America, receiving extensive critical acclaim for it's artistic elegance, performance authenticity, and compelling spirituality.

Experience these modern-day musical masterpieces, performed by Gloriæ Dei Cantores at the magnificent basilican-style Church of the Transfiguration, filled with frescoes, mosaics, and other works of art. 

JULY 6 & 7, 7:30PM
Pre-concert lecture: 6:45PM
Church of the Transfiguration, Orleans, Cape Cod
For tickets, call 508-240-2400, purchase online, or purchase at the door. 

UPCOMING CONCERT: AUGUST 24 & 25, 7:30PM—Gloriæ Dei Cantores will perform Arvo Part’s Passio with world-renowned guest soloists, Colin Balzer (Tenor), and Andrew Nolen (Bass), at the Church of the Transfiguration, Cape Cod, MA. Regarded as a choral icon, this work is contemplative in style and inspired by some of the earliest settings of Saint John's Passion. It remains one of Arvo Part's most popular works today.

Saturday, June 16, 2018

'Pedro Pan' brings Cuban experience to musical stage



      As a child, Rebecca Aparicio was fascinated by one particular piece of her mother’s jewelry.  The gold stud earrings were uneven, not perfectly round, representing the story of a life being broken apart and remade.  

     Those small objects symbolized a traumatic event in her family’s history.  What Aparicio didn’t know is how much her family’s plight was connected to that of thousands of other families.  It wasn’t until 2013 when she was searching for a topic for a children’s musical she had been commissioned to write that she began to see the larger picture. 

     Now she is bringing together the personal and the historic in Pedro Pan, a musical about immigration and family that will be presented in this summer’s New York Musical Festival (NYMF).  She wrote the show’s book and her husband, Stephen Anthony Elkins, wrote the music and lyrics. 

     “Regardless of one’s immigration status, these are human stories,” Aparicio said.  “The show has taken on a shape we couldn’t have imagined.” 

     The couple, who had celebrated their 10th anniversary the day before, talked about their upcoming production in a 42nd Street deli a block from the Acorn Theatre where Pedro Pan will have its five-show run July 10 through 14. The musical tells the story of one fictional Cuban boy, Pedro, and how he becomes Peter in America, using the historical backdrop of Operación Pedro Pan, one of the world’s largest political exoduses of children.  Between 1960 and 1962, more than 14,000 children were sent unaccompanied from Cuba by parents who feared for their futures under the new government of Fidel Castro. 
    A Cuban-American who was born in Miami, Aparicio had never heard of Operación Pedro Pan until she was commissioned to write a hispanic-themed children’s musical and was told to incorporate her Cuban culture and fairy tales.  In her research she found many of the fairy tales not to her liking.

     “There were a lot about cockroaches,” she said. “That’s not what I’m interested in.”

     When she discovered the historical immigration story she knew she had found her plot line.

     “I understood that because it was my parents’ story.”

     While her parents weren’t part of Operación Pedro Pan, both had to leave Cuba when they were 8 or 9 — during that time and for the same reasons — with one parent left behind.  An uncle came by himself in 1965.  None knew if the families would ever be reunited.  

     Aparicio grew up hearing their stories, such as the one about  the earrings, which had been a gold chain her mother received from her grandmother when she was born. Because nothing of value could be taken out of Cuba, Aparicio’s Abuela, grandmother, had the beloved 24K gold chain melted into earrings so that a treasure from Cuba could be taken to the new life. 

     “The story of my mom getting on a plane and how she’d had these earrings made for her so that she could take it with her and being scared that the guards would notice their value and take them away, these were our bedtime stories,” Aparicio said.  “Her earrings were just one of the many tiny connections we had to the birthplace of my parents that we could not visit.”

    When she discovered Operación Pedro Pan, Aparicio could incorporate that movement and her parents’ experience into the larger theme of immigrant children. 

