Clark and I Somewhere in Connecticut

Kris Rothstein

photo by Shannon Mendes OK, so there is a guy in a bunny suit. This is enough to drive some peo­ple into hys­ter­ics but it is much more than props and gim­micks that lend punch and power to Clark and I Somewhere in Connecticut. The show appeared at PuSh two years ago but is back again because it was one of the most talked about, provoca­tive and pop­u­lar pieces.

It all starts with a decrepit old suit­case found by actor James Long in his back alley. The suit­case was full of photo albums with exten­sive cap­tions assem­bled by a woman he iden­ti­fies as The Archivist. He then becomes obsessed with piec­ing together the family’s his­tory and imag­in­ing the sto­ries and rela­tion­ships that defined these people’s lives. The story grows more per­sonal when the whole endeav­our is threat­ened by the ques­tion of who has the right to dis­play and talk about these pho­tographs which ended up in the trash.

The show is play­ful and inven­tive with phys­i­cal com­edy (bunny sets up mikes and screens), dra­matic mono­logue, pro­jec­tions of video (each sub­ject is also wear­ing the bunny suit, sans head) and pho­tos and a nar­ra­tive that jumps around before cir­cling in on the heart of the matter.

The story is deeply involved with the ques­tion of mem­ory and real­ity, how we con­struct sto­ries and what is present and what is absent.  Most of the pho­tos are shown with faces blurred out and we assume that this is for legal rea­sons. But late in the show Long reveals that he has used his own fam­ily pho­tos to stand it for those that inspired the elab­o­rate retelling of con­nec­tions between par­ents and dogs and chil­dren and grand­chil­dren and sum­mers at the lake. I didn’t know what to believe any­more and it felt great.

The Passion Project

Kris Rothstein

Passion Project photograph by Paula Court The action takes place is a small­ish square ‘cell’ where one woman arranges framed can­vasses on hooks and ropes or holds them on the floor or in the air. Projected on these empty rec­tan­gles are scenes from the famous silent film The Passion of Joan of ArcReid Farrington cre­ated this aston­ish­ing and pow­er­ful instal­la­tion by com­bin­ing sev­eral ver­sions of the film (it has quite a his­tory, includ­ing a neg­a­tive destroyed by fire, a new cut made from out-takes, another fire and an orig­i­nal print found in a Norwegian asy­lum), a later sound­track and a con­ver­sa­tion he had with the archivist at the Danish Film Institute while watch­ing some of this rare footage.

Laura K. Nicoll is the per­former. She exe­cutes a com­plex and intensely phys­i­cal chore­og­ra­phy for half an hour,  cre­at­ing an emo­tional expe­ri­ence to rival the film. It is dark and tragic but also ecsta­tic, some­thing like a mar­tyr­dom, I sup­pose. The film is known for its exten­sive use of close-ups and that is what we see on each can­vas — faces arranged in phys­i­cal space as the actual actors might have been. And while oth­ers appear and dis­ap­pear, Renee Falconetti as Joan is ever-present. The audi­ence is free to mill around and watch from every pos­si­ble angle.

If you’re inter­ested in per­for­mance, film his­tory or any­thing that pushes bound­aries, then see this show. The Passion Project is at the Pacific Theatre until February 6th. And if you have the chance go see the whole film with a new mostly com­posed but partly impro­vised score and a vocal text at Christ Church Cathedral on Jan 28th.
 

Nevermore Revisited

Kris Rothstein

nevermoreAs you might have read already, Nevermore is a musi­cal spec­ta­cle inves­ti­gat­ing the lifestory of Edgar Allan Poe — as he might have seen it or told it him­self — so very inspired by Poe’s par­tic­u­lar aes­thetic. It is fan­tas­ti­cally odd and dream­like but at times it is a lit­tle pedes­trian and the singsongy musi­cal num­bers and con­stant expo­si­tion are not as strange as the stag­ing might have us believe.

I  like the fact that cre­ators Jonathan Christenson and Bretta Gerecke have tried to do some­thing dif­fer­ent and styl­ized with the musi­cal for­mat. I was will­ing to go along with the exper­i­ment, which aims to be be a bit dark and weird but also a crowd pleaser, but I kept wait­ing for some­thing resem­bling a dra­matic scene instead of just funny poses and recita­tions of bio­graph­i­cal details. I did like the punky/goth sets, chore­og­ra­phy and cos­tumes which were inven­tive and darkly beau­ti­ful.

Poor old Poe does seem to have been dealt a rough hand and I felt a lit­tle bad for him that he had to endure his trou­bles and sing about them as well. “All our days are trances and all our nights are dreams.”

