A New Life

Few artists get things right on their first try. Writers rewrite, artists repaint, sculptors reshape, and composers keep tinkering with sounds and beats until they're satisfied.

Even the greats have doubts and regrets. Now that Arthur Laurents, Leonard Bernstein, and Jerome Robbins are dead, the only surviving member of the creative team behind 1957's West Side Story (Stephen Sondheim) gave his blessing to the team working on the latest revival to drop "I Feel Pretty" from the score and eliminate the "Somewhere" ballet.

Second Life is not just a virtual world for role-playing online gamers. A second life is what people who have served time in prison are sometimes granted. A second life is what some people achieve after a long-term relationship collapses. A second life is what many strive for when they fail in their professional career (or discover that they simply can't live up to their parents' dreams). A second life offers a chance to improve on the past.


Trying to connect the dots between seemingly random thoughts is one of my favorite pastimes when riding buses, trains, or awakening from a dream cycle. Sometimes words and songs flit through my mind in ways that point me to an idea I can use; at other times they annoy the hell out of me until I spot their relevance to each other.

Late in 1981, during a trip to New York, I attended a preview performance of Merrily We Roll Along, the legendary musical by Stephen Sondheim and George Furth that became a notorious flop. Premiering just two years after Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, the show racked up 52 previews and 16 performances, marking the end of Sondheim's artistic partnership with director Hal Prince.

Since then, Merrily We Roll Along has achieved cult status as the Sondheim musical everyone and their mother tried to fix. The original Broadway cast recording (first released in 1982) has been followed by recordings of a 1993 cast in Leicester, England, the 1994 York Theatre Company's revival, and the 2012 Encores! revival (which was released as a two-CD set). In October 2016, a documentary entitled Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened directed by a member of the original Broadway cast (Lonny Price) premiered at the New York Film Festival.


Curiously, 33 years after Merrily We Roll Along bombed on Broadway, another musical premiered which had a disappointing run of only 105 performances. With music and lyrics by Sting, The Last Ship had been warmly received during a series of October 2013 concerts at the Public Theatre. A video recording was subsequently broadcast over the PBS network as part of its Great Performances series.


What connects these two musicals?

• Both received their Broadway premieres at the Neil Simon Theatre.
• Both were nominated for (but did not win) the Tony Award for Best Original Score.
• Both have undergone extensive revisions since their original Broadway runs.

Gideon Fletcher (Oliver Savile) and Jackie White (Sting) say
farewell in The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

While Billy Elliot: The Musical is set against the background of Thatcherism and its devastating effect on Great Britain's miners, The Last Ship focuses on how England's great history of shipbuilding also fell victim to the leadership of the nation's Iron Lady. There is, of course, another connection that struck me. As any fan of maritime history knows, the Harland & Wolff shipyard in Belfast is where the White Star Line's three sister ships (RMS Olympic, RMS Titanic, and RMS Britannic) were built.


Although I saw the first and numerous subsequent versions of Merrily We Roll Along, when The Last Ship docked at the Golden Gate Theatre here in San Francisco I had a chance to experience the revised version of Sting's musical. How so? In September of 2017, The Last Ship was performed in Finnish in the shipbuilding city of Turku, Finland. The following year, the musical toured to cities in the United Kingdom and Ireland before a Toronto run in early 2019. The current tour brings The Last Ship to audiences in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Washington, D.C., Minneapolis, and Detroit.

Jackie White (Sting) is the shipbuilders' foreman in
The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

Directed by Lorne Campbell, the show's original book (by John Logan and Brian Yorkey) has been replaced by a new version written by its director. With costumes by Molly Einchcomb, and lighting by Matt Daw, this touring version is designed by 59 Productions -- which has done a spectacular job of integrating video, projections, and stage action into a multimedia experience that takes on a life and vitality all its own.

Sting appears as Jackie White with the company of
The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

The story takes place in 1986, when the demise of the shipbuilding industry in Wallsend, Tyne and Wear resulted in the the closure of the town's Swan Hunter shipyard. The production's impressive sound design by Sebastian Frost takes Sting's music (which sounds like a folk opera in the above video) and pumps it up to a level that makes the angry shipbuilders and eight instrumentalists sound as if they are making music on steroids.

