From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
Opening night. I am emerging from the Kleenex-strewn haze of a cold. Was going to blog from home on Monday, in between tea and DVDs of Six Feet Under, but wasn't sure what kind of delirious drivel would come out of my (very low-grade, don't worry mom) fever. So, now that I am on the mend, I thought it might be a good time to reach out and, you know, touch someone. Coincidentally, Marya also sent over a blog today, so you're in for a whole lot of blog-y goodness.
So, tonight we open Gem of the Ocean. I saw it last night in previews. I was a little wary because I wasn't sure if I would be able to stay focused in my sniffly state, but I was completely engaged. Really, you have to believe that I say these things truthfully and not because I work here. Just know that I'm not a liar, so if I don't like a play, I'm going to write, "I'm so busy, I didn't have time to see it, but I heard it was awesome!" So, I can say in all honestly, that this is a really beautiful, excellently paced (i.e. not boring), surprisingly funny piece. The acting is really solid, and the actors (with Ms. Rashad's direction) have made some really interesting choices that bring astounding depth to the characters. The music is awesome. The writing, of course, is so eloquently woven. The friend I saw the show with said afterwards, "I don't know how August Wilson did it. Every line moves the story forward in such a beautiful way."
And, as always, you don't have to take my word for it. We send out surveys to our preview audiences to see what the initial response to the show is. The feedback has been really positive. Such as:
“Aunt Ester will be for me one of the great characters of American theater... [the play] is hauntingly beautiful...historically stark with invaluable lessons about the fragility and preciousness of freedom in our own time.”
“We told our family about our enjoyable evening at the Rep. It was nice to finish the August Wilson cycle with such a good production. The play stands well on its own but if you've seen any of Wilson's other plays it has a feel of family.”
“Lively and quite entertaining - very thought provoking”
“Superb actors”
“The production is amazing and profoundly moving. The acting is extremely fine. The play is stunning.”
“Excellent! A fine theatrical experience.”
“I thought Phylicia Rashad's production was superb! Very few actors or directors could do it so well. I hope she does more at the Rep. It was fabulous.”
Personally, I am grateful to Gem of the Ocean above all because it meant in celebration of the opening each department at work got a cake, and all day people have been wandering around in sugared-up stupor declaring, "The carrot is better than the white chocolate mousse!" Ok, I'm being glib. But you only be intellectually stimulating for so long. Someone get me a fork.
Showing posts with label Gem of the Ocean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gem of the Ocean. Show all posts
Thinking, talking
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Labels:
arts,
education,
Fire on the Mountain,
Gem of the Ocean,
Marya Sea Kaminski,
Phylicia Rashad,
Rachel Corrie,
Seattle,
theater
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
It's amazing how the weeks can just slip by around here. One play opens, another closes. My work days recently have been measured in free food and drinks: champagne to toast Braden and Marya on the great opening of Rachel Corrie; pizza to send off the musicians of Fire on the Mountain (no Kentucky bourbon, but it was lunch time). Now a brief reprieve before Gem of the Ocean (with the amazing Phylicia Rashad at the helm!) will open with great fanfare, capping a great, albeit exhausting, season. So, now that my very poor explanation of blog lag (excess food...ok, I've been busy with other things too) is done, let me share something with you.
The other day, I snuck into the end of a student matinee of My Name is Rachel Corrie to see the post play discussion. I was curious to see how high school students would respond to a play about someone not too much older than them. Would it resonate and ring true? They were virtually silent throughout the entire performance. The discussion was slow to start, but once Marya came back on stage and started--in her graceful, optimistic, humble way--to dialogue with the audience, the questions started rolling in.
Yes, there was the ubiquitous "How did you memorize all of those lines?" ("I'm still not sure I know them all," she said) but there were also questions about how the play has changed Marya's outlook on the controversy. Students asked if Rachel's spirit has inspired her to become more of an activist (yes, "I don't think I'll ever be the same," she said). One student from a school in Olympia shared that she played pinball at the same place Rachel mentions in the play. Marya's face lit up, "Really? You've been there?"