       Over the five years Aparicio and Elkins have been developing Pedro Pan it has evolved from a short children’s musical to a full-length show for a general audience.  The core has centered around Pedro’s experience of being put on a plane by himself so he could live with an aunt in Brooklyn.  Among the adjustments they have made is deepening the role of the adult characters, especially creating a more difficult adjustment for Pedro and his aunt, a single woman suddenly charged with caring for a child for an undetermined time period. 

     “It resonated with adults because of the subject,” Elkins said.  “We realized there was a lot more of the story asking to be told.”

     The Pedro Pan movement was new to Elkins, as was all of Cuban culture until 2004 when he met Aparicio at Alabama’s University of Montevallo and they started working on musicals together.

    “I wouldn’t say outside culture was a part of the Alabama experience,” he said with a smile, referring to his home state.  

     But over the years they have been together he “fell in love with the music.” He started learning it informally with the help of more than two dozen CDs Aparicio’s father gave him.

     “When this project came around, I used this influence I had been studying for the last 10 years or so,” he said, explaining that  the music he wrote for the show is a mix of classic musical theatre with Cuban music from the Pedro Pan era, drawing from traditional Cuban music like the bolero and the son, which feature the acoustic sounds of piano, percussion, trumpet, and bass.

     Although Catholicism is not central to the musical, it was a major force behind Operación Pedro Pan.  With Catholic schools shut down in Cuba and priests and nuns being expelled, the church became a major player behind the movement to get the children out.  Under the guardianship of the Catholic Diocese of Miami, Monsignor Bryan O. Walsh, who ran the Catholic Welfare Bureau, arranged visas and helped find homes for the children around the country and in church-run camps in southern Florida. 
     

Aparicio grew up Roman Catholic and the couple was married in that tradition but they now worship at Christ Church Bay Ridge, an Episcopal parish in Brooklyn where Elkins in the music director. 

     Pedro Pan received a NYMF reading last summer and the couple has been helped by the feedback they received.  They also were honored with a NYMF Reading Series Award, guaranteeing them a slot in this year’s full-production lineup, along with a $5,000 subsidy.

     From the show’s initial production at the New York International Fringe Festival in 2015, it has touched people emotionally.  Over the years the political theme has struck audiences more as well.

     “The message has gotten more and more important,” Aparicio said.  “There wasn’t the animosity toward immigrants as there is now.  It’s grown and grown and is getting scarier.  For children who are immigrants this is a difficult time.”  

     But the writers’ intent is not to push a cause.

     “It’s not a political agenda,” she says.  “It’s a human agenda.”

     Aparicio longs to go to Cuba to see where her parents lived and went to school.  Her grandparents have described that world to her “street by street” over the years.  But she is making no plans.

     “I will not go until my parents go and they will not go until communism is completely eradicated.” 

Shifting the Sun




When your father dies, say the Irish, 
you lose your umbrella against bad weather. 
May his sun be your light, say the Armenians.

When your father dies, say the Welsh, 
you sink a foot deeper into the earth. 
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians. 

When your father dies, say the Canadians, 
you run out of excuses. 
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians. 

When your father dies, say the French, 
you become your own father. 
May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians. 

When you father dies, say the Indians, 
he comes back as the thunder. 
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians. 

When your father dies, say the Russians, 
he takes your childhood with him. 
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians. 

When your father dies, say the English, 
you join his club you vowed you wouldn't. 
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians. 

When your father dies, say the Armenians, 
your sun shifts forever. 
And you walk in his light. 

Diana Der-Hovanessian ~

Thursday, May 3, 2018

'Summer: The Donna Summer Musical'



     Summer: The Donna Summer Musical lacks one of the major elements that made that singer a superstar — heat.  Her interpretation of songs was hot, but as performed by the three actresses who play her, and as directed by Des McAnuff, they are only lukewarm, making her more the Queen of Easy Listening than the Queen of Disco.  Nothing even begins to sizzle until about a third of the way in when she sings “MacArthur Park,” a song that wasn’t even one of her hits.