The all-British case is a tightly-knit ensemble that includes Annie Grace as Baroness Tynedale (a Margaret Thatcher look-alike), Joseph Peacock as Young Gideon, Jade Sophia Vertannes as Young Meg, Sean Kearns doing triple duty as the gruff businessman Freddy Newlands, Old Joe Fletcher, and a Ferryman, and Matt Corner who delivers a tense, combative performance as the town drunk, Davey Harrison.

Peggy White (Jackie Morrison) and her husband Jackie (Sting)
in a scene from The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

Other supporting roles are taken on by Marc Akinfolarin as the shipyard's resident intellectual, Joe Caffrey as Billy Thompson (one of its politically committed laborers), Hannah Richardson as Cathleen Fleming, Orla Gormley as Mrs. Dees, Oliver Kearney as Kev Dickinson, and David Muscat as Thomas Ashburner.

Meg Dawson (Frances McNamee) and Gideon Fletcher (Oliver Savile)
in a scene from The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

The core of the show revolves around a troubled love story between Gideon Fletcher (Oliver Savile), who ran away to sea for 17 years in order to avoid working in the shipyard, and his teenage girlfriend, Meg Dawson (Frances McNamee), who he left behind without knowing she was pregnant with their daughter, Ellen (Sophie Reid). Composer-lyricist Sting appears as Jackie White, the shipyard's beloved foreman who receives a diagnosis of terminal cancer. Following Jackie's death, his wife (Jackie Morrison) convinces the local women that it's up to them to save their men, their community, and the shipyard which has defined all of their lives.

Peggy White (Jackie Morrison) galvanizes the shipbuilders
in a scene from The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

The Last Ship turned out to be a much more powerful dramatic experience than I had anticipated. Lorne Campbell's direction glows with genuine theatrical power while Sting's score has a distinct (and nearly operatic) voice. During some of its more wistful moments ("When The Pugilist Learned to Dance," "So To Speak," "What Say You, Meg?" and "When We Danced"), I found myself haunted by memories of Lionel Bart's score for his 1964 musical about dockworkers and prostitutes in Liverpool (Maggie May)


There is one big problem with the current production: the cast's Geordie accents coupled with the beefed-up sound design often make the text difficult to understand. However, considering how much choral music is in Sting's score (and the sheer power of the show's storytelling techniques) I'd hazard a guess that The Last Ship has one more sea to conquer. Now that Supertitles are commonplace in many theatres, I think Sting's opus could find a warm welcome in regional opera houses throughout Europe and North America.

Ellen Dawson (Sophie Reid) has dreams of becoming a
musician in The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

For those anticipating a major blowout performance by Sting, it should be noted that Jackie White is a secondary character in the story. The strongest musical demands fall on Oliver Savile (whose sweet tenor voice adds great depth to the adult Gideon Fletcher) and Frances McNamee, whose pent-up fury at Gideon is unleashed in songs like "If You Ever See Me Talking To A Sailor" and "August Winds."

Meg Dawson (Frances McNamee) and the women's
chorus of The Last Ship (Photo by: Matthew Murphy)

Bottom line? In its revised form, The Last Ship is a major piece of art which, to my mind, is much more impressive and musically viable than Hamilton. Performances of The Last Ship continue through March 22 at the Golden Gate Theatre (click here for tickets). Here's the trailer:

Art Isn't Easy

When was the last time you held a piece of scrimshaw in your hands? Although the term first achieved popularity during the 19th century, according to Wikipedia:

"Scrimshaw is scrollwork, engravings, and carvings done in bone or ivory. Typically it refers to the artwork created by whalers, engraved on the byproducts of whales, such as bones or cartilage. It is most commonly made out of the bones and teeth of sperm whales, the baleen of other whales, and the tusks of walruses. It takes the form of elaborate engravings in the form of pictures and lettering on the surface of the bone or tooth, with the engraving highlighted using a pigment, or, less often, small sculptures made from the same material. The making of scrimshaw probably began on whaling ships in the late 18th century and survived until the ban on commercial whaling. The practice survives as a hobby and as a trade for commercial artisans."

A nautical scene from the Horta Scrimshaw Museum

The decline in traditional forms of scrimshaw can be traced to the impact of the Marine Mammal Protection Act of 1972 and the Endangered Species Act of 1973.