I've been having a hard time remembering that Rachel Corrie was a real person. Of course I know it rationally, and I've seen pictures and met her parents, but it seems impossible that these beautiful words could have come from the pen of someone just a little younger than I who lived an hour away and died in a country I pretty much know nothing about. I feel connected to her in a strange, remote way, but I feel oddly voyeuristic looking inside her head without knowing her. However, I think Annie Wagner might have been right when she wrote on the Stranger slog yesterday, "Everyone who keeps a private journal has some consciousness of a future audience, whether you’re aiming at your older self or fantasizing a public ravenous for your juvenilia."
It did seem like Rachel was writing for an audience of some kind, and I'm sure she would probably be happy to know her words were eliciting this kind of response--even outrage. The student audience asked Marya what she imagined Rachel would think about the play. Marya said she thought Rachel would be proud and happy to know her words were making people think and talk. It makes me think about what I'm doing now that would possibly impact anyone once I’m gone. I've just finished writing a country musical about heartbreak. While I'm sure someone might find it funny, entertaining, whatever, I feel really motivated now to use my passion for theater to start a spark. About something. Wow, it sounds like I'm writing a cover letter or something.
Speaking of writing, next Wednesday, April 4, Seattle Rep is presenting Teenspeak: My Name Is. Using My Name is Rachel Corrie as a jumping off point, students from three area high schools worked with Seattle Rep teaching artists to develop short theatrical pieces about their lives and the issues that are important to them. I got to sit in on their first read through. I was just stunned at the concise, insightful poetry that they've created. The performance takes place at 6 p.m. prior to the April 4 performance of Rachel Corrie. It's free, but reservations are necessary. Whether or not you're coming to Rachel Corrie that night, I would really encourage you to check out the My Name Is project. I think you'll find yourself rather inspired. To make reservations call the box office at 206-443-2222.
It's amazing how the weeks can just slip by around here. One play opens, another closes. My work days recently have been measured in free food and drinks: champagne to toast Braden and Marya on the great opening of Rachel Corrie; pizza to send off the musicians of Fire on the Mountain (no Kentucky bourbon, but it was lunch time). Now a brief reprieve before Gem of the Ocean (with the amazing Phylicia Rashad at the helm!) will open with great fanfare, capping a great, albeit exhausting, season. So, now that my very poor explanation of blog lag (excess food...ok, I've been busy with other things too) is done, let me share something with you.
The other day, I snuck into the end of a student matinee of My Name is Rachel Corrie to see the post play discussion. I was curious to see how high school students would respond to a play about someone not too much older than them. Would it resonate and ring true? They were virtually silent throughout the entire performance. The discussion was slow to start, but once Marya came back on stage and started--in her graceful, optimistic, humble way--to dialogue with the audience, the questions started rolling in.
Yes, there was the ubiquitous "How did you memorize all of those lines?" ("I'm still not sure I know them all," she said) but there were also questions about how the play has changed Marya's outlook on the controversy. Students asked if Rachel's spirit has inspired her to become more of an activist (yes, "I don't think I'll ever be the same," she said). One student from a school in Olympia shared that she played pinball at the same place Rachel mentions in the play. Marya's face lit up, "Really? You've been there?"
I've been having a hard time remembering that Rachel Corrie was a real person. Of course I know it rationally, and I've seen pictures and met her parents, but it seems impossible that these beautiful words could have come from the pen of someone just a little younger than I who lived an hour away and died in a country I pretty much know nothing about. I feel connected to her in a strange, remote way, but I feel oddly voyeuristic looking inside her head without knowing her. However, I think Annie Wagner might have been right when she wrote on the Stranger slog yesterday, "Everyone who keeps a private journal has some consciousness of a future audience, whether you’re aiming at your older self or fantasizing a public ravenous for your juvenilia."
