Something that has been bugging me for a while is how arts are perceived amongst certain people who consider themselves "in the know". I'm sure this is an equivalent problem in all disciplines; however, the issue is a bit more complex in the arts world where more can be based on value judgments. However, I'm not concerned about this phenomenon as much as I am concerned with the objective nature of the field.
There is a difference between things I "like" or "not like" and things I consider good. I may like a certain concert or performance because of different things: I like the music, it is pleasing to my ears; the production is visually pleasing, etc. These things are personal to me and my subjective experience; the feelings (and words) I express may or may not be valid to anyone else - and holding a subjective interpretation against someone is not only pointless, but it is also mean. However, there is a much more objective aspect to performing arts as well - was the work or play or music performed to the specifications and expectations of the creator? In performing Beethoven, is it permissible to make cuts to the music? How about a lesser known composer such as William Schuman? Is it allowed then? Or, delving into even more murky waters, is it permissible to cut Shakespeare? Or even to reword his plays to heighten a certain aspect? Or, on an even more modern stage, is it acceptable to change a work by Sondheim, or Schwartz to fit another's "vision"?
I realize that in some instances, the second example is the most tenuous of them all - not really with Shakespeare, but translations; one person may translate a foreign language text differently than another; inevitably different productions will arise. But I believe I am more concerned with the first and third examples. In the first case it is normally unthinkable to make changes in the canon of the symphonic genre. In the third case, it happens with more and more regularity. Directors pick and choose songs, make cuts at the barest whim - and present it as their "reimagining" of the property; or even worse, they claim they have "improved" upon the original.
As a professional musician and artist, this arrogance sits very poorly with me. Frankly, if a creator of a show had particular thoughts on whether something "worked" or not - things would not have been written as they were. So, why is it that so many people feel that they know more than some of these creators? These authors and composers, in most cases, have had thousands and thousands of performances. To sit and say that one person can objectively judge subjective matters not only degrades that performance, but also calls into question everything else that person has done. And don't feed me the line of "well, if we don't do it - the audience will be bored". That is even more perposterous than anything else; frankly, if you cannot performevery note and say every word without the fear of boring your audience, then not only have you picked the wrong property, but you might possibly be in the wrong field of the performing arts.
Hello - had to run some auditions this week, so I missed (ie: forgot) Theatre Tuesday. So, here it is, only a few days late:
Kismet Book by Charles Lederer and Luther Davis Music and Lyrics by George Forrest and Robert Wright Based on the music of Alexander Borodin*
*The derivation of musical numbers in Kismet from Borodin's music is given partially as follows:
Act I "Sands Of Time":In The Steppes of Central Asia "Fate": Symphony No. 2, 1st movement, opening theme "Bazaar of The Caravans": Symphony No. 2, 4th movement, opening theme; Prince Igor, No. 17,"Polovetsian Dances, Wild Dance of the Men "Not Since Nineveh": Prince Igor, No. 1 (Prologue) & No. 17, "Polovetsian Dances" (introductory theme) "Baubles, Bangles, and Beads": Prince Igor, No. 2a and 2f (Skula and Yeroshka's music); String Quartet No. 2, 2nd Movement (Scherzo), secondary theme "Strangers in Paradise": Prince Igor, No. 17, "Polovetsian Dances", Gliding Dance of the Maidens "He's In Love!": Prince Igor, No. 17, "Polovetsian Dances", General Dance (D Major) "Gesticulate": Prince Igor, No. 15, "Aria of Khan Konchak"; Symphony No. 1, 4th Movement, opening theme
Act II
"Night of My Nights": "Sérénade" from Petite Suite for piano "And This is My Beloved": Prince Igor, No. 14 (Ovlur's theme); String Quartet No. 2, 3rd Movement (Notturno, originally in 3/4 meter), opening theme "The Olive Tree": Prince Igor, No. 23, Trio (also used in the opera's overture) "Zubediya" and "Samaris' Dance": Prince Igor, No. 2b, Song of Vladimir of Galich & No. 17, "Polovetsian Dances", Dance of the Boys and Men
Winner of 3 Tony Awards: Best Actor, Best Musical, Best Musical Conductor (retired award)
Kismet opened at the Ziegfeld Theatre in New York City on December 3, 1953 and ran for 583 performances.
