Monday, May 14, 2018

Ain't Science Grand!

The much beloved Ella Fitzgerald (1917-1996) was famously known as "The Queen of Jazz" and "The First Lady of Song." Whether singing solo, performing "Three Little Maids From School" with Dinah Shore and Joan Sutherland, or recording commercials for Memorex, she became famous for her vocal range and signature scatting.




As demonstrated in the above video, the commercials Fitzgerald made for Memorex teased viewers by asking whether they could distinguish a taped performance from live singing. Although they were made years after the original run of The Twilight Zone on CBS (1959-1964), those commercials were perfectly in tune with a growing fascination with science and science fiction as the jet age made transatlantic travel more accessible to millions of tourists and astronauts began to circle the earth.

From the fascinating work of John James Audobon (1785-1851), Charles Darwin (1809-1882), Jules Verne (1828-1905), and Jacques Cousteau (1910-1997) to the miracles of today's research techniques (which employ much more complex technology and can be shared over the Internet with people around the world), life on earth never fails to fascinate humans. Whether we watch "the king of the jungle" being reduced to a helpless heap while experiencing a seizure, or any number of fish, plants, and insects display bizarre mating habits, nature teaches us a lot about ourselves and the world in which we live.






What humans learn from examining the world in which they live often provides a deeper understanding of their own behavior. Whether one is prone to passivity, aggression, or passive-aggressive attempts at manipulating others, such patterns of behavior provide a wealth of inspiration for writers. Just consider these classic songs from the early 20th century:






Two productions new to Bay area audiences help to remind theatregoers that, despite what religious fundamentalists might believe, humans are very much a part of the animal kingdom.

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The San Francisco Playhouse is currently offering the world premiere production of An Entomologist's Love Story, a four-character play which delivers lots of information about the insect world while reassuring freaks, geeks, and nerds that they can find love in a world where willful ignorance and blazing stupidity run rampant.

Playwright Melissa Ross got a job as an intern in the Entomology Department of the American Museum of Natural History after receiving a grant from the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation to write a play that focused on the lives of scientists. A graduate of the Juilliard School and a member of LAByrinth Theater Company, her new play (originally commissioned by the Manhattan Theatre Club) first took the stage for a series of readings during the 2014 New Works Festival presented by TheatreWorks Silicon Valley which also served as a springboard for Rajiv Joseph's new play entitled Describe the Night (which received its world premiere production from the Alley Theatre in Houston in September of 2017, just four weeks after Hurricane Harvey made landfall) and Kimber Lee's poignant tokyo fish story (which received its world premiere from South Coast Repertory in March of 2015).

Directed by Giovanna Sardelli, Ross's romantic comedy focuses on the toxic relationship between two entomologists working in the museum's research department. It begins as Betty (Lori Prince) is conducting a lecture on some of the more bizarre mating habits (parasitism, cannibalism, exploding genitalia) that have been observed in various species of insects.








Betty has spent the past few years working alongside her former boyfriend, Jeff (Lucas Verbrugghe), whose combination of male privilege with a laid-back approach to finding love is a constant source of irritation to her. As an intelligent female with multiple advanced degrees, Betty is hypersensitive about the fact that, in order to attract an amorous male, she is usually forced to "dumb herself down" in order to get his attention. By contrast, men like Jeff can simply walk into a bar or coffee shop and, without making any effort, attract the attention of available females.

One of Betty's defense mechanisms is to combine the obnoxious behavior of a frat boy or "bro" with her ability to scare off anyone who would be intimidated by her intelligence. Although her relentless sarcasm has made Betty aware that she can be a real bitch, that doesn't stop her from going on the attack as a way to protect herself from getting hurt.

Lucas Verbrugghe (Jeff) in a scene from
An Entomologist's Love Story (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

When a woman calls the museum asking for help with a bedbug problem, Betty nearly bites the woman's head off over the phone, but transfers the call to Jeff just to show him what it's like to scare people. To her surprise, Jeff is pleasant and polite to the woman, agreeing to let her send him a picture of the bites on her skin without ever imagining that this could a sexual come-on. As Betty watches a friendship develop between Jeff and Lindsay (Jessica Lynn Carroll), her combination of jealousy, hostility, and territoriality pushes Jeff's patience to the limits. Watching Lindsay in action (whose behavior mirrors the old adage that a person can catch more flies with honey) only spikes Betty's rage.