It did seem like Rachel was writing for an audience of some kind, and I'm sure she would probably be happy to know her words were eliciting this kind of response--even outrage. The student audience asked Marya what she imagined Rachel would think about the play. Marya said she thought Rachel would be proud and happy to know her words were making people think and talk. It makes me think about what I'm doing now that would possibly impact anyone once I’m gone. I've just finished writing a country musical about heartbreak. While I'm sure someone might find it funny, entertaining, whatever, I feel really motivated now to use my passion for theater to start a spark. About something. Wow, it sounds like I'm writing a cover letter or something.
Speaking of writing, next Wednesday, April 4, Seattle Rep is presenting Teenspeak: My Name Is. Using My Name is Rachel Corrie as a jumping off point, students from three area high schools worked with Seattle Rep teaching artists to develop short theatrical pieces about their lives and the issues that are important to them. I got to sit in on their first read through. I was just stunned at the concise, insightful poetry that they've created. The performance takes place at 6 p.m. prior to the April 4 performance of Rachel Corrie. It's free, but reservations are necessary. Whether or not you're coming to Rachel Corrie that night, I would really encourage you to check out the My Name Is project. I think you'll find yourself rather inspired. To make reservations call the box office at 206-443-2222.
Being Fabulous
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Labels:
August Wilson,
Diane von Furstenburg,
Fire on the Mountain,
Gem of the Ocean,
John Jacovelli,
Nordstrom,
Rachel Corrie,
Seattle theater
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
It's 5:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, and I can say a few things with certainty: I am not wearing shoes (my high heels have been removed and tossed under my desk), I have consumed a ridiculous amount of food and wine (including two different desserts), and I would be napping face first on my keyboard if I didn't need to see Fire on the Mountain tonight.
An explanation? I'm not really a bad employee. In fact, it was my boss who bought me a ticket to the Nordstrom Spring Fashion Ovation--a fashion show organized by the Seattle Repertory Organization and fundraiser for the Rep. This year brought in a record amount for the Rep and featured the designs of Diane von Furstenberg. Basically the whole morning for me was spent applying lipstick, pretending I'm rich and fabulous (well, I don't really need to pretend about being fabulous) and then crashing back at my desk. Do actual work? Um, that's what tomorrow is for.
Once some of the wine had worn off, I headed downstairs for the meet and greet for Gem of the Ocean, the last play of the season. The excitement around this show is palpable. For one, it marks the Rep's completion of August Wilson's 10-play "Pittsburgh Cycle." It also means we're the only theatre in world (galaxy...universe...) to have performed all 11 of his plays because he performed his one-man show "How I Learned What I Learned" here in 2002.
During the meet and greet, August's wife Constanza Romero spoke about her and August's long history with the Rep. Set designer John Jacovelli shared his model of the set--Aunt Ester's house--and talked about the intricate wallpaper that might transform during Citizen Barlow's journey to the "City of Bones." (This probably sounds like gibberish, but go to Seattle Rep's website for a synopsis of the play). Director Phylicia Rashad (by whom quite a few of us staffers were a little star struck) chimed in with details the designers had forgotten to mention, but was mostly gracefully reticent.
My Name is Rachel Corrie is underway in rehearsals, Fire on the Mountain is playing to packed houses and has gotten some amazing reviews, and Gem is now in rehearsals. It feels like a great way to start winding down the season. And we're already gearing up for next season. We should have titles to announce in the next week. Stay tuned!
Also, I promise some blogs soon that will give you more of a peek into the artistic process, filled with thought-provoking nuggets, ripe for instigating intelligent discourse. Just don't give me a glass of wine for lunch...
It's 5:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, and I can say a few things with certainty: I am not wearing shoes (my high heels have been removed and tossed under my desk), I have consumed a ridiculous amount of food and wine (including two different desserts), and I would be napping face first on my keyboard if I didn't need to see Fire on the Mountain tonight.