Synopsis (from MTI):
At dawn outside a mosque in eleventh century Baghdad, we meet an old man, the Imam of the Mosque, who descends the steps with lantern in hand and looks to the stars. He sings "Sands of Time." Four muezzins appear, calling the faithful to prayers in song, and waking several beggars who complain of the noise and then more generally of the rigors of a beggar's life: "Get up! Start suffering!" As the beggars begin their day's work, some whirling dervishes appear, as does Omar Khayyam, Court Poet of the Calyph of Baghdad and the author of the Rubaiyat. Omar is disappointed to find that Hajj, his regular beggar, is traveling to Mecca. He withholds the coin from the others: "I'm too old to switch beggars now."
A cry is heard from afar: "It's the public poet," cries a beggar, "Hide your money!" The Poet sings, "Rhymes Have I," designed to loose a coin from the tightest grasp. He brings his daughter, who appears in rags and smudged face, to help close the sale and secure a breakfast for them both. Despite their efforts the beggars walk away: "A man can sell anything in the world except poems." He sends his daughter off to market to steal oranges.
The Poet sits on the steps of the Mosque and is approached by a beggar who tells him to move, since he's sitting in the best begging spot in Baghdad which is reserved for the return of old Hajj. Omar returns also surprised to find someone sitting in Hajj's spot. The poet claims to be Hajj's cousin and thus a rightful place-keeper for Hajj. He gives him a coin. A fig seller arrives and the Poet first begs for a fig and then issues a stream of curses until he relents. The Poet seems to have found a new calling. He sings "Fate." "Fate can play a trick with the twine/ to weave the evil and good in one design." Hassan-Ben, a henchman for the evil Master Brigand Jawan, enters looking for Hajj. The Poet again identifies himself thus, and Hassan-Ben roars with rage, throws a bag over his head and carries the Poet away.
In the desert, Master Brigand Jawan crouches over a red-hot charcoal brazier. We are in the hastily assembled desert encampment of Jawan, a fierce, elderly assassin and caravan robber. Hassan-Ben enters carrying the Poet. Jawan wants 'Hajj' to remove the curse that caused Jawan's son to be stolen many years ago. The Poet offers to remove the curse but reminds him that it must be done voluntarily and only adequate payment will do the trick. He pays and the Poet sings of his newfound wealth in a reprise of "Fate."
Around a group of caravans just outside the city, tradesmen of every description - including a merchant with four pretty, largely naked, dancing slave girls -- occupy the camp. They all sing "Bazaar of Caravans." Their bacchanalia ends with the arrival of the Wazir of Police. Porcine and petulant, he is menacing but oafish. Always the butt of jibes from any crowd, his threat to have his men break some teeth is interrupted by his wife's grand entrance. She arrives in a silk-draped litter carried by half-naked slave men. She is clothed lightly in silk and scented oil; this is the lascivious and libidinous Lalume. She eyes the new slave hungrily but is interrupted by the Wazir who, deep in debt, demands to know if she's secured a loan. She hasn't, but she has been promised ten camels loaded with riches if they can marry three Ababunian princesses to the Commander of the Faithful, our hero the noble Caliph himself. The princesses appear, young and fierce, brandishing swords in an exotic dance. They fall prostrate at the Wazir's feet. Unfortunately their language is all but unintelligible; it is clear, however, that they are homesick and unhappy Baghdad. Lalume and the Wazir desperately try to convince the young princesses of Baghdad's charms singing "Not Since Nineveh," to entice them to stay.
As they all exit, the merchants resume crying their wares. Marsinah, the Poet's daughter runs by with her stolen oranges, pursued by the orange merchant. The Poet enters and knocks the merchant down, who runs off in search of police. The Poet asks Marsinah what she would desire if she could have anything in the world. "Breakfast!" she answers unequivocally. Her father suggests that she should bigger, then gives her his gold. She's overwhelmed as all the merchants gather round to gawk at her riches. She dreams of a life of luxury as the merchants dress her; they sing "Baubles, Bangles and Beads."
