CoHo’s “The Snowstorm” — Again

Yup, we saw The Snowstorm again. We’ve often considered seeing the same run of a show a second time, but always manage to talk ourselves out of it. There’s just so much theatre to see — why spend more money and another evening on a show we’ve seen already?

As I discovered last night at CoHo, the answer is because theatre changes. And because you change after watching it. I expected to see the same amazing performance I’d seen two weeks before. But what I saw was much better.

I don’t know if it was them or me, but the emotions felt stronger, the movement more natural. The grief was more heartbreaking, and the hope more hopeful. Maybe the actors were more comfortable in their roles and more confident because of the great reviews. Maybe knowing what was to come, I anticipated my own feelings. Maybe it was the glass (or two) of wine I had at happy hour. Whatever it was, it was intense and fabulous.

Favorite parts: “Broken Record,” “The Snowstorm,” “Ice Dancing,” and the amazing music

Least favorite part: The person who didn’t turn off her cellphone, proving that even a phone set to vibrate can make enough noise to fill a theatre. Power off, people — power off!

New theatre crush: Matthew Kerrigan, who as the gypsy reminded me of Johnny Depp before he started just playing Jack Sparrow all of the time. (Don’t worry, old theatre crushes, I have room in my heart for all of you.)

CoHo’s “The Snowstorm”: A Breathtaking New Art Form

Is it too early to say I just saw the best show of 2015? I know it’s only January, and I’m totally going to keep an open mind, but CoHo Productions’ The Snowstorm is going to be hard to beat.

We don’t have a word for this type of performance in English. It’s a play set to music, but there isn’t any singing and it isn’t just a play. The music is pieces by Sergei Rachmaninoff…played live! Director and choreographer Jessica Wallenfels’ program notes tell us that a play set to music with no singing is officially a melodrama, but that isn’t quite right. The performance is built around and driven by the music, and the story is told as much through movement as through words. It’s like they took the best bits of each type of live performance (except musicals) and in each moment used the bit that fit the story best. The result was breathtaking.

The Snowstorm is about grief, about holding on, and about letting go, but mostly it is about love and the wonderful and terrible power it can have over us. All of the performers are excellent, but the two that stand out are Jamie M. Rea as Anna Lebedeva and Matthew Kerrigan as Sergei. The most powerful scenes with the two of them together — Anna both seeking comfort in and being held prisoner by the memory of the lover she lost many years ago. And then there’s Eric Nordin, who conceived the show and plays all of the music — incredible.

The Snowstorm is a beautiful exploration of the relationship between words and music and movement, and it is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. There’s much more, but I don’t want to give it away. Just go see this show.

The Snowstorm runs at the CoHo Theatre through February 7. The space is small, and last night it looked like they had sold more tickets than they had seats, so don’t wait!

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike: A Kinder, Gentler Christopher Durang

 

I hadn’t seen a play for more than three weeks! Can you imagine?? I was starting to get the shakes. So, Wednesday, we headed to Portland Center Stage to see Christopher Durang’s 2013 Tony-award winning play Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike.

Both my Chekov education and my Christopher Durang education are relatively incomplete. I’ve seen The Seagull and Uncle Vanya (both on Broadway — Uncle Vanya was part of the Lincoln Center Theatre Festival and starred Cate Blanchett…WOW), and I have twice unsuccessfully attempted to see The Cherry Orchard. Other than that, I’ve had a book of Chekov’s plays by my bedside for a few weeks. I was supposed to read it before seeing V&S&M&S, but that didn’t really work out.

For Durang, I saw Sex and Longing during its ill-fated five-week run on Broadway in 1996. The critics hated it! I have to admit, I didn’t mind it — I was young and it was very edgy and had Sigourney Weaver. A third of the audience walked out during the first intermission and another third during the second, so the talk in the bathroom line was pretty interesting. I also saw Betty’s Summer Vacation at Defunkt last season. Compared to those two, V&S&M&S is a much kinder, gentler experience. At least no one gets his head cut off!

The show is funny. I highly recommend seeing anything with Sharonlee McLean in the cast. I loved her in The Typographer’s Dream, and her Maggie Smith voice is definitely a highlight of this production. From here on out, though, every time I see her I will be waiting in anticipation for her to shatter a drinking vessel.

For me, V&S&M&S was all about shared experiences that connect us to one another, and how not having shared experiences can make us feel lonely. The whole show builds up to Vanya’s tirade about the lack of shared experiences in modern culture, but the play shows us that even being in the same house doesn’t guarantee a shared experience, while sometimes wonderful connections come from where you least expect them. The play is sad, but also incredibly hopeful. And funny…don’t forget funny. It is Christopher Durang, after all.

Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike runs through February 8. Also, next weekend, Portland Center Stage is having a Chekov workshop, so if your Chekov education is as deficient as mine, here’s your chance to learn something new (yes, I’ll be there).

 

If It’s a Movie of a Play, Is It a Movie or a Play?