Meanwhile, Ivo van Hove's revisionist staging of 1957's West Side Story has drawn controversial reactions from critics and audiences alike. Carina del Valle Schorske's recent OpEd in The New York Times entitled "Let ‘West Side Story’ and Its Stereotypes Die" points to the growing tensions between those demanding authenticity and accountability in the arts in place of willful ignorance, and/or cultural appropriation.

Unlike decades-old disputes over whether or not Jews should be forced to listen to the operas of Richard Wagner (whose music was greatly admired by Adolf Hitler), there are times when the impassioned self-righteousness of social justice warriors collides head-on with the blunt cruelties of reality (a recent comment about white supremacist Stephen Miller's marriage was "Ewww...she touched it!"). Thankfully, word is out that "Rebekah Mercer, Funder of Climate Change Denial, Is No Longer On The American Museum of Natural History's Board" thanks to the ongoing protests by a group named Revolting Lesbians.

As playwright Nicole Parizeau explains:

“Two news items collided on my radar in April 2019. A master painter whose work I loved was revealed, in an exhibit in Berlin, to have been not only an active member of the Nazi Party, but a venomous anti-Semite who systematically encoded racism into his artwork. Emil Nolde’s wild use of color had branded him a ‘degenerate’ artist in Hitler’s Germany, but no matter: he remained fiercely loyal, until the day he died, to the fanatic regime that condemned his work (that is, to the grotesquery of the Holocaust). Also in the news that spring: the 1937 Pernkopf Topographic Anatomy of Man, the most exquisitely detailed study of human anatomy ever published. An extraordinary book of meticulous, even beautiful anatomical depictions – and an excruciating moral test. The illustrations derive from the cadavers of prisoners of the Third Reich: men, women, and children executed at Vienna’s District Court and in the gas chambers of the Gestapo.”

An illustration by Eduard Pernkopf depicting the lungs and
/their blood vessels (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia)

“These items combusted in my brain and demanded a soul search. Is Emil Nolde now ‘dead to me’? Do I yank Sea With Violet Clouds from the wall? Do I, in today’s parlance, cancel him? And the corrupt Pernkopf Atlas -- should it be extirpated out of moral disgust? Its peerless accuracy abandoned at the cost of imperishable surgical value? It’s a miserably short footpath from these two accounts to the crop of discoveries about ‘bad actors’ in our time (and to other, ever unfurling exposés of historical icons in the arts, science, literature, et al). What do we do with these revelations? Should each person, every institution, embody a moral threshold? Does the ethical course, in fact, ‘depend on what we’re willing to live without’ for the sake of principle? Where will you stand, in the end?”

Over in Berkeley, CentralWorks is staging Parizeau's drama entitled The Human Ounce, which pits two African American curators against each other in the kind of professional tug-of-war that invokes memories of All About Eve. Directed by Gary Graves, Parizeau's drama focuses on an old painting about to be placed on exhibit in an art museum.

Though the 19th century painting (entitled The Gelding) presents a pleasant view of trees and vegetation, the history of its creator presents a moral problem: What stance should a museum take when an old master is revealed (by current standards) to be not so much an old goat as a sexual monster?

Kimberly Ridgeway (Biz) and Champagne Hughes (Jory) in
a scene from The Human Ounce (Photo by: Jim Norrena)

Biz (Kimberly Ridgeway) is the museum's chief curator, a woman who has worked her way up the ladder to become one of the few African American females to hold such a position. Though well aware of the museum's institutional needs and the necessity of keeping its donors happy, she's justifiably offended when, on the night before the painting is scheduled to go on display, her assistant demands that it not be foisted on an unknowing public after recent research revealed the artist to have been an unrepentant pedophile with a ravenous sexual appetite.

Kimberly Ridgeway (Biz) and Champagne Hughes (Jory) in
a scene from The Human Ounce (Photo by: Jim Norrena)

Jory (Champagne Hughes) is eager to enact social justice against the artist who painted The Gelding more than 100 years ago. And, if Biz is unwilling to acquiesce, Jory has a trump card up her sleeve that could force her boss to yield to her assistant's demand.