     An equally major problem for a show that is supposed to be biographical is the weak book by Colman Domingo, Robert Cary and McAnuff, which offers highlights of Summer’s troubled life without much development, sort of like headlines appearing one after the other on a news ticker but with no story to fill them out.  I knew nothing about Summer before I went in and I left feeling I had only vaguely encountered her.  But then how much can you develop a show with two dozen musical numbers— and tell a life story — in only 100 minutes?

     Adding to the list of flaws are choreographer Sergio Trujillo’s sexless dance numbers that seem more like a cardio-dance class at the gym — for middle-aged people.

     Biographical jukebox musicals like Jersey Boys and Beautiful: The Carole King Musical, and to a lesser degree On Your Feet about Gloria Estefan, might not offer original songs the way new musicals used to, but they tell good stories about the lives of people we’ve been listening to for years.  

     That should have been the case with Summer, now at Broadway’s Lunt-Fontanne Theatre.  Certainly enough happened in her life to make an involving plot — she was sexually abused for five years by her pastor as a child, she experienced, at 18, being “the only black woman in Munich” while touring Europe with Hair, had a failed marriage, recorded 20 albums and became wildly successful, turned religious and died of lung cancer at 63.  After all, it was the events of her life that inspired her to write all those hit songs.

     When I had read that three actresses would be portraying Summer at different stages, I expected a developed life.  LaChanze, as Diva Donna, Ariana DeBose as Disco Donna and Storm Lever as Duckling Donna all sing and act well, but they are held back by the weak script.

     They do get to wear beautiful costumes designed by Paul Tazewell, but he goes overboard in being true to Summer’s signature color — blue.  I like that color but I got sick of seeing it in scene after scene, on all three actresses.  It’s a relief when Summer has a rare change of look in a black dress for a funeral and later a striking white pants suit with silver sequins for her “Last Dance” number.

     But about that funeral, which was for her former producer and early supporter whom she had abandoned for a new recording label.  While I was relieved to see her in something other than blue, the scene is the weakest by that point.  (Another to come was even worse.)  The lighting, by Howell Binkley, is low.  Summer is center stage surrounded by mourners farther behind her.  They were holding something I couldn’t quite see and I thought, Oh, God, are they lilies?  As they moved forward, I saw that they were.  How cheesy.

     It gets even worse, though, when Summer slowly and mournfully sings one of her greatest disco hit, “Dim All the Lights,” turning that great dance song into a funeral hymn.  Question for McAnuff and Ron Melrose (music supervision and arrangements), What were you thinking

     Now for the rock bottom:  Summer, feeling she needs to get back to the religion of her childhood, has a come-to-Jesus scene that finds her singing “I Believe in Jesus,” ending with her hand raised in an evangelical praise salute.  It is awful.

     The show concludes with her at Studio 54 singing “Last Dance.”  Reflecting on her life she says, “I wasn’t just at the party, I was the party.”  If her party — career — had been a dud like this we’d never know her name because she wouldn’t have gotten far.  

     Fortunately she didn’t live to see this memorialization.  Before her death she had been developing an auto-biographical musical, Ordinary Girl, in which she planned to star.  That work became the basis of Summer.  If only she had lived, we might have had a show worthy of her life and talent.  

Thursday, April 26, 2018

'Feeding the Dragon' -- a season highlight



    I was transported to a world of childhood innocence and awakening in early 1970s New York in Sharon Washington's funny and moving one-woman autobiographical play, Feeding the Dragon, a Primary Stages production at the Cherry Lane Theatre through tomorrow.

     Actress and writer Washington is a gifted purveyor of the special story she has to share, that a child growing up with her parents, maternal Gramma Ma and dog, Brownie, in a three-bedroom apartment on top of the St. Agnes branch of the New York Public Library on the Upper West Side from 1969 to 1973. “A typical American family.  Living in a not-so-typical place,” as she says. 

     Before furnaces were regulated automatically, a caretaker had to shovel coal into them 24/7 to keep the heat and hot water going.  Washington's father was that man in the library at 444 Amsterdam Avenue.

     "It was like a fairy tale of the little girl who lived in the library," Washington begins.  "Once upon a time . . ."

