Jen Cody in Geva’s “Hard Cell”

Several years ago, at a Geva fundraiser, I “won” a live auction bid to have dinner or coffee with Jen Cody, who was going to be starring in Sylvia the next season.  Unfortunately, her run in Rochester coincided with her father falling ill and dying, so it was not a good time to impose further on her generosity. How she managed to go on stage and give us those amazing performances portraying a dog, while dealing with personal loss, is a wonder, and a credit to her professionalism. Our date would have to wait... But it was only a matter of time before she’d return to our stage, and Hard Cell turned out to be the perfect vehicle for her.

So, the day before I saw the show, I had a lovely lunch with her at Amore. Of course, I forgot to ask her some of the questions I’d had, like what it was like to be in Andrew Lippa’s The Wild Party (incredibly, there were two different musicals that year based on the same 1928 poem, and she was in the least awful production…). Or what it was like to live a partly nomadic life. Although I did ask her a few questions right out of the gate, our lunch was more of a conversation than an interview (I think?). I learned that even though she grew up in the suburbs of Rochester, she never went to Geva as a child. Instead, she went on school trips to New York City to see shows. And it was a production of Noises Off that opened her eyes to the possibility of acting as a career. She said she’d started out as a dancer (and now I’m wondering, was she the sprightly young actress I vaguely recall bouncing all over the Wild Party stage? I might just have to bid on dinner with her again to get some answers), and I loved her comparison of timing (and math!) in dance to comedic timing. And yes, she really is that petite, and apparently after the set for Geva's Women in Jeopardy was built, they had to lower some of it so that she could be seen by the audience over it!

Jen is such a “regular” person, that we also just talked about regular stuff – her rescue dog from Puerto Rico’s Dead Dog Beach, the gentrification of New York City, and Rochester winter. We also talked a bit about the current play, a world premiere, and her feeling that it deserves to be seen by a wider audience. 

Hard Cell was truly enjoyable, and all of the actors in it (although there wasn’t enough Jen Cody…) were marvelous – the four whose characters were more caricatures as well as the one whose wasn’t, and served as kind of an anchor. The show definitely requires you to suspend rationality at points that are required for comedic effect, but it’s worth it. The show runs through February 3, and tickets are still available at www.geva.org

Singing with the ROS, with the RPO

Eric Townell leading ROS rehearsal

I haven’t sung in a large mixed chorus since I lived in Connecticut, over 20 years ago. I sang with two choruses there: the Greenwich Choral Society and the Fairfield County Chorale, but neither suited me. I quit the first after I was fired from being music librarian, a job I was “volunteered” for… I quit the second because I disliked the director, who was much more passionate about his boy choir gig (after his death, his preference for young boys became clearer…). Plus, all that religious music large choruses sing... But when I learned last spring that the Rochester Oratorio Society (ROS) would be singing two of my all-time favorite large choral works – Carmina Burana and Chichester Psalms – I couldn’t resist the temptation to audition.

Chichester Psalms

My college chorus performed this work, and even though Bernstein is very specific that the soprano soloist NOT be a woman, I am quite sure I recall ours being female, albeit with a ‘boyish’ voice. Later, as my fanaticism for Stephen Sondheim developed and I devoured any book on him I could find, I learned this fascinating nugget:

“Bernstein was nothing if not utilitarian with his music, and the ‘Officer Krupke’ tune appeared on Sondheim’s desk because it had been cut from Candide…. Less well known than the exchanges with Candide is the fact that a rejected first-scene number for the Jets, ‘Mix!’ reappeared nine years later as the ‘Lama rag’shu goyim’ section of the slow movement of Chichester Psalms. Few choristers singing this work can have been aware that the ‘heathen’ were originally raging to Sondheim’s words.

            Mix!

            Make a mess of ‘em!

            Pay the Puerto Ricans back, 

            Make a mess of ‘em!

            If you let us take a crack,

            There’ll be less of ‘em,

            There’ll be less of ‘em.”                                 

(Sondheim’s Broadway Musicals, Stephen Banfield, pp. 35-36)

Carmina Burana – so many consonants, so little time!