This question has been bugging me lately. I’m not talking about movie versions of plays, like August: Osage County, which I finally saw and can’t understand why people didn’t like it (I though it was an excellent adaptation, and like the play it make me laugh and feel horrible all at the same time). I’m talking about watching live performances on screen. For example, I recently attended a screening of Of Mice and Men, starring James Franco and Chris O’Dowd, recorded live at Longacre Theatre on Broadway, and next week, I’ll be checking out a live broadcast of The Merry Widow with Kelli O’Hara (one of my faves) and Renee Fleming. Do these count as live performances or movies?

Here’s what I’ve got so far:

In the movie category

• You don’t get a playbill.
• You are watching a screen, not a stage.
• The performance isn’t live at the time you are watching it, except sometimes it is, like for The Merry Widow.
• The filming is directed, with close-ups and everything. (This resulted in a strange and unsatisfying ending for Of Mice and Men — a way-too-long close-up on Lenny.)
• The audience behaves more like a movie audience (i.e., no qualms about opening noisy snack packages).
• The price — roughly twice the price of a movie ticket, but only one-fifth of what you’d pay to see it live.

In the play category

• A playbill for the show does exist, even though you don’t get one.
• The performance is filmed live, so presumably if there were any mistakes they would still be in there.
• There are no special effects or other movie magic.
• You get the same intermission as the people in the theatre.
• The audience is full of people you would likely meet at a play.

Or maybe it isn’t a movie or a play. If someone asked me what I did last weekend, I wouldn’t say “I saw the play Of Mice and Men,” but I also wouldn’t say “I saw the movie Of Mice and Men.” Neither of those is correct. I guess that’s why these shows are usually referred to as “broadcasts,” for the live performances, and “screenings,” for the non-live performances. But it seems a little silly to me to have different categories based on the audience’s experience rather than the art form itself — if you go to an arena concert and sit in the back and watch the show on the big screens instead of the stage, you’d still say that you saw the concert, not that you watched a live broadcast of the concert, right?

So, I need a little help here — what do you think?

My 2014 Theatre Year in Review

It’s that time again — time to reflect on the year that has just ended and look forward to the year to come. So here goes…

In 2014, I saw 48 shows:

• 16 musicals
• 17 plays
• 5 dramatic/staged readings
• 2 storytelling events
• 8 dance/circus performances

You can see them all here. Most of them were in Portland; a few were in New York and Seattle. Needless to say, it was a pretty awesome. Here are some of the highlights and other random observations about my 2014 theatre year.

Favorite play: Middletown (Third Rail Repertory Theatre)

Everything about this play was awesome — the play itself, the company, the whole experience of the performance. It was just so beautifully, tragically human.

Other contenders: Sans Merci (Badass Theatre Company), The Typographer’s Dream (Portland Center Stage), Bob: A Life in Five Acts (Theatre Vertigo)

Favorite musical: The Light in the Piazza (Portland Playhouse)

I saw the original cast of The Light in the Piazza on Broadway on my honeymoon, so this show holds special meaning for me. It was one of the first shows I saw in Portland (before I knew how good the theatre scene is here), and I was a little skeptical about the ability of a local theatre company to do this difficult show justice. But it was wonderful, and Meredith Kaye Clark was perfect, and I loved watching a musical in an old church.

Other contenders: La Cage aux Folles (Pixie Dust Productions), Cabaret (Roundabout Theatre Company)

Favorite performer: Joe Theissen (as Harold Hill, Zaza, Mr. Potter)

Because he’s amazing.

Other contenders: Honestly, I didn’t really consider anyone else.

Favorite company: Third Rail Rep

You knew that already.

Other contenders: Portland Playhouse, Badass

Favorite performance space: The Shoebox Theatre

You walk down a dark deserted street and through an unmarked door, and then you’re in a small rectangle where they do plays. Fun!

Other contenders: Portland Playhouse, The Sanctuary at Sandy Plaza, PDX Conservatory

Things I’ve learned

• Every theatre in Portland is within walking distance of the Riverplace neighborhood. As long as you have liberal definition of “walking distance.”
• Get the best seat you can afford. It’s worth it to see the actors’ mannerisms and facial expressions.
• Never sit in the first row or on the aisle at Defunkt. Unless you don’t mind having the show take place in your lap, in which case go for it. (BTW: I love Defunkt, but intimate doesn’t even begin to describe the performance space!)
• Buy Portland Center Stage tickets on Goldstar. I have season tickets to a couple of theatres and I do purchase tickets directly, but I also get many of my tickets on Goldstar (my referral link), which is the only way I could afford to see 48 shows last year! PCS shows are always available and I have always gotten very good seats (which is not true at all theatres).
• Never wear mauve at a ball. Or pink. Or open your mouth. Just kidding! I knew that before.

General reflections

I’m loving Portland theatre. There’s so much of it — every time I go to a show, I see a flyer for a show or a company I’ve never heard of — with a great balance of traditional and edgy stuff, and across the board the quality is very high. I also appreciate the general commitment to making theatre affordable for everyone — many companies give tickets away to students and others who might not otherwise be able to attend.

I worry, however, about the number of half-empty houses I’ve seen. Since 2014 was my first year in Portland, I don’t know if this is normal or if it was just a down year. I’m hoping to see more butts in seats in 2015, and if I can hack it, my butt will be one of them. 🙂