The Caliph admires Marsinah from afar. Omar tells the Caliph to remember the ancient rule about falling in love "If you fall in love in Baghdad-get thee to Damascus. If you fall in love in Damascus -get thee to Baghdad." Marsinah reappears dressed provocatively; the transformation is stunning. The song rises to a climax, Marsinah and others exit, followed by the Caliph, in a trance.
It is a beautiful garden outside the widow Yussef's house, the home Marsinah has long coveted. The garden features a flowering mulberry tree and a small stone bench with a well beside it. Marsinah asks the widow if the house is for sale. Of course it is - it's a musical! The widow exits. Marsinah rhapsodizes about how her family could grow here in this garden. The Caliph arrives and they sing "Stranger in Paradise." They embrace.
The Poet appears on a side street lolling upon a richly cushioned Oriental rickshaw pulled by four beautiful slave girls. He wears a golden turban and a tunic of cloth of gold; he puffs on a hookah. The Wazir's police intercept him and ask his identity. He pauses and then offers a bribe if they'll go away. Their leader seizes his purse and sees that it has the mark of the house of Achmed, who was robbed by Jawan the Brigand. They arrest him and he lamely cries that it's all a mistake, that he's a poet. They demand a poem, he offers one of his lesser efforts and they take him off to the Wazir.
In the throne room of the Wazir of Police; we see the Wazir pacing in front of his throne, the Three Princesses of Ababu are having their hair done. The rivals for the Caliph's hand are presented to the Wazir, each more deserving than the last. Lalume enters to find a despairing Wazir. He opens his Court of Justice to cheer himself up. The Poet is brought before him, who proceeds to throw himself on the Wazir's mercy and to fawn over Lalume. The Poet proclaims his innocence, relating how he earned the gold pieces by removing a curse from Jawan's household. The unimpressed Wazir sentences him to having his right hand cut off. The Poet complains that a poet needs his hand to tell his tales in the song "Gesticulate," throughout which he continues to flirt with Lalume. The Wazir is still unimpressed and as the guards take him off to his fate, the Poet curses the Wazir with all his might.
Suddenly, Jawan is brought before the Wazir and confirms that he had paid the Poet for removing the curse. He continues, complaining that he still hadn't found his son, when he notices the amulet round the Wazir's neck. He produces a matching amulet. Jawan has found his son! "Of course," says the Poet. But wait, the Wazir recalls that the Poet had cursed him and, yet, it seems to have had no effect.
The Caliph bursts in announcing that he's chosen a wife, a wife other than the Ababuh princesses. This is unhappy news indeed for the Wazir and his wife. The Caliph leaves and the Wazir finally impressed with the Poet's powers and convinced that he can use them to stop the Caliph's wedding, grants the Poet the title of Emir. The Wazir is called to confer with a committee of his creditors. The Poet continues to flirt with Lalume and they kiss with considerable enthusiasm. A commotion ensues outside. The Caliph intends to be married right away and is going to claim his bride. The Wazir returns with his entourage and threatens to skewer the Poet unless he does his magic right away. The Poet spins an elaborate verse and sings a reprise of "Fate." His masterful verse has entranced all those present. And as Lalume 'helps' the Wazir to participate in the song by bowing his head, the Poet sneaks out of a side window.
Outside the Widow Yussef's house at moonrise, the Caliph and Omar are preparing for his marriage. The Caliph sings "Night of My Nights." Guests arrive with the wedding finery. The Caliph dons a plain "incognito" cloak and leaves. Marsinah enters and sings a reprise of "Stranger in Paradise." Her father the Poet arrives, gives her 90 gold pieces and tells her she must escape to Damascus immediately, as her life is at risk. She tries to tell him that she's to be wed but, as he is her father, she agrees, hugs him and they both leave in tears. The Caliph and his entourage appear. Caliph tells them to hide themselves until he signals them with the loud snap from the closing of a large silver box filled with jewels for his bride. He sings a reprise of "Baubles, Bangles and Beads." The widow Yussef enters and mistakes the Caliph for a merchant, then, realizing her mistake begs for forgiveness. He grants it and asks if she has seen Marsinah. She tells him that Marsinah had just been here in the embrace of another man. Heartbroken, the Caliph has everyone return to the Palace, feigning happiness, so no one will know that there is no bride.