This piece is just pure pleasure, both to sing and to hear. Back in my NYC days, I attended a summer sing at Carnegie Hall of this score, and sang a lot of “ta ta ta” instead of the words - I had no chance of actually learning them properly in the two-hour session. So, I looked forward to spending quality time with it under Eric Townell’s expert direction (I am also greatly impressed with his rehearsal management skills). I am taking his first-rehearsal advice to the chorus that “it’s important to sing so your voice feels healthy at the end of it” very seriously, because both performances are going to be long nights! Luckily, the ROS has already performed this work 14 times since the late 1950s (when they actually received a good-luck telegram for Carl Orff himself!), and many times recently, so the core chorus is already capable of performing it. That makes it easier for a newbie to learn, although it’s been a challenge erasing from my mind the spoof lyrics of one of my favorite YouTube videos: O Four Tuna. 

This is going to be an amazing experience to be a part of, and it will be a terrific concert to attend. The ROS is the most organized chorus I’ve ever been a part of, and of course you can’t beat singing with the RPO. I’m also excited that four of our out-of-town friends are going to visit us specially to hear this concert!

For more information on the concert and tickets, click here: RPO website

(What I write is my personal view. That's obviously always true, but I've been asked to add that disclaimer.)

Election Inspection

I have never given much thought to the people who work at our polling station – the ones who check you in and give you the ballot, or the ones who help out at the machines. But after taking a 3-hour training session (and a test!) to become an election inspector, I have a newfound respect for the individuals who take on this civic duty.

Although I was warned by my friend Nanette, who acted as an election inspector in Florida, I didn’t believe that the process would be similar here in New York. The warning wasn’t about the duties (they’re fairly rote, unless an exception occurs), but about the hours – morning till night. I envisioned a shift of, I don’t know, 4 hours? 6 at the most? Nope. In New York, inspectors have to arrive at 5am, an hour before the polls open, and cannot leave until 10pm, an hour after the polls close. My mind went numb at the thought, but I was too embarrassed to get up and leave the training only 15 minutes into it. And once I heard what is involved, I understood the need for the long day, since any discontinuity would provide an opportunity for compromising the integrity of the process.

The Image Cast machine,
which keeps a paper
audit trail

The attention to detail, and allowances for all sorts of exceptions, like incorrect markings, over-voting, spoiled ballots, and ballot reconciliation, is impressive. New York also has several laws aimed at making voting accessible: machines that are handicap accessible (and not just for people in wheelchairs, but for the blind, as well), Spanish interpreters in districts with a certain percentage of Spanish speakers, and the lack of requirement for identification (other than a non-rigorous signature authentication). 

Very specific table setup instructions!

Although I went into the training thinking it was something I could volunteer for, it turns out that election inspectors are paid $11/hour. So now I actually think it’s my duty not to be an inspector, but to let those who needs that money earn it. My civic duty, which I take very much to heart, is to show up on Election Day, vote, and thank them for their service.

I certainly hope that this election brings record turnout for a mid-term (unlike a Republican associate’s actual out-loud hope for bad weather, which tends to decrease minority voting), and that the egregious Republican attacks on minority voting rights in states like Georgia, Kansas, and North Dakota are corrected by the 2020 election. It is mind-numbing that in the 21^stcentury voter-suppression is still a thing. 

“The Rocky Horror Show” at Blackfriars Theatre

While I had never seen a live performance of The Rocky Horror Show, I have no idea how many times I’ve seen the movie version. I remember going to Georgetown in the late 70’s, to the midnight show, and knowing most of the audience lines, and, of course, all of the music by heart. That’s when I fell in love with Tim Curry (and I know I wasn’t the only one, regardless of gender!). I even bought a maid’s outfit so that I could dress up as “Magenta.”

I’m always a bit hesitant to see a performance of a show whose movie version has been indelibly imprinted in my mind (the recent Broadway version of Mary Poppins comes to mind as a huge disappointment, for example). But I hadn’t been to Blackfriars in a couple of years, and I loved both of the only shows I’d seen there (Grey Gardens and Assassins), and I’m a sucker for a musical, so… 

I went to a Sunday matinee, because I wanted to go to the post-show talk-back. Everything about the performance was first-rate – the cast, the set, the costumes, and the way it paid homage to the film but also allowed itself freedom for its own creativity. The production begins and ends with a brilliant bit of film and live interaction, and by the time “Brad” and “Janet” set foot on the stage, the audience knows it’s in good hands.