An explanation? I'm not really a bad employee. In fact, it was my boss who bought me a ticket to the Nordstrom Spring Fashion Ovation--a fashion show organized by the Seattle Repertory Organization and fundraiser for the Rep. This year brought in a record amount for the Rep and featured the designs of Diane von Furstenberg. Basically the whole morning for me was spent applying lipstick, pretending I'm rich and fabulous (well, I don't really need to pretend about being fabulous) and then crashing back at my desk. Do actual work? Um, that's what tomorrow is for.
Once some of the wine had worn off, I headed downstairs for the meet and greet for Gem of the Ocean, the last play of the season. The excitement around this show is palpable. For one, it marks the Rep's completion of August Wilson's 10-play "Pittsburgh Cycle." It also means we're the only theatre in world (galaxy...universe...) to have performed all 11 of his plays because he performed his one-man show "How I Learned What I Learned" here in 2002.
During the meet and greet, August's wife Constanza Romero spoke about her and August's long history with the Rep. Set designer John Jacovelli shared his model of the set--Aunt Ester's house--and talked about the intricate wallpaper that might transform during Citizen Barlow's journey to the "City of Bones." (This probably sounds like gibberish, but go to Seattle Rep's website for a synopsis of the play). Director Phylicia Rashad (by whom quite a few of us staffers were a little star struck) chimed in with details the designers had forgotten to mention, but was mostly gracefully reticent.
My Name is Rachel Corrie is underway in rehearsals, Fire on the Mountain is playing to packed houses and has gotten some amazing reviews, and Gem is now in rehearsals. It feels like a great way to start winding down the season. And we're already gearing up for next season. We should have titles to announce in the next week. Stay tuned!
Also, I promise some blogs soon that will give you more of a peek into the artistic process, filled with thought-provoking nuggets, ripe for instigating intelligent discourse. Just don't give me a glass of wine for lunch...
Star Struck
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Labels:
Ariel Dorfman,
August Wilson,
Brad Pitt,
David Esbjornson,
Edward Albee,
Gem of the Ocean,
Heather Raffo,
Phylicia Rashad,
The Lady from Dubuque,
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,
Zoo Story
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
Forgive me for the lapse in posts. Lots of blog-worthy things have happened this week, I've just been recovering from a fantastic (read: late and wine-filled) opening night. But here we are, Friday. The Lady From Dubuque has opened and is getting strong reviews already. Read Misha Berson's take on the play in today's Seattle Times. She says, "(David) Esbjornson tracks down every nuance, comic and tragic, in a script that does keep surprising you." But of course I'm paid to market the show and can hardly be trusted, so read it yourself.
Monday night Edward Albee was here for Stage Voices, a free, non-regular series we put on at the Rep that lets audience members engage in a more intimate dialogue with theatre artists. Last season we did one with Ariel Dorfman and another with Heather Raffo (playwright of 9 Parts of Desire). It's pretty amazing to get to peer into the heads of some incredibly talented and smart people. Or, in the case of Mr. Albee, one of the greatest American playwrights, um, ever. He was funny, insighftul, and spoke with the sternly playful authority of a man who has written nearly 30 plays.
On his writing process: He doesn't like to talk about it because he doesn't really have a process. He puts his trust completely in his characters. He knows they're ready to be in his play when he can go to the beach and write a 20-minute improvised, not-int-the-actual-play scene with them that's truthful. He writes long hand because then he can write anywhere and besides he doesn't trust computers.
On the state of theater: "For every 100 plays I read, one is good." He said the state of theater is OK when there are three or four playwrights who really get it, who are really creating works that help us understand what it is to be human.
On becoming a playwright: As a teenager he wrote bad stories and even worse poetry. But one of his stories had a brilliant first line: "Everything in Rome is uphill." He was great at imitating other writers, but didn't really find his voice until he wrote his first play, Zoo Story.
On the title Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?: He saw it written on a mirror in a bar in Greenwich Village.