The chief of police is waiting impatiently in an anteroom of the Wazir's harem. The Wazir and Lalume rush in. The policeman confirms that spies from all over the city also report that there is not bride. He gestures to three large pots in the background from which rise three black-hooded spies. The Wazir has already heard reports that the Caliph was married, as evidenced by the jovial return of his entourage to the Palace. "A subterfuge," reveals the policeman as he relates that the 'commoner' bride never appeared.
The Wazir is overjoyed, sends for the Poet to receive his reward and sings how his subtlety has gotten him where he is today in "Was I Wazir." The Poet arrives and the Wazir gives him a crown, a mirror to admire himself and attendants to satisfy every want. Omar enters and the Poet greets him in verse. Omar notes that an Emir who is a poet is rare indeed. The Poet agrees, bragging that someday he will supplant the royal 'old' poet, Omar Khayyam. He continues his insults until he finally realizes to whom he is speaking. "Omar, my friend, there is always something to be learned-even from fools. He sings "The Olive Tree."
On a terrace atop the Wazir's harem, open to the stars, the Poet is wearing the Emir's Crown. Lalume has been instructed by her husband the Wazir to 'delight' the Poet. All is right with the world and they and the harem girls sing "Rahadlakum" [Turkish Delight]. The girls leave and the Poet and Lalume discuss where to vent their lust, just as the Wazir is heard coming down the hall. The Poet dives behind the divan. The Wazir cannot find the Poet, when suddenly he pops up, as if by magic, from where he is hiding. "Where did you come from? That would be hard to explain-to a layman." The Wazir leaves, reminding Lalume to keep the Poet happy, and Marsinah enters. The Poet introduces his daughter and Lalume leaves to make arrangements for her quarters. Marsinah explains that she's in love but that now she cannot have him. The Poet offers that all he has as Emir is hers, but she is heartbroken. Just beyond their hearing the Caliph enters and, giving a poetic if vague description orders his guards to find his missing love in "And This is My Beloved." As they sing, they remain just unaware of the other.
In the anteroom of the Wazir's harem, the Caliph is rhapsodizing, again, to the Wazir about his lost love. The Wazir tries to console him by offering to peek through a secret mirror into his harem. Though disgusted by this peeping, he looks just as Marsinah is looking for her quarters. The Caliph mistakenly believes that she is just a harem girl and, therefor, unworthy to be his wife. He instructs the Wazir to bring all candidates for his marriage to the Caliph's Diwan tonight and leaves. The Wazir believes that the Poet must have arranged it to clear the way for the Caliph's marriage to the Ababu princesses. He instructs the chief policeman to note his marriage to Marsinah a month ago. When she hears of his plans, Marsinah threatens to kill herself rather than submit.
The Caliph's Great Audience Hall-a royal, very spacious chamber-dominated by a grand throne, a large bathing pool and fountain in the center of the room, all the nobles of Baghdad have gathered, including the Wazir and Lalume. Omar makes a grand entrance and introduces the Caliph, who takes his place on the throne. The marital candidates are paraded before the Caliph: the beauteous Princesses of Zanzibar and Turkestan perform exotic belly dances. Finally, the three Princesses of Ababu appear, promising that each has committed to marry that third of him that each can serve best. Their dance demonstrates what they mean.
