From the very beginning of the piece we are tipped off that this will not be a linear narrative, when a young red headed white man comes out and introduces Reggie Watts, but the next person to enter the stage unexpectedly is a white woman. When on stage she recites yet another sort of introduction to the art we are getting ready to see, and establishes that the artistic work in the piece seeks to “challenge perspective in a seemingly unchanging world.” In terms of logic I am not entirely sure if the preface given is in regard to the following movie sequence that plays, or if she’s speaking for the whole of the piece. I am certain it pertains to both.

At the beginning of the piece the movement feels like with each change we are moving further and further away from reality. When we finally meet Reggie Watts, he is a large black man with funky hair, dressed in white garb, and is speaking with an English accent. Yet again he reaffirms that the world we are entering is unfamiliar by saying, “What world is this, let me just say that the answer is not to be arrived at so soon…” The first time through this piece I somehow missed all of these warning signs, and it took me watching the piece a second time to understand even vaguely that throughout the piece we would be dealing with distance and perspective.

Reggie’s ability to play on words, beyond the contemporary vernacular is impressive, and extremely hilarious. There are moments where I thought that he might be taking a page from Shakespeare’s work, but its simply coming from his brain. In the progression of his Shakespearean speech, I loose the trajectory of his thoughts. He is speaking passionately, and yet it seems as if he isn’t saying anything. There are plenty of other times in the performance that his work runs off into an abstract land, and you’re left wondering what the end point was. No matter how annoying it may be, I know that Reggie does in fact have a purpose. However, it drove me crazy trying to figure out where the serious content of the piece was.

In one particular speech Reggie begins by saying in a very serious tone by saying, “I don’t know if you guys remember you were when it happened. I was in the place where we heard about it first. I was on second ave. lower east side Manhattan. I was on the phone, and then I lost the call…” As he continues to speak about this moment “where he first heard,” he describes two flying objects and an aftermath of two smoke clouds. Given these circumstances, my brain immediately jumps to the events of 911, as most of our brains would. But not Reggie, instead he continues to describe how New York was hit by a solar flare—which is entirely possible, it still is absurd.

Perhaps one of the biggest keys into Reggie’s work comes during on of his transition. After reciting this Shakespearean monologue, he starts djing and singing this perhaps improvised song about technology while wearing a shirt that reads, “subvert the subversion.” Finally in this moment, it becomes clear that is his purpose with this piece.
For the most part, moment-by-moment I understood the logic of the performance, but I had a hard time understanding what larger questions or message the piece was presenting. While reading thoughts around the work, it became clear that I wasn’t the only one who was struggling with understanding work as a whole.

In order to better understand Reggie’s work I had to watch another piece of his work, so I watched a music video of his called “Fuck Shit Stack.” After watching this video, which is out-right hilarious, I understood Reggie’s work so much more. He seems to be really interested in the origin of meanings, particularly words, and finding away challenge the meaning we place subject through the labels we place on it.

For audiences who have seen more of Reggie’s work, they say that his work tends to mirror itself. Most of the physical media images are re-used, and the structure of them are beyond similar. This is a curious idea for me, because I would like to know why Reggie would remake a new project that only slightly deviates from one previous created? If I were to attempt to answer this question given Reggie’s work, I would guess that because of his interest in subversion around how we define art.

I couldn’t tell whether or not I hated this performance, or whether I loved it. As I watched the piece, I constantly wanted to stop it and find something else to watch, so I could actually write a review. It was really a tribute to Reggie Watt’s showmanship, and the fact that I had to write a review about it that I stayed engaged. This is a piece of theatre that will unravel for me throughout the years.

I am not even sure how I can accurately describe what those opening moments were for me. All I know is that my jaw hit the floor, my eyes widened, and I was a 6 year-old girl again. The show began with a graffiti artist tagging a wall, which brought forth a third dimension created by him jumping into a screen. I don’t have the right words to describe the magic that was created.

The Andersen Project was inspired by the diaries of children fairytale writer, Hans Christian Andersen. Lepage delves into the mysteries of a writer whose conflicted psychology plays out in his lesser known tales written more for auto-therapy than for the delight of children. In this one-man show, actor Yves Jacques plays a Canadian rock-‘n-roll writer who is unexpectedly commissioned by the Opéra Garnier in Paris to write a libretto for a children’s opera. Arriving in Paris, he discovers that his living quarters are on the last floor of a building that is also home to a peep show in the city’s red light district. Yves transforms into various different characters, and together Lepage explores the resonances between the characters. The production is a theatrical story telling, in which multimedia serve as other actors on stage. Everything from the lights, to the projection made this performance feel like a rock concert. The piece had a definite European sensibility to it that comes in its rapid changes rhythms, which aided the humor in the story telling.