At this performance, there was, sadly, very little audience participation. Although the two women next to me knew their lines cold, they were practically whispering, because they were a bit shy. The three of us did manage to almost-shout “Say it!” when “Frank-N-Furter” taunts, “I see you shiver with anticip…” But so many of the audience “callbacks” are not really callbacks as much as they are callforwards– anticipating the next actor line (like asking “what’s your favorite science fiction TV show?” in the brief pause between the narrator’s “lost in time” and “lost in space.”) And as the Blackfriars’ website says, “it’s all in the timing!” So, the actors need to allow the beat, in case the audience chimes in, but also need to keep the pacing when the audience is unwilling or unable to contribute. And they did.

At the talk-back, all of the actors introduced themselves, and most had been performing since they were teens or pre-teens. The set, built in just four weeks, is apparently one of Blackfriars’ most complex and expansive. Unfortunately, it will not travel with the cast when they take the show to the Laurie Beechman Theatre in New York City on January 11 (yes, they’re taking a concert/cabaret presentation to NYC!), because that dinner theatre is too small to accommodate it. But I’m going to encourage all of my city friends to go see this wonderful cast. And I’m sure they will all fall in love with Ed Popil, aka Mrs. Kasha Davis. (Now I must see Drag Story Hour with Mrs. Kasha Davis...)

The show has been extended to November 11, and is selling out. For more info about the show and the season, visit blackfriars.org

"Thurgood" at Geva Theatre

“Thurgood” was the production in Geva’s season I was most looking forward to, and it did not disappoint. The one-man play, by George Stevens, Jr., focuses primarily on Thurgood Marshall’s accomplishments leading up to his being appointed to the Supreme Court. Lester Purry, as directed by Lou Bellamy, carries the almost 2-hour show (plus an intermission) seamlessly, and encourages audience input and applause at appropriate moments (a different audience demographic might need less encouragement, but alas, today’s traditional theatre audience has been trained to respect the fourth wall, and it’s hard to break through, even when invited). I was riveted.

Charles Isherwood’s New York Times review of the 2008 Broadway production was polite, but less than enthusiastic, calling the play “essentially an opportunity to watch a movie star deliver a history lecture” and a “superficially dry evening of theater.” He commented about the play through the lens of then-current events: “the presidential candidacy of Senator Barack Obama putting a renewed focus on the legacy of racism, as it is viewed by Americans both black and white, the play serves as a healthy reminder that separate drinking fountains, to cite one shameful practice, are just a generation or two in the past.” 

Unfortunately, Americans continue to need these history lectures, especially as the dark underbelly of racism and hatred has been returned to the light by our current President. MAGA is a blatant nod to the era of white supremacy that his supporters want to return to. A passage late in the play “serve(s) as a stark reminder of how radically the court evolves over the years as its makeup changes.” And this was before the Republican Party hijacked the nomination of Justice Scalia’s replacement and then threw out all future attempts at bipartisanship by changing the number of votes needed to confirm a Supreme Court judge (to be fair, the Democrats aren't blameless - they went "nuclear" for other nominees several years earlier). Only time will tell if Democrats are rightly afraid of the regressive potential Kavenaugh’s recent divisive appointment provides.

There were many moving moments during the play, but perhaps the most moving came at the end, when the play quotes lines of the Langston Hughes’ poem “Let America Be America Again.” Not surprisingly, my high school AmLit class didn’t include this poet, so I googled it to read it in its entirety: READ HERE. Wow. 

Kudos to Geva for giving us this play this season. The fact that this story of racism still resonates makes me wonder if, sadly, there will never be a time when it does not.

“Thurgood” runs through November 18. More info at: www.geva.org

Subscription Addiction

My addiction to performing arts subscriptions began in my late 20s-early 30s in New York City, when, despite not loving opera, I subscribed to both the Metropolitan and the New York City Operas!? Those quickly gave way to the ballet (mostly New York City Ballet, which I maintained throughout my temporary move to London and only reluctantly gave up after moving to Rochester) and theatre (Manhattan Theatre Company and Roundabout Theatre). In Morristown, we subscribed to a performing arts center that presented a mix of performances: dance, comedy, concerts (classical and pop), etc. It was one of the things I missed most moving to Rochester. 