So Percussion

Kris Rothstein

Last year Music on Main put on a per­for­mance of American com­poser Steve Reich’s piece Drumming as part of PuSh fest. This year Brooklyn per­cus­sion quar­tet So Percussion came in to play selected works by Reich and another US com­poser, David Lang.

The four guys were enthu­si­as­tic and excit­ing and included the audi­ence in an uncon­trived way. Most of the pieces were rhyth­mi­cally hyp­notic and lay­ered with many sub­tle tones which res­onated in the lofty ceil­ings of Heritage Hall. During Clapping Music I thought I could hear a hum from the unplayed marim­bas. I love Reich’s min­i­mal­ism and it was nice to hear some rarely per­formed works like Four Organs.

In the third part of the David Lang piece, the quar­tet played on flow­er­pots and teacups and the qual­ity of sound was some­how charm­ing and reas­sur­ing like the objects themselves.

 

The Edward Curtis Project

Kris Rothstein

photo Tim Matheson and Rita Leistner

The Edward Curtis Project was billed as a “modern-day pic­ture story” which meant that I didn’t quite know what it expect. It is, in fact, a play about famous pho­tog­ra­pher Edward Curtis and how his “Vanishing Indian” series froze its sub­jects in time. Playwright Marie Clements asks how the pic­tures might look and what they might mean when seen from a non-white perspective.
 
Angie is a jour­nal­ist hav­ing a break­down after being con­fronted with a tragic story. She con­fronts the prob­lem of how to doc­u­ment suf­fer­ing in a sym­pa­thetic way with­out los­ing sight of the larger polit­i­cal con­text of abo­rig­i­nal peo­ples liv­ing in poverty. As she strug­gles to main­tain her iden­tity and sense of his­tory, leg­endary (and long-dead) pho­tog­ra­pher Edward Curtis enters her life. Their inter­ac­tions are inter­est­ing but the point isn’t always clear and Angie’s many out­bursts and con­vul­sions are over­wrought. Curtis also has a sto­ry­line of his own but it feels tacked on and doesn’t quite mesh with the con­tem­po­rary nar­ra­tive. The stag­ing is inven­tive and effec­tive, espe­cially the pro­jec­tion of photographs.
 
The Edward Curtis Project is ambi­tious and full of intrigu­ing threads but they are never com­pletely pulled together.
 
Don’t miss the pho­to­graphic exhibit in the lobby on which Clements worked with pho­tog­ra­pher Rita Leistner in order to reimag­ine Curtis’ work. In these mov­ing pho­tographs taken in com­mu­ni­ties all over North America, the “Indian” is no longer van­ish­ing as each sub­ject is allowed to be beau­ti­ful, com­plex and mod­ern while also linked to tra­di­tions of the past. Here some of the ques­tions pro­voked by the play (What does it cost an indi­vid­ual to be looked at and dis­played?) are answered.
 
The Edward Curtis Project plays until January 31st at Presentation House in North Vancouver.

PuSh Festival Looms

Kris Rothstein

January 14, 2010

phots by Janette Beckman

Arts and cul­ture lovers, it’s a good time of year. PuSH fes­ti­val goes on for more than two weeks and if you ven­ture out you will see some of the most inno­v­a­tive and inter­est­ing the­atre, dance, per­for­mance art, music and weird unde­fin­able stuff. It’s enter­tain­ing and chal­leng­ing and totally not pre­ten­tious. It’s one of the only times you might mis­take Vancouver for New York.

I’m excited about So Percussion per­form­ing works by Steve Reich and David Lang. I’m also look­ing for­ward to see­ing The Passion Project, one of two shows which reimag­ine the clas­sic silent film, The Passion of Joan of Arc. If you want to know how they turn out check back here!

Buzz also sur­rounds Before Before, which promises to “pull the multi-player video game out of the vir­tual realm” and adapt it for a the­atre set­ting. I don’t know quite what to expect but what­ever it is it will be worth see­ing. The Show Must Go On seems to include a group of locals inte­greated into some kind of theatre/dance per­for­mance. Some of the cast are describ­ing the rehearsals in the PuSH blog. It starts Wednesday and a bunch more stuff starts Thursday.

Why you should like mumblecore

Kris Rothstein

October 23, 2009
Beeswax_1.jpg

Beeswax is the latest film from Andrew Bujalski, the godfather of mumblecore. You know about mumblecore, right? Maybe you read about this latest US indie filmmaking style in the New Yorker earlier this year. Maybe you got in on the ground floor. Anyway these films are usually super low-budget, often with improvised scripts and non-professional actors. They usually focus on a new generation of slacker types and their relationships. Bujalski’s characters aren’t usually that young (they usually seem to have been out of school for a while), but they are people who don’t have ‘accomplished’ lives – or if they do there is still something shambolic about their circumstances. Beeswax is pretty pro compared to earlier films – it’s in colour and it even kind of has a plot.