     For the next 90 minutes I lived that world through the child's eyes as well as through the adult's interpretation.  Under Maria Mileaf’s direction, Washington unfolds her story lovingly, even as she relates the “flip side" of her fairy tale, the discovery that her father is an alcoholic who falls off the wagon one day after becoming weary of the demands of his job.

     Until that day her world has indeed seemed like a fairy tale.  When the library closed for the day, and on Sunday, the three floors below her apartment were hers to explore.  She read voraciously and also launched her acting career with the melodramas she and a friend performed.  Washington had me laughing out loud as she throws herself on the floor for an especially dramatic dying scene. 

     That little girl was creative, and she was also smart.  Sharon received a scholarship to the exclusive Dalton School on the Upper East Side, joining a world of white privilege that was new to her.  This gives Washington a chance to comment on black life in New York at the time, with far more fondness than bitterness, especially when talking about her family's heavy involvement with their church. 

     Faith was a guiding star, and Washington portrays this well in the second of two parallel scenes.  The Dragon of the play's title lives in the basement, which is lit with only a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.  The slanted vents in the giant silver furnace look like eyes to the little girl and its big metal grate “could definitely pass for teeth.”

     “I loved watching my Daddy work.  He was like a knight from my Blue Fairy book — St. George and The Dragon. He stood between the terrible beast and me and I wasn’t afraid.”

     Washington mimes her father's motions of digging into the pile of coal, lifting the heavy shovelful and turning to hurl it into the furnace.  She supplies the “CRUNCH . . . SWOOSH” sounds she remembers so well.  It's a sweet scene of a little girl who loves to be with her father.

     The contrasting scene again finds Sharon in the basement for the feeding of The Dragon, but this time she is with her mother who has awaken her and told her to put on her robe and shoes and come to help.  Her father's alcoholism has incapacitated him and the library is cold and needs to build heat before opening.  Her mother summons all her strength and faith for the task.  

     Washington acts out that memory of her mother looking into the darkness of The Dragon’s belly, pressing imaginary bellows in hopes of stirring a spark and beginning her urgent and intensifying recitation of Psalm 91, "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.”  

     She continues to press the bellows, interspersed with verses of the Psalm.  Finally a spark becomes a tiny flame.  She drags the tall metal shovel to the coal pile and Sharon grabs the handle to help, adding her voice to her mother’s.  “He shall call upon me, and I will answer him.”

     After much work, her prayer is answered as the coals catch fire.  “With long life will I satisfy him, and shew  him my salvation.”  It's a powerful scene, beautifully and tightly enacted.  No props are needed.  I could see it all in my mind.  

     The sense of The Dragon’s flickering resuscitation is enhanced by Ann G. Wrightson’s lighting as she slowly takes the stage from darkness to light. Her lighting allows Tony Ferrieri’s simple single set to transform easily from its cozy library feeling — three book-lined steps, an old oak table, big paned windows and a shiny wooden floor — to the basement and a few other locations of Sharon’s world.  Small stacks of real books allow Washington to read from the authors who were important to her — among them Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston and the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. 

     The world of the little girl who lives in the library is so well created that I wish Washington had limited her tale to just that.  The spell was temporarily broken for me when she recounts Sharon’s time with her aunt and uncle in Queens, with whom she spends three weeks following her father’s setback, and later her road trip with her father to visit her paternal relatives in Charleston, SC.  She portrays all the new characters nicely, just as she has her immediate family and neighbors, but that time weakened the focus of the story.

     But it wasn’t enough to spoil the experience for me.  By the time Washington concluded with the words “I am the story” I was teary.

     I saw the matinee on Sunday and the charm of the performance is still with me.  Feeding the Dragon is Washington’s debut as a playwright.  As an actress for three decades she has established herself across mediums, having appeared on Broadway in The Scottsboro Boys, numerous Off-Broadway and regional productions, as well as film and television.  Seeing her in Dragon has been a highlight of my 2017-2018 season. 