As Omar reads a selection from his Rubaiyat, Wazir tells the Poet about the circumstances surrounding his 'marriage' to Marsinah. He's stunned. The Wazir misunderstands his reaction and tells him not to worry as he plans to poison her tonight. In a fury, the Poet reaches for his knife, then, noticing the pool thinks of a better plan and returns it to its scabbard. Getting everyone's attention, the Poet holds an empty plaque aloft walks to the pool and sits on the lip. "I will throw this empty plaque into the pool . . . When fetched from the water, this magic plaque will be inscribed with the name of the bride our Caliph will choose! (Unseen by all but the audience, he writes 'Ababu' on an identical plaque and instructs the Wazir to hide it in his boot.) The Poet has the lights dimmed, throws the empty plaque in, and then grabs the Wazir's foot, holding his head under water. In verse the Poet describes the Wazir's crimes and asks the Caliph what sentence such crimes would garner. "Death." "I thank you for your verdict! It has been carried out." The Wazir has drowned. The Poet throws the foot into the pool and runs out in darkness. The light returns, Marsinah is brought in followed by the Poet. The lovers are reunited but the Caliph could not possibly have a criminal as...a...father-in-law! They all join in the "Finale," singing "Lovers come, Lovers go/ and all that there is to know/ Lovers know ...only lovers know!"
Orchestration:
Flute (doubling Piccolo) Oboe (doubling English Horn) Clarinet I & II Bass Clarinet Bassoon
2 Horns 3 Trumpets 2 Trombone Tuba
Harp Percussion
4 Violins Viola Cello Bass
Casting:
6 men, 4 women, with a large chorus. There is a large amount of dancing required for both principals and chorus.
I finally saw Watchmen today - only 3 or so weeks after it came out. I really liked it; there were some changes and deletions from the graphic novel - some I liked, some not so much. The ending changes in means, but the end is the same (hence, the end is met by different means). It bothered me that instead of aliens, the world is united against one of the protagonists (who is deeply flawed, so he may or may not care). All in all, I really liked the sub-plot of the Silk Spectre (II) falling for the Nite Owl (II); I thought that they were the most complex (and believable) characters of the entire movie. Likewise, I felt that Rorschach was music more... human. In the graphic novel, he's almost a stereotype - a Haemon-like character in his blind devotion to what he believes is moral and right. The movie softens him somewhat, and makes his ultimate scene a little more compassionate.
Sometimes people need to learn that you cannot be everything to them at once.
It does not make the relationship any less powerful, but it does shine a rather bright spotlight on the boundaries.
Same goes with pleasing everyone - and that's where it seems to hurt the most. When you can't be everything and you're held responsible for it, what kind of friend does that make them?
I have always had this fascination with thunderstorms. When I was a young kid in Tucson, I always remember the monsoon season we'd get - it would be sunny at 2pm, furious storm at 3pm, and sunny again at 4pm. The sudden appearance of the storm would be a treat in itself; the clouds would build straight up thousands of feet in the air (at the time I had no concept of dry lines or anything weather related like that) and produce massive storms. There were at least three times that I can remember of the street being struck by lightning. The downpours were bad enough that the city had build a series of aqueducts in the alleyways to handle all the runoff.
Then we moved to upstate NY, where there was a distinct lack of weather patterns conducive to lightning; they occurred, but not remotely the same way that they were in AZ. Most of the time the lightning was not visible, all you got was the rumble of thunder. Moving to TX for grad work give me the chance to see real lightning storms again - of course, now with the chance of tornadoes... interesting trade off.
The first three or so years we were down here, the weather in the spring did not disappoint. Then we had a couple of dry springs, and they waned a bit. This spring looks like it may turn out to be a nice one - we've already had a few, and they've been pretty good. In fact, we're having one right now - M says its freaking her out because it rattles her work windows - but I still like it.
In other friend's blogs, I've seen a feature called "Teaser Tuesdays" where books are previewed. So, I'll be a semi follower, but in my own way. Each Tuesday, I'll cover a different musical with a mini-writeup. Suggestions are welcome, as always.
Titanic
Story and Book by Peter Stone Music and Lyrics by Maury Yeston
Winner of 5 Tony Awards: Best Musical, Book, Original Musical Score, Orchestrations and Scenic Design
TITANIC opened on Broadway, March 29, 1997 and played for 804 performances at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre.