As a disclaimer projection theatre is something that I am often extremely hesitant about, because I believe that the beauty of theatre lies in transformation. However The Andersen Project found a way to write a story where the actor and the design were able to create a hyper-transformative space. The design elements served as a scene partner and help extend the audience’s imagination to better understand and access the world being created. Somehow the production managed to be both outrageous, and incredibly intimate.

Perhaps my favorite moment of the production was when Yves explores Andersen’s love life. Suddenly a female manikin comes out on a track and Yves uses her to share about Hans’ experiences with love, and they begin to dance. The dance begins as a delicate courtship, and then progresses into a disturbing ripping off of the manikin’s clothes. This action illuminated the sexual repression and violence in Hans Christian Andersen’s life in a beautiful way. I was intrigued by the use of light, not necessarily on a large scale, but during the more intimate moments. There was a moment where a shadow dance was created by the use of a light fixture, when Arnaud was tucking his daughter into bed. As an artist I enjoy working with singular light sources, and exploring all the interesting things you can find through expanding its use.

After watching The Andersen Project, I spent a long time trying to figure out what the central message was of the piece. Then I recalled one of the final images of the piece where Yves Jacques stands in front of an audience, and declares that “theatre is an art form that takes us back to our caveman days when our ancestors stood around fires to tell stories and employed the use of shadows to convey other characters and other voices.” This moment was extremely moving because for the past 2 hours we’ve watched a montage of scenic surprise, and at the core of it was story telling. Simple story telling like the cavemen practiced, yet Lepage used our modern tools to tell a deeply mythological story.

Theatre is moving in an epic direction. In a very Greek sense audiences are seeking a form of theatre that incites them viscerally, and The Andersen Project does just that. The production team seems to be ahead of the curve with the creation of this piece. I absolutely see this form of theatre becoming popular within the next few years.

Although, I must admit that there were times when my senses were accosted by sound and light, but I think that could be expected for an audience member who is new to this multimedia faceted kind of performance. If I had one qualm with the production, it would be that the performance could have been shorter. There was an element that felt like the design was running an Olympic marathon, and had to continue to top it’s previous record. Otherwise the piece was thoroughly enjoyable.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is the final play of August Wilson’s century cycle to be produced at The Huntington. The play follows the legendary 1920s blues singer Ma Rainey and her musicians gather in a run-down Chicago studio to record new sides of old favorites when generational and racial tensions suddenly explode. Overall the production was well received throughout Boston. The production had a beautiful set, and an all-star cast, but for a few particular reasons the production didn’t come alive for me.

Music is a major component in all of August Wilson’s work, and it’s a factor that I love. In his work music usually serves a way to unravel the text, or to illuminate some of the undertones of piece. I was struck that in this piece, which is about a Jazz singer, there wasn’t a lot of music. However I know that in the text Wilson didn’t write in more music, as a way to show the tug-of-war between the generations through conflict over the style of the song. The generational divide really spoke to me, and I thought that Liesl Tommy added an interesting flare by capping each of the acts with Michael Jackon’s “They don’t really care about us.” Although adding these bookend montages helped illuminate modern day race relations, the concept felt like it hit the audience on the nose.

While I understand that as a director we must somehow answer how this piece speaks to contemporary audiences, I think that the montages simply served as fillers and the idea behind doing this play now was not woven throughout the story telling. In my opinion, what made the montage and the action of play feel disconnect was the scenic layout. In all cases it is a scenic designer’s responsibility to create a space where the story can be heard. If the production team wanted to tell the story that White America didn’t and still don’t care about Black America, then having the actors come out in modern clothing on a very specific 1920s set becomes confusing. As the audience I get pulled out of the reality of piece.

Historical accuracy is important in Wilson’s century cycle, so I am not suggesting that we ignore the social climate of the time. However I am saying that overall the historical accuracy manifested itself in ways within the set that made it difficult to hear the langue of the piece. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, unlike other of Wilson’s plays, is a langue play. This means that words and story telling are the most important factors to tell the story. The conflict that exists in the play exists between the characters, which means that how bodies move in space is more important that having a scenic layout that is historically accurate.