(Photo: James Leynse) 

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Carousel -- Dance: 10, Leading Lady and Man . .



     Carousel already has one guaranteed advantage even before any new production is staged — Rodgers and Hammerstein's gorgeous score.  “If I Loved You” and “You’ll Never Walk Alone” are staples in cabaret acts to this day and always will be because of their emotional impact, and the beauty of “The Carousel Waltz” plays in one’s head long after leaving the theatre.

     The power of the dances, well choreographed, also ensures a great theatrical experience.  What has challenged the total effect of this 1945 musical over time, and now more than ever, is the problematic leading characters, carnival barker Billy Bigelow, a loser who beats his wife, and millhand Julie Jordan, the recipient of that abuse who steadfastly defends him and continues to love him.  It also contains one of the most offensive lines in American musical theatre.

     Acceptance of these two characters has always been hard for me, but in director Jack O’Brien’s current revival at the Imperial Theatre, connecting to these weak creatures was impossible because of the performances of the actors who play them, Joshua Henry and Jessie Mueller.  Not only were they unconvincing as a couple, they were unconvincing individually as the characters. 

     In the case of Henry, his performance appeared all head and no heart.  In the Act One closer, “Soliloquy,” when he was singing about becoming a father, I could almost see his thought-process — raise right arm, step left, face forward.  He was so stiff.  If only he had brought to this role the passion he had in The Scottsboro Boys.  

     And if only Mueller had been able to capture Julie the way she did for her Tony-winning role as Carole King in Beautiful.  Instead, she seemed faded, like a minor character.  Lindsay Mendez as her best friend, Carrie Pipperidge, had much more presence, although she’s too silly and insipid in the first act.  This is the second time I’ve been disappointed in Mueller as a leading lady.  I had a similar reaction to her in Waitress

     But this revival still has much to admire.  Justin Peck’s choreography is stunning.  As the Resident Choreographer for the New York City Ballet, he has created more than 300 new works, and the influence of that world blesses what he has created here, starting with the Prelude’s, “The Carousel Waltz.”  Santo Loquasto’s simple scenic design lowers just a carousel top and the dancers perform a ballet at the bottom, swirling around as the orchestra plays.  Brian MacDevitt’s lighting gives an aura of olden times.  It’s a beautiful start, and that grace carries through all of the dance numbers, right down to “Ballet” with Julie and Billy’s 15-year-old daughter, Louise, danced exquisitely by Brittany Pollack, a soloist with the City Ballet.

    The City Ballet is also well represented by Amar Ramasar, a principal member who plays Jigger Craigin.  He didn’t for a minute convince me that he was a murderous thug who would kill for money, but I didn’t need realism.  Watching him dance “Blow High, Blow Low” was enough.

     As for visitors from another world, opera superstar Renee Fleming makes her Broadway musical debut as Nettie Fowler, Julie’s aunt.  She sounded like a veteran of the form, rather than an opera singer on a different stage as she sang “June Is Bustin’ Out All Over” and her show-stopping “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” and joined the company in “A Real Nice Clambake” and Julie in “What’s the Use of Wond’rin’?”

     Fleming appeared in a nonmusical role on Broadway in the 2015 screwball comedy Living on Love where she proved her comic chops.  

     What is missing in this production — thank you, Jack O’Brien — is the cringe-provoking line when Julie declares that if you love someone it doesn’t hurt when he hits you.  The 1994 Lincoln Center revival kept the line.  If you will remember — I do, quite well — that was the year Nicole Brown Simpson was murdered. Newspapers and TV accounts were filled with photos of her bruised face from beatings she had received over the years from her husband, O.J. Simpson, who stood trial for her murder but was acquitted.  I doubt Nicole, or any other battered woman, would have said it didn’t hurt.  That line was like a punch in the face then.  Now, in the midst of the Me Too Movement, it would be even more unacceptable.  

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Tina Fey's 'Mean Girls' lights up Broadway



     New musicals drawn from prior sources are a staple of Broadway now.  Two of these are represented this season with contrasting results.  