Champagne Hughes (Jory), Kimberly Ridgeway (Biz), and
Don Wood (Dodge) in a scene from The Human Ounce
(Photo by: Jim Norrena)

Dodge (Don Wood) is the museum's good-natured maintenance man who reacts to art on a gut level. More concerned with whether or not he likes a painting, he is nevertheless easily swayed by revelations that an artist might have been a truly despicable character.

Kimberly Ridgeway (Biz) and Don Wood (Dodge) in a
scene from The Human Ounce (Photo by: Jim Norrena)

With costume design by Tammy Berlin, sound design by Gregory Scharpen, and
lighting design by Gary Graves, Parizeau's drama balances Jory's exhaustive list of morally questionable artists against Biz's institutional resistance. Once it becomes clear that each party has done extensive opposition research on the other (Biz's terse responses prove that she can maintain control with something as simple and steely as a knowing stare) Jory's willingness to go for the jugular eventually wins out.

While Jory seems deaf to any suggestion that she "hate the sin, but love the sinner," there is no ignoring the fact that she lacks any track record of her own creativity. Instead of rising on the shoulders of her predecessors, she seems much too eager to build her career on the weaknesses of those she can stab in the back (especially artists who are long dead and gone and thus have no way of speaking for themselves). Coming from a generation that freely cautions people not to judge, her eagerness to conquer and cancel selected artists leaves her blind to the possibility that one day someone may judge her as harshly as she has judged others. Is it possible that, in a perverse way, her eagerness to cancel out those whose past offends her has rendered Jory deaf, dumb, and blind?

Champagne Hughes co-stars as Jory in The Human Ounce
(Photo by: Jim Norrena)

“For every vilified act, it's also important to search for mitigating or refuting sources (if they exist). In writing The Human Ounce, I researched the stories of current and historical bad actors...a litany of ‘villains’ who might best illustrate certain points in the play. And I can tell you this: Actively searching for dishonorable people and institutions is a numbing, enervating experience," confesses the playwright. "It just isn’t normal to hunt for stories of sexual predation, racism, gender phobia, and the like. It rubs on the heart like scouring powder.”

Champagne Hughes and Kimberly Ridgeway deliver strong performances as two women with sharply opposing viewpoints. However, were it not for Don Wood's affable characterization of Dodge (the innocent art consumer caught in the middle), Parizeau's play could easily veer into a tiresome series of "gotcha" accusations.

Performances of The Human Ounce continue through March 15 at the Berkeley City Club (click here for tickets).

* * * * * * * * *

On a much happier note, Word for Word is breathing life into a series of vignettes from the 2018 coming-of-age memoir by Octavio Solis under the title of Retablos. Lovingly directed by Sheila Balter and Jim Cave, the production finds its soul in the following chapters: The Way Over, Consuelo, El Judío, La Migra, La Llorona, Nothing Happens, The Quince, Mexican Apology, El Segundo, Neto, and My Right Foot. Solis describes each chapter as a memory tale verging on fable, that paints a dreamlike picture of life in El Paso during the 1960s and 1970s.


Having recently sat through six hours of Elevator Repair Service's staged reading of GATZ, I'm delighted to report that Retablos is four hours shorter and at least ten times more rewarding an experience. Not only does one care a whole lot more about the characters onstage, the sheer beauty of Solis's writing (combined with the vitality and versatility of Word for Word's cast) makes for an evening of theatrical magic.

Gendell Hernandez and Edie Flores flip burgers in a scene
from Retablos (Photo by: Lorenzo Fernandez-Kopec)

Don't just take my word for it. As Solis readily admits:

"I am known primarily as a playwright, but when I wrote Retablos, I heard the voice of that 'little brown shit' that was me as a boy relay them aloud as a collection of prose vignettes, and that's how I transcribed them. I have resisted any effort to adapt them to the stage because they are not meant for it (I would have written them as plays if they were). But if there is a company on earth that is perfectly suited to these very personal stories, it is Word for Word, because they honor the language of the page while managing to theatricalize the words in rare and unpredictable ways. This wondrous method is what transforms my Retablos into a magic pop-up book depicting people from my very real past living with vitality and dignity in the El Paso of my youth. Sheila Balter and Jim Case have taken the trip there, metaphorically and literally. They visited my hometown to look for the heart of Retablos and their beautiful work on my book is proof that they found it."