There were many important questions being posed in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom such as: Is God dead? How does the black community deal with rage? Who is allowed to play the role of the victim? What are the expectations of women/ stereotypes of black men? How much must we hold on the past/ What is our connection to it? The text births timeless questions, but I had a hard time hearing them in the Huntington’s production.

Jose Antonio Abreu is an: economist, musician, reformer, and founder of El Sistema. In 1975 he created El Sistema (“the system”), as a way to help Venezuelan kids take part in classical music. Now, El Sistema is a nationwide organization of 102 youth orchestras, 55 children’s orchestras, and 270 music centers — and close to 250,000 young musicians.

This training system creates a medium for children to train and realize their potential. El Sistema is heavily supported by the Venezuelan government, so during the earlier stages of their development students are given an instrument, and undergo serious training.

By using the arts as a vehicle to provide opportunities to vulnerable children and youth, El Sistema increased the likelihood that its beneficiaries would live a long and healthier life; have access to knowledge and a decent standard of living; and fully participate in their communities. These students are not trained only as musicians, but as citizens.

It is impressive to see the arts being used to inspire change for these youth in such a large way. El Sistema understands that the children are the future, and if you can shape and change their lives then the entire country can feel the affects. El Sistema does exist in the US, but for each region the system operates differently. Here in the program does not come by funding so easily– which is saddening. It’s idealistic, but I wish the US could see the influence of the arts, and loosen their pursestrings accordingly.

Check out Maestro Abreu’s TED Talk: Jose Abreu on Kids Transformed by Music

In Buenos Aires there is a class of people called cartoneros—cardboard collectors. The economy is so devastating, that inorder to survive citizens are forced to resort to sorting through the day’s trash in search of recyclable material, to be exchanged for money. Cartoneros pick out paper, cardboard, metal, and glass to help support their family.

In 2006 there was a documentary created about Los Cartoneros. Cartoneros tracks the paper recycling process in Buenos Aires from the trash pickers who collect paper informally through middlemen in warehouses, to executives in large corporate mills. The process exploded into a multimillion dollar industry after Argentina’s latest economic collapse. The film is both a record of an economic and social crisis and an invitation to audiences to rethink the value of trash.

Not only do these recyclable materials serve as monetary value, but the materials have also been used to create art. The picture above is an example of this art that has been created by the materials. I have yet to see the film, but I know it can be found on netflix.It’s inspiring to see how citizens can create something beautiful, even during hard times using found objects.

Check out the website for more information: http://www.cartonerosdoc.com/

While on Spring Break, I was able to buy standing-room tickets to see Book of Mormon. I entered into the production not having read up on it, despite its acclaim. From the the title I could assume it was clearly about Mormons, and because my mother is Mormon I know a little bit about the religion. With my little knowledge I was curious about how a musical would speak about these complex issues.

The musical was incredibly smart, and I enjoyed it a great deal. Since the performance I have gone back and read up on what it took to get Book of Mormon to broadway. I stumbled upon this wonderful interview with Nikki M. James, where she speaks about her first reactions to the script. At first read, she was taken by the subject matters, and nervous about how the musical would be received. The piece was developed confidentially, and the all the actors had to sign contracts so that they wouldn’t leak any material.

As someone who watches South Park, I loved the humor. I was surprised that I found myself laughing at subjects that I otherwise would’ve been appalled by–particularly during the song Hasa Diga Eebowa, which means “fuck you God.”

The show has been running for quite some time, and has been incredibly successful. Overall I was impressed by the production, and the writing.

I was recently called in for an audition at The Huntington, for a production of INVISIBLE MAN, which is based off of the Ralph Ellison novel. The novel concerns itself with an idealistic young African-American man searches for identity and his place in the world in this epic journey through 1930s America. Ellison’s novel focuses on race, power, freedom, and liberty.

In preparation for the audition, I requested that the script be sent to me. I had the opportunity to read the play. When I finished, every fiber of my being was ignited with passion. This is a story that needs to be told. I had read Ellison’s novel a few years back and felt the same way then. The adaptation takes all of its text from the novel, but the way it is woven together, and the way the director has envisioned it bring new life to it.