Jessica Lynn Carroll (Lindsay) and Lucas Verbrugghe (Jeff) in a scene
from An Entomologist's Love Story (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

One afternoon, Betty leaves the office to take a break in Central Park. While resting on a bench, she is joined by a man who recognizes her from a lecture she gave at Fordham University. Not only did he enjoy her witty delivery, he has a hobby (swing dancing) that doesn't involve insects. To her surprise, he shows genuine interest in getting to know Betty better. Having failed to get her phone number, he creates and delivers a giant flower basket to her office. If Andy (Will Springhorn, Jr.) seems socially awkward, it's because he has just re-entered the dating market after separating from his wife.

Will Springhorn, Jr. (Andy) and Lori Prince (Betty) in a scene from
An Entomologist's Love Story (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

In a post on the company's blog, San Francisco Playhouse's artistic director, Bill English, describes what caught his interest when he first read Ross's play.
"What galvanized my attention besides the hilarious, muscular language and the palpable, gritty truth captured by Melissa’s first-hand experience in the museum, was the parallel Melissa has drawn between the scientists who study the mating rituals of insects and our window onto the mating rituals of the scientists themselves (her understanding of these specialists’ work is so detailed and reverent that one can almost smell the formaldehyde drifting through the theatre). Informed by the sexual politics of today, we find ourselves giddy with glee or wincing at the murderous power of the female praying mantis, or lifted up by the glorious beauty of fireflies as they mate. How do these insects inform the loss and rage of a brilliant female scientist as she fears she will have to dumb herself down to find a male partner?"
Lucas Verbrugghe (Jeff) and Lori Prince (Betty) in a scene from
An Entomologist's Love Story (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)
"We are familiar with the symbiosis of many insects and other animals who are often literally stuck together in a destructive mating dance, but we humans also get stuck in symbiotic relationships that hamper our need for the freedom to find more mutually satisfying lives. We get stuck in relationships with our parents, with friends, with former lovers, and in order to really live, we have to break free. We have to let go of the destructive security these relationships offer and strike out bravely into the unknown. What a joy to watch as our entomologists struggle to break out of their own cocoons and fly!"
Lucas Verbrugghe (Jeff) and Lori Prince (Betty) in a scene from
An Entomologist's Love Story (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

Among the many assets which strengthen An Entomologist's Love Story are:
Under Giovanna Sardelli's astute direction, Betty keeps ratcheting up her bitchiness until her bitterness and anger nearly destroy her relationship with Jeff. Realizing the damage she has done, she tries to reconnect with Andy who, as she learns, has just as many flaws as she does. Can Betty learn that acting like a vicious queen bee will lead to a life surrounded by ineffectual drones? Or can she make herself vulnerable enough to find happiness outside of the insect world?

Lori Prince (Betty) in a scene from
An Entomologist's Love Story (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

Without a doubt, Betty's abrasiveness reduces three highly capable actors to functioning as drones in servitude to her queen bee. Performances of An Entomologist's Love Story continue through June 23 at the San Francisco Playhouse (click here for tickets).

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The Marin Theatre Company is currently presenting the Bay area premiere of Jordan Harrison’s intriguing science fiction play entitled Marjorie Prime (a 2015 finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama whose film adaptation premiered at the 2017 Sundance Film Festival). Set in 2062, the title refers to 85-year-old Marjorie (born in 1977), who has started to exhibit early signs of memory loss. After consulting with a professional organization called “Senior Serenity,” Marjorie’s daughter, Tess (Julia Eccles) and son-in-law, Jon (Anthony Fusco), have moved Marjorie into their home and opted to introduce a computer-driven holographic program called Prime into their environment.

Julia Eccles (Tess) and Anthony Fusco (Jon) in a
scene from Marjorie Prime (Photo by: Kevin Berne)

Designed with the intent of capturing information about a person from the living [primary] source as well as from secondary sources (friends and relatives who have known the primary source), the program’s goal is to help people struggling with memory loss and dementia to focus on meaningful previous moments in their lives. Although the Prime can store memories by converting them into digital data, it cannot [yet] create emotions of its own. In a move that has alarmed Tess, Marjorie  (Joy Carlin) has requested that her Prime resemble her deceased husband, Walter (Thomas Gorrebeeck) as he appeared at a much younger stage of his life.