Early on I realized the benefits of subscribing: locking in your preferred seats, theoretically getting the best ticket price (although a poor-selling stinker might end up selling tickets cheaper, since theatre seats are wasting assets; and as I’ve gotten more educated about non-profit arts organizations, I’ve felt a moral obligation to make donations to them to help offset the discount, because I am lucky to be able), and getting preferred access to add-on shows. In 2014, between subscriptions and additional shows I couldn’t live without, I attended my all-time high in a calendar year: 66 performances. (And that didn’t include the ones I performed in as a member of a chorus.)

This season (which corresponds to school, not calendar year) I’m taking it to new heights; in addition to the usual subscriptions at Geva, RPO (half classical, half pops), Eastman Presents, and Nazareth (mostly Rochester City Ballet (RCB), but not exclusively) … Blackfriars Theatre beckoned. That comes to almost 30 performances, before I starting adding and subtracting (yes, there is one show at Geva I will give our tickets away for, since we saw it on Broadway and didn’t enjoy it then; and there’s an RPO concert I probably won’t get to hear, but that’s the subject of a future blog…). Charlie is a peach to come along for the ride on most of these, although he draws the line at dance and more than one theatre subscription.

Shaw Festival Artistic Director Program Notes

I love sitting in a hall with lots of strangers and experiencing a live performance together. I love turning off my cell phone for an hour or two, and turning my mind from current events to let it be entertained and transported for a brief moment. I love a memorably good show, and even the memorably bad ones can provide laughs for years to come. I love my thick folder of tickets to performances to look forward to that will slowly deplete as we inch towards May. Mostly, I love my role as audience!

Niagara-on-the-Lake

How great is it to live just under a 2-hour drive from an incredibly gorgeous town in another country? This was my third time to Niagara-on-the-Lake (NOTL): the first was in 2009, as part of a “Maggie Tours” bike trip (Charlie’s least favorite bike “organization,” since it means he schlepps the bikes…), and the second was in 2014 after an overnight at the Inn on the Twenty, where we met up with my other regular bridge partner and her husband. 

NOTL can be done as a day trip from Rochester, and when Nanette planned her recent visit north around going to the Shaw Festival, we almost did that, but ended up spending two nights there, to give us time to wander around the town and also play in a regional bridge tournament in St. Catherine’s. 

Nine years ago, the “tour” included an extremely forgettable play at the Shaw Festival, but I chose it because it fit with our biking schedule. This year, Nanette chose two shows, again, based on what would be playing the Wednesday of her visit. Neither one of the shows was forgettable, although The Baroness and the Pig was truly awful. As we sat in the park, recovering from the blistering heat and admiring the view of the Niagara River meeting Lake Ontario, we shared our personal reviews before Nanette checked professional ones on her phone. We were spot on! 

The other show, Oh What a Lovely War, was an intriguing and powerful revue loosely telling the story of World War I from a distinctly Canadian point of view. Although it was written several decades ago, it included some personal stories by the actors, as well as references to current events (my favorite – the Russian official telling the British, American, and French officials that they were all puppets!). There were pointed references to the slights to indigenous people, Negroes, and women (suffrage in Canada was achieved piecemeal, starting in 1917, but wasn't fully inclusive of Asians and Inuit until the 1950s), and more than one jab at America (e.g., always arriving late to the war). There were multiple acknowledgements of the "First Nations peoples," thanking them for their "stewardship of these lands" and "their ongoing and important roles in the caretaking of the lands beneath our feet" (lands which were stolen from the indigenous people in Canada and the United States...).

All of the actors displayed great versatility as they quickly changed characters from sketch to sketch. Nanette and I occasionally had trouble with the French and Russian accents, but we got the gist of it. 

The most moving part of attending the Shaw Festival was the playbill message from Artistic Director Tim Carroll. Definitely worth reading in full, rather than me quoting an excerpt. 

one of my favorite dress shops!

We also did our bit to help support the local economy – we both bought some lovely Canadian clothes and assorted other trinkets, and we had some delicious meals. I mustn’t wait another 4-5 years before going back next time!