Chris McElroen, whose work you might know from the production of Waiting For Godot in New Orleans, is the director for the production. In his direction for the play he was inspired by Pina Baush electroshock therapy. There are a number of instances where the Invisible Man is either being beat up by life or physically being beat up. Chris uses the idea that the Invisible Man is being held by a harness and tether that he struggles against when he is receiving the electric shocks.

Also the concept of light vs. darkness is important to the piece. The set’s ceiling is comprised of various hanging lights, and the ceiling can move up and down. This allows the set to trap the Invisible Man, which is extremely interesting. This is a production that whether-or-not I am casted in, will certainly be on my radar.

One of the biggest lesson I learned was that, it is important to determine whether the reality of the event, or the reality of the fiction is more important.  This means deciding whether-or-not a piece needs to be historically accurate, or if you can take liberties and create a more abstract space. In my particular design project for August Wilson’s Gem of the Ocean, after weeks of floundering, I realized that reality of the event was most important. I had the epiphany that since the characters were going on a spiritual journey, that the set needed rooted in a singular location. Instead supporting the story, I became more interested in how to make the space exciting.  This is a pitfall for many young scenic designers, which became clear after having a conversation with Jim Noone.

While I was over at the Huntington Jim Noone showed me this incredible model that he created for Luck of The Irish, and it was this simple wooden set of a house. Everything from floor, to the windows was made of wood. In the case of Luck of the Irish he realized that because the story moves throughout times so actively, it becomes increasingly important for the location to stay the same.

After he explained how the set functions he said, “It is a designer’s job to create a world where the story can be told, and the actors can be heard. Too many designers forget this. They begin to fuss with the set, when it isn’t really about them—it’s about the actors being able to tell the story. Design requires humility.”

I know that this may seem like a simple concept, but I have never heard a scenic designer talk about how their craft demands humility. I then related the concept of humility back to my work as an actor, as an actor my job is simply tell the story. I have to give that story all the ingredients it needs to be heard, and that requires setting my pride aside.

Here is Kirsten Greenidge, a prolific playwright, who is being produced for the first time by the Huntington Theatre Company– where she was playwriting fellow!! I know that there are many factors, including timing, that prevented Kristen’s work from being produced there sooner. None-the-less, I still find it unsettling that a theatre company who was deeply invested in cultivating an artist’s voice, could still have a difficult time producing that artist’s work. I understand that the regional theatre is a tough nut to crack, but the reality of that, compounded by me reading plenty of articles that discussed the lack of women’s voice in theatre made my head reel.

Somewhere amidst the head reeling I realized that while I am a strong advocate for diversity (of all sorts) in the theatre, I am not the one who needs convincing. Rather it’s the people who have the most power who need convincing. Unfortunately those in power tend to be white-heterosexual-men, and until they understand the necessity of diversity there will continue to be a lack of color in the arts.

What I enjoy most about theatre is that it can reflect the world, and re-imagine it into something powerfully beautiful. It is not only up to me to be a champion for diversity, but you, my classmates to acknowledge its importance. We’re lucky to have Ilana, a forward thinker, who challenges us to engage with that that is foreign. That forward thinking is something that I we can’t lose touch with after graduation.

One man in the audience who participated in the experience, was deeply affected by an image of two men laying next to one another. For him, having just had his family break-up, he didn’t se the two men as being gay. Rather he saw a man laying with himself, struggling trying to figure out where he went wrong. Here a straight man saw himself.

Perhaps the most difficult task in producing this work was convince the prison to all the play to take place on theirs site, prison simply didn’t see the point. Many of the prison staff were completely unaware of who was gay in their system and who was not. Many of them also didn’t think that there could be intimacy between two gay men, because in prison homosexuality is often depicted as aggressive and violent. However in the end the staff was able to see the “person behind the prisoner.”

In terms of the site-specific nature of this work, Jon Savage and I have been working a lot on understanding how space functions. Starting with everything from the abstract, and ending with the most site specific. This theatrical experience really crystalized a great deal for me, in regards to understanding site specific space. The contrast between being confined in prison, and finding freedom of intimate expression is incredible. On the one hand the prison acts a cage to display these intimate acts, and on the other it serves as a private place for lovers to hold each other– which is extremely effective for the story telling.

A Tender Subject really has me thinking as an artist, specifically as an artist, who is interested in race-relations. At its  core the piece is educational and challenges society, but also its simple convention makes the piece accessible.