Joy Carlin (Marjorie) and Thomas Gorrebeeck (Walter)
in a scene from Marjorie Prime (Photo by: Kevin Berne)

A little backstory is in order to help understand what plays out very subtly onstage during Harrison’s family drama. The term “Audio Animatronics” was first introduced to the world by Walt Disney in 1961. In 1963, The Enchanted Tiki Room attraction debuted in Disneyland, followed by several Disney-engineered exhibits at the 1964 New York World’s Fair (the State of Illinois Pavilion’sGreat Moments with Mr. Lincoln” and General Electric’sCarousel of Progress”). Although these entertained and awed visitors half a century ago, an exhibit of Disney audio animatrons such as the famous Hall of Presidents now seems like the mechanical equivalent of prehistoric cave paintings when contrasted to the companion robots that are currently being put to use in hospitals and other healthcare environments in first-world countries.

In 1971, Dennis Gabor was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics for his invention and development of holographic technology. Today, the potent combination of lasers with a technique originally designed to improve electron microscopy has broken new ground in data storage and entertainment. After more than 50 years of living in a world driven by algorithms, the artificial intelligence technology in Marjorie Prime has advanced to a point where holographic creations can be mass marketed for home use. As Laura A. Brueckner (Marin Theatre Company’s Literary Manager and Resident Dramaturg) notes:
“Most modern narratives about artificial intelligence share a major plot point: the moment when the creation defies its creator. This pivot appears in so many AI stories that it may reveal the central anxiety driving us to creative narratives about artificial intelligence: the limitations of human intelligence. Jordan Harrison’s Marjorie Prime is much subtler in its exploration of this theme. There is no concern that the Primes will physically harm the human characters. There is no ‘aha’ moment where the Primes gain absolute sentience and seize control. At the same time, the play declines to portray humans as being fully in control and resists offering a conclusion that reads as a human victory.”
Joy Carlin (Marjorie) in a scene from Marjorie Prime
(Photo by: Kevin Berne)
“In Harrison’s play, the Prime’s version of memory may be problematic, but human memory has its own set of flaws. Marjorie can access the full range of human emotion, but sometimes struggles to remember (or misremembers) past events that have profoundly impacted her. Even Tess and Jon, who are not yet experiencing age-related memory loss, have complicated relationships to one another’s memories as well as to Marjorie’s. Marjorie Prime shows us that, although artificial intelligence lacks basic human understanding, humans are subject to emotional injuries and needs that can reconfigure their memories in far more unpredictable ways. The result is the play’s evocative invitation to reconsider our memories (our emotional reasons for retaining particular memories, the ways we may alter our memories to suit ourselves) and how this activity has shaped who we are today).”
An unnamed character in this production is Kimie Nishikawa's stunning unit set, whose extensive use of plywood offers a timeless foundation against which a succession of lives can play out. Beautifully lit by Michael Palumbo, its natural beauty offers a stark contrast to the holograms which hover around Marjorie's family and end up seated in a corner of the stage like used mannequins after a department store's display has been dismantled.

Thomas Gorrebeeck and Joy Carlin as two Primes who are no longer
needed in a scene from Marjorie Prime (Photo by: Kevin Berne)

With costumes by Jessie Amoroso and sound design by Brendan Aanes, Ken Rus Schmoll has directed Harrison's drama with the kind of subtlety that makes it possible for different members of the audience to grasp what's happening at different times as the play unfolds. These moments often occur during tiny lapses of time as the hologram pauses while processing data about the person it is supposed to imitate. After all members of the family have died, three of the Primes stand together onstage as they participate in a stilted conversation that sometimes freezes like a computer buffering data. Marjorie breaks the play's last silence by stating "How nice that we could love somebody."

Joy Carlin (Marjorie) and Julia Eccles (Tess) in a
scene from Marjorie Prime (Photo by: Kevin Berne)

MTC's ensemble consists of four well-known Bay area actors who are experts at underplaying a scene until the time is ripe for a more intense display of emotion. While Julia Eccles and Anthony Fusco are given meatier material to work with, one cannot help but admire the restraint shown by Joy Carlin and Thomas Gorrebeeck as Marjorie and Walter.

Marjorie Prime provides audiences with plenty of food for thought. However, the play is set in an era when union wages for home care workers may have become a nonissue and parents are no longer capable of inflicting guilt trips to their children.

Performances of Marjorie Prime continue through May 27 at the Marin Theatre Company (click here for tickets).

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