Jeannie and Lauren are twin sisters living in Austin, Texas. Most of the action stems from the friction between Jeannie and her business partner in the vintage clothing store she runs. Will the bitchy Amanda really come through with a lawsuit? Jeannie has to turn to her ex Merrill, who is almost a lawyer, for advice. This is probably the first time I have even seen a character/actor in a wheelchair where absolutely nothing about the plot has to do with them being in a wheelchair. That was cool.

This was my very last film festival movie and I wasn’t sure that I had the energy to power through. But I’m so glad I made the effort to get to Beeswax. It is charming and funny and a real pleasure to see the nuances and humdrum details of life through Bujalski’s lens.

Soul Birds - a film about life and dying

Kris Rothstein

October 20, 2009
soulbird.jpg
Thomas Riedelsheimer is the director whose extraordinary eye for detail and beauty brought us Rivers and Tides, about the Scottish environmental artists Andy Goldsworthy (one of my favourite films) and Touch the Sound, about the vibrant deaf percussionist Evelyn Glennie. Both documentaries go places most films don’t, illuminating art and creativity and taking our breath away. Soul Birds is a much different film, and it arose when the director met medical personnel who work with terminally ill children. These people had a special energy, he said at the screening, and he wondered if this was a gift from the children themselves.

The film was several years in the making because it was a challenge to find families who were able to allow a director into their lives at such a difficult time. The children of Soul Birds are fifteen year old Pauline, ten year old Richard and six year old Lenni, all afflicted with leukemia. Lenni has been ill most of his life, born with Down’s Syndrome and dealing with heart trouble. Despite his pain he knows nothing but love for his parents and his siblings. Richard is a new patient and in isolation during intensive treatment. With so much time alone he develops a sophisticated understanding of the thin line between life and death. And beautiful, vivacious Pauline who has relapsed twice has decided not to endure another round of treatment. She meditates and does qi gong, acts in plays with her sister and laughs like any teenager. Her diary is wise and heartbreaking as she wonders about the soul and what may or may not be scary about death. She is serene but she wants so badly to live. Riedelsheimer’s approach is intensely cinematic, exploring the internal light of each character rather than conducting informational interviews or providing backstory. His camera knows when to linger on grass or a fence or a face. It is difficult not to be affected by this powerful film.

Prom Night in Mississippi

Kris Rothstein

October 18, 2009
prom.jpg

Another great feel-good American documentary with a story that is inspiring and uplifting but also sad and disturbing. In the small town of Charleston, Mississippi a few hundred kids have attended the local high school together since it was desegregated in the 1970s. But a segregated prom has persisted even though it’s not what most of the kids want. Actor Morgan Freeman calls this town home and he made an offer to the school to sponsor an integrated prom; his offer wasn’t accepted until 2008, perhaps because he showed up with a film crew (with Canadian filmmaker Paul Saltzman at the helm).

In some ways the project is unsuccessful. Yes, most of the members of the senior class share a party together, given this chance to socialize and see that nothing “dangerous” will happen (this seems to be the main concern of staff and parents – like what dangerous thing is going to happen?). But a small group of parents organize their own white prom, for white kids only, even the ones they don’t particularly like. One boy talks from behind a screen, telling the camera that his parents will disown him if they know he does not support their racism and is perfectly comfortable with both white and black classmates. Jessica (kind of the star of the show) describes transcending her abusive home situation where her stepfather threatened to beat her if she had black friends. The sweetest characters are Heather and Jeremy, the school’s only interracial couple, who are inseparable but do not date in public because they do not have the support of the town. Prom Night celebrates the hope and energy of young people but also focuses on the complex nature of race relations in the rural South to this day.

Karelian Cowgirls - the best short

Kris Rothstein

October 17, 2009
karelia.jpgKarelian Cowgirls was by far the best short I saw at the film fest. In 1939 Finnish girls received orders to move their family cattle away from the Russian troops and off into the deep snow they went. Now the ladies gather to talk about those extraordinary past days. Here's the cool trailer.

The film festival is official over and done for 2009 - here's a list of the films that won awards. Also the Vancity theatre is playing some favourites until Tuesday the 20th. You have another chance to see 65_RedRoses, Nora's Will and Only When I Dance. Also Queen to Play which I really wanted to see but didn't have the chance.
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