     The jukebox musical features songs from a popular artist or group and builds a story around them.  One of the all-time worst examples of this is Escape to Margaritaville, which offers a lame plot contrived to present Jimmy Buffett songs.  The other unoriginal form of new shows is the film-to-stage musical.  Luckily a winner in that genre opened at the August Wilson Theatre this month with Mean Girls, a splashy evening of fun based on actor/writer Tina Fey’s screenplay for the 2004 film.

     Director and choreographer Casey Nicholaw helms a colorful production in every aspect, from Finn Ross and Adam Young’s video designs that fill nearly every scene with vivid projections, to Scott Pask’s sets, Gregg Barnes’s costumes and Nickolaw’s own lively choreography.  

     The show’s book, by Fey, follows her screenplay, the story of a formerly home-schooled girl who grew up in Kenya with her scientist parents as she now adjusts to a midwestern high school.  Nell Benjamin’s lyrics contribute to the storytelling and Jeff Richmond’s music is exceedingly upbeat, if a bit repetitive.  The songs aren’t memorable enough that I came out singing them, but they engage while they are being presented.

     What worked best for me and made the show a true delight was the fresh cast, all of whom were new to my awareness except for the always delectable Kerry Butler who brings her wacky comic skills to three roles, including the math teacher, Ms. Norbury, played by Fey in the movie.  In what can only be a homage to Fey, Butler looks just like her with her petite frame, brown pixie wig and black nerd/cool glasses.

     Heading the cast is Erika Henningsen who plays Cady Heron with shiny wholesomeness and sparkle.  She looks as if she is having the time of her life as the new girl navigating the treacherous waters of high school.  Actually all the cast members, from the leads to the energetic ensemble, seem to be having a ball.  That spirit pours out into the audience and is infectious.  

     The most dangerous predator in Cady’s new jungle is Regina George, a deliciously vane Queen Bee played by Taylor Louderman who struts her sexy body and glittery clothes through the halls of North Shore High School, her loyal sycophants Gretchen Wieners (Ashley Park) and Karen Smith (Kate Rockwell) trailing behind.  They are known as The Plastics, and they revel in their superficiality.  

     On her first day, Cady is befriended by Janis Sarkisian (Barrett Wilbert Weed) and Damian Hubbard (Grey Henson) who introduce her to the different animals in this kingdom in “Where Do You Belong?  They point out the Geeks the Freaks, math lovers who are to be avoided at all costs, even though Cady is a math genius, the Jocks, the Rich Stoners, the Strivers and Survivors, and on through the chain of high school types up to the pinnacle: 

     “We call them The Plastics/ They’re shiny, fake and hard./They play their little mind games/ all around the school yard.”

     This number, set in the cafeteria, has the ensemble dancing up a storm and beating out rhythms with their bright red lunch trays.  In only the third number, Mean Girls establishes itself as a musical about high schoolers that even adults can enjoy.

     Underneath the happy surface, though, lies the hurt that can result in such clannishness.  Park gives a great comic turn portraying Gretchen’s extreme need to be accepted by Regina, but when she allows her mask to slip, she reveals her insecurity and pain in ”What’s Wrong with Me?”  

     “What’s wrong with me?/ What can I do?/ What’s wrong with me?/ Could it be you?/ It’s prob’ly me/ See that?  You see?/ What’s wrong with me?/ Hmmm.”

     The lure of that hierarchal world also sucks in Cady when she is befriended by The Plastics.  Encouraged by Janis and Damian, she agrees to join their circle as a spy to learn the secrets of the inner ring, but as her popularity rises, with the help of a makeover by Regina, she turns into a mean girl herself.  Then claws come out when Cady falls for Regina’s old boyfriend, Aaron Samuels (Kyle Selig).

     Since it doesn’t take long in a show like this to establish characters and plot, the first act began to drag for me.  It features 11 songs and I started looking forward to intermission. 

     But I was quite willing to return for the second act, which offers no surprises but it doesn’t need to.  You always know where this kind of show is going to end.  The pleasure is in getting there.