Mr. Albee stuck around for opening night and was approached or at least eyed by many-a admirer. For us theatre people, it's kind of like having Brad Pitt around, except shorter and smarter (sorry, Brad). I didn't meet him personally, but I did get to interview Phylicia Rashad today who was here casting Gem of the Ocean, which she is directing here in March. This is her directorial debut, though she's very familiar with the play having starring in it on Broadway. She had a lot of passionate things to say about August Wilson's work, but I found the most endearing part of our conversation when my tape recorder kept stopping and she suggested we name it Priscilla and stroke it gently to get it to keep working. For the most part, it was a very relaxed, comfortable interview, although I did have a moment or two of, "Um, this is Mrs. Huxtable!" I think the play will be amazing. She has this graceful presence about her that I can tell is just going to flow out her fingers and cover the entire production (why does that sentence make me think of Spiderman?).
This blog is getting awfully long. Is anyone reading these? Leave a comment or something and let me know. If I don't hear from you, I will assume I have free reign to say anything, and my next blog will probably be about how I spent my weekend.
Forgive me for the lapse in posts. Lots of blog-worthy things have happened this week, I've just been recovering from a fantastic (read: late and wine-filled) opening night. But here we are, Friday. The Lady From Dubuque has opened and is getting strong reviews already. Read Misha Berson's take on the play in today's Seattle Times. She says, "(David) Esbjornson tracks down every nuance, comic and tragic, in a script that does keep surprising you." But of course I'm paid to market the show and can hardly be trusted, so read it yourself.
Monday night Edward Albee was here for Stage Voices, a free, non-regular series we put on at the Rep that lets audience members engage in a more intimate dialogue with theatre artists. Last season we did one with Ariel Dorfman and another with Heather Raffo (playwright of 9 Parts of Desire). It's pretty amazing to get to peer into the heads of some incredibly talented and smart people. Or, in the case of Mr. Albee, one of the greatest American playwrights, um, ever. He was funny, insighftul, and spoke with the sternly playful authority of a man who has written nearly 30 plays.
On his writing process: He doesn't like to talk about it because he doesn't really have a process. He puts his trust completely in his characters. He knows they're ready to be in his play when he can go to the beach and write a 20-minute improvised, not-int-the-actual-play scene with them that's truthful. He writes long hand because then he can write anywhere and besides he doesn't trust computers.
On the state of theater: "For every 100 plays I read, one is good." He said the state of theater is OK when there are three or four playwrights who really get it, who are really creating works that help us understand what it is to be human.
On becoming a playwright: As a teenager he wrote bad stories and even worse poetry. But one of his stories had a brilliant first line: "Everything in Rome is uphill." He was great at imitating other writers, but didn't really find his voice until he wrote his first play, Zoo Story.
On the title Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?: He saw it written on a mirror in a bar in Greenwich Village.
Mr. Albee stuck around for opening night and was approached or at least eyed by many-a admirer. For us theatre people, it's kind of like having Brad Pitt around, except shorter and smarter (sorry, Brad). I didn't meet him personally, but I did get to interview Phylicia Rashad today who was here casting Gem of the Ocean, which she is directing here in March. This is her directorial debut, though she's very familiar with the play having starring in it on Broadway. She had a lot of passionate things to say about August Wilson's work, but I found the most endearing part of our conversation when my tape recorder kept stopping and she suggested we name it Priscilla and stroke it gently to get it to keep working. For the most part, it was a very relaxed, comfortable interview, although I did have a moment or two of, "Um, this is Mrs. Huxtable!" I think the play will be amazing. She has this graceful presence about her that I can tell is just going to flow out her fingers and cover the entire production (why does that sentence make me think of Spiderman?).
This blog is getting awfully long. Is anyone reading these? Leave a comment or something and let me know. If I don't hear from you, I will assume I have free reign to say anything, and my next blog will probably be about how I spent my weekend.
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