Synopsis (from Tams Witmark):
TITANIC begins -Prologue as Thomas Andrews, the architect of the great ship, pores over the blueprints of his design -In Every Age. The curtain then rises to reveal the Ocean Dock in Southampton, England, where people are gathering to wonder at and to board the ship on sailing day: first a stoker - How Did They Build Titanic?, then additional crewmen -There She Is, officers and stevedores -Loading Inventory, the owner, the architect and the captain -The Largest Moving Object, the Third and Second Class passengers -I Must Get On That Ship, and finally the First Class passengers -The 1st Class Roster. Now fully boarded, the ship pulls out as the company sings a prayerful farewell -Godspeed Titanic. One by one, the dreams and aspirations of key characters are presented: Barrett, the stoker who wanted to get away from the coal mines -Barrett's Song; Murdoch, the ship's officer contemplating the responsibility of command -To Be a Captain; Kate McGowan and the Third Class passengers who yearn for a better life in America -Lady's Maid; Chief Steward Etches and the millionaires he serves who exult in the wonders of their world -What a Remarkable Age This Is! Barrett finds his way to the Telegraph Room where he dictates a proposal of marriage to his sweetheart back home -The Proposal in a telegram transmitted by Harold Bride, a young telegraph operator smitten with the possibilities of the new radio technology -The Night Was Alive. The next day, April 14, after Sunday morning church service, the First Class attends the shipboard band's spirited out-of-doors dance-concert -Hymn/Doing the Latest Rag, an exclusive event crashed by Second Class passenger Alice Beane, a hardware store owner's wife who wants more out of life -I Have Danced. That evening, as Fleet the lookout scans the horizon -No Moon and bandsman Hartley regales the First Class Smoking Room with a new song -Autumn, the ship sails inexorably towards her collision, which ends Act One. Act Two opens as the suddenly awakened First and Second Class passengers are assembled in the Grand Salon -Dressed In Your Pyjamas In The Grand Salon for life-belt instruction by Chief Steward Etches, before being sent up to the Boat Deck to board the lifeboats. In the Telegraph Room, Captain Smith, Mr. Andrews and Mr. Ismay, the owner, argue over who is responsible for the disaster -The Blame while Mr. Bride tirelessly sends out the S.O.S. Up on the Boat Deck, the male passengers are separated from their families -To the Lifeboats, and all express hopes of being reunited -We'll Meet Tomorrow as the final boat is lowered. Isidor Straus (the owner of Macy's) and his wife Ida remain behind together, as she refuses to leave his side after 40 years of marriage -Still and Mr. Etches utters a prayer -To Be a Captain (reprise). In the abandoned Smoking Room, Thomas Andrews desperately redesigns his ship to correct its fatal flaws until the futility of his actions leads him to predict, in horrifying detail, the end of TITANIC just as she begins her now-inevitable descent -Mr. Andrews' Vision. In an Epilogue, the survivors picked up by the CARPATHIA numbly retell what had once been Mr. Andrews' dream -In Every Age (reprise). The living are joined by their lost loved-ones in a tableau recapturing the optimistic spirit of the Ocean Dock on sailing day -Finale.
Orchestration:
Violins I & II
Viola
Cello
Bass
Reed I: Piccolo, Flute, Alto Flute (or Clarinet) and Clarinet
Reed II: Oboe and English Horn (or Clarinet)
Reed III: Clarinet
Reed IV: Flute and Clarinet
Reed V: Bassoon and E-flat Contrabass Clarinet (or Bassoon)
Horn I & II
Trumpets I & II (both double B-flat Piccolo Trumpet -8 measures only)
I've moved over here because I'm a bit more fond of the Blogger layout and how customizable it is. Plus, I was primarily staying over at Live Journal because of friends - and they're not updating anymore so there was little reason to stay. To the three fantastic ladies that were following me over there - I hope you glance at this once and a while. If not - that's OK too, I know they're busy.
My goal here is to be a bit more open, a bit more free. As many of you know, I've been out of work for a little over 8 months now, and its starting to hit me like a ton of bricks. A few new openings have been announced over the last 24-72 hours, but the outlook for next year is still grim. And staying professionally active here is proving much more draining as well; the youth orchestra I was working for has pretty much abandoned me without a word, and the theatre scene is becoming more filled with politics - a game that I find myself having to delve into more and more to keep any chance of "working" alive. It just feels like I'm selling myself in it as well, and I don't like what kind of person that makes me.