Brady Morales-Woolery and Regina Morones recall the story of
Consuelo (Maria Candelaria) in a scene from Retablos
(Photo by: Lorenzo Fernandez-Kopec)

Working on a unit set designed by Nina Ball (with costumes by Callie Floor, lighting by Jeff Rowlings, choreography by Carolina Morones, and original music and sound design by David R. Molina), Word for Word's ensemble includes Regina Morones, Brady Morales-Woolery, Carla Gallardo, and Gabriel Montoya. Exceptional work comes from Maria Candelaria, Edie Flores, and Gendell Hernandez, with Ryan Tasker appearing as a variety of priests, police officers, and local authority figures.

Gendell Hernandez and Edie Flores dance at a Quinceanera in a
scene from Retablos (Photo by: Lorenzo Fernandez-Kopec)

Performances of Retablos continue through March 15 at ZSpace Below (click here for tickets). If you can't make it to the theatre during the show's run, Retablos: Stories From a Life Lived Along the Border is available in several formats on Amazon.com.

Gabriel Montoya (left) sees the ghost of his dead brother
(Gendell Hernandez) at the airport in a scene from Retablos
(Photo by: Lorenzo Fernandez-Kopec)

Big Brother Is Watching You

Once upon a time (and not so very long ago), people expected a reasonable amount of privacy. When mailing lists first began to be purchased and traded as a commodity, junk mail suddenly began to fill everyone's mailboxes. With the onset of the computer age -- and the accompanying digitization of data -- it became increasingly difficult to carve out a safe niche for meditation, introspection, and a lifestyle free from robocalls, spam emails, and targeted online marketing campaigns. In an age filled with complaints about microaggressions, no one should be surprised to encounter a comedy skit like the following.


We now live in an era where data brokers sell our micro-tagged marketing profiles to political campaigns using data culled from our Facebook accounts, smartphones, and virtual assistants like Apple's Siri and Amazon Alexa.

• Several years ago, I listened to a woman become hysterical when asked why she didn't use a Clipper Card. Obviously not understanding how the card's tracking capabilities were designed to help analysts understand MUNI's passenger flow in order to improve bus and train service, she launched into a vehemently paranoid rant about why she didn't want MUNI "following" her.
• Viewers who were horrified at Google's campaign to scan and digitize hard copies of the world's literature continue to blithely ignore the way their smartphones and computers deliver oceans of information about their personal tastes and habits to data banks that can later be mined by artificial intelligence.
• In describing a new exhibit at San Francisco's M. H. de Young Museum entitled "Uncanny Valley: Being Human in the Age of AI," Ina Fried mentions Lynn Hershman Leeson's Shadow Stalker "which illustrates the volume of personal information on the web. Enter your email and the exhibit starts showing a list of places you've been, people you know, and your phone numbers (albeit with some parts redacted). Another piece from Leeson, a video, highlights the dangers of predictive policing."
• Numerous articles have been published in the past year advising readers to install a virtual private network (VPN) on their computers and take proactive measures to limit the amount of personal data that can be stolen right out from under their noses.

The sad truth is that we now live a surveillance society which makes it much easier for corporations to predict our biases, behavior, and how we will react to outside stimuli. Ironically, laws originally designed to protect and preserve our privacy are now easily subverted by brokers who have no legal restrictions on selling our personal data. Whether or not it is developed by Russia, the use of sophisticated technologies (combined with machine learning and artificial intelligence) to create deepfake media content is now predicted to have a dangerous impact on the 2020 Presidential election.

While social networking has helped to build the Black Lives Matter and MeToo movements, their impact can be dwarfed by disinformation campaigns created by foreign governments and Internet bot farms funded by deep pockets.


In a bizarre way, the manner in which passengers on two cruise ships were recently subjected to quarantines offers a warped view of what happens when freedom of assembly is suddenly (and severely) restricted. The United States Supreme Court's 2010 decision in Citizens United may prove to have a more devastating impact on our country than a pandemic caused by the recent outbreak of a coronavirus.

Has resistance become futile? The Washington Post recently published a chilling report by Hannah Dreier entitled "Trust and Consequences" which describes the predicament of a teenaged asylum-seeker from Honduras named Kevin Euceda, who has been held captive by the Trump administration for more than 900 days. Why? When the government initially required the 17-year-old refugee to see a therapist, he was told that his words would be held confidential. Instead, they metastasized from one report and detention facility to another, leaving the traumatized young man who fled from murderous gangs in his native country threatened with deportation back to Honduras.

Two dramas that recently received their world premieres from small theatre companies in San Francisco offer stark insights into how people manage to live in an atmosphere of fear, surveillance, and media manipulation. While each has its comedic moments, the underlying message from both playwrights is deeply disturbing.

* * * * * * * * *

San Francisco has a long history of colorful characters who found ways to delight the natives while confusing and scaring tourists. From Peter Berlin and Jesus Christ Satan to Mr. Peanut and a dancing Christmas tree entertaining crowds on Polk Street after the bars closed, creativity flowed freely and freak flags flew frequently.

Self portrait of Peter Berlin

I still have fond memories of attending a Gay Pride celebration during which a parade float rolled up Market Street with a banner proclaiming "Gays Against Brunch." Several years later, a pickup truck had a gaggle of gay men dressed in black dresses and veils bearing a sign that identified them as "Queer Widows."

Written and directed by John Fisher, the Theatre Rhinoceros production of Radical combines the seething resentment at challenges that currently plague the City By The Bay with the easy access to social media that allows people to become "influencers." Fisher stars as Jack, a quirkily optimistic iconoclast who takes pride in being the kind of do-gooder who picks up trash and gives people free rides in a rented Zipcar, but sees no need to search for a discreet place to relieve himself of urine (which is merely wastewater) for which the city has failed to provide an adequate supply of pissoirs. Jack prefers to buy an indigent person something to eat before he gives them money and believes that travel on MUNI should be free for all.

Using his smartphone to film upbeat messages about his daily activities that can encourage others to take action to help keep the city clean, Jack's YouTube videos start going viral. Soon he is being interviewed by a tiny local news outlet. Instead of sitting down for a standard interview, Jack invites Plant (Jacob Soss) and Diana (Polly Levi) to accompany him around the city on bicycles, while he jogs, and as he records one street video after another.

Polly Levi and John Fisher in a scene from Radical
(Photo by: David Wilson)

Plant soon falls under Jack's spell and believes Jack could easily become a candidate for District Supervisor if he secures some endorsements. Although Jack's antics are not appreciated by another local politician who has supported Plant and Diana's website, Jack is just entertaining enough to start building a public following.

Meanwhile, the acutely passive-aggressive Diana becomes increasingly aggressive in her sexual harassment of Plant, thereby creating a hostile work environment. Though they seem to fall in love, her emotional insecurities turn their relationship quite toxic. As Jack's political presence starts to grow, he begins to flirt with Plant, igniting a yearning that has long lain dormant.

John Fisher and Jacob Soss in a scene from Radical
(Photo by: David Wilson)

Although Jack has steadfastly refused to take any position on homelessness, when Plant suggests that he declare himself to be a Republican, things start barreling out of control (soon Jack is being endorsed by local politicos, up to and including the Mayor). But once he begins to take homelessness seriously, Jack comes up with a stunning idea. Having developed a list of residential properties that remain vacant, he encourages San Francisco's homeless to register to vote and, if they so desire, to squat at any of the addresses he has identified. In no time at all, he is able to fill an auditorium with 3,000 registered voters whom he encourages to vote him into office as a District Supervisor -- even though he doesn't really want the job. With Diana suspicious of his motives, Plant deeply conflicted between his love for Diana and Jack, and a city increasingly on edge, things quickly go wrong. Horribly wrong.

Polly Levi and Jacob Soss in a scene from Radical
(Photo by: David Wilson)

Working with a bare-bones budget, Fisher draws members of his audience into participating in Jack's antics (even managing to drag an "Officer Krupke" into the action). A prolific playwright and director with a fevered imagination, he adds a certain level of aerobics into the proceedings (Jacob Soss deserves special mention for his ability to zoom from a nervous lover to monstrous levels of anger as the confused and conflicted Plant).

Anyone who follows local politics will find plenty to laugh about in Fisher's new play (as well as some truly cringe-worthy moments). Performances of Radical continue through March 1 at Spark Arts (click here for tickets). Here's the trailer:

* * * * * * * * *

As part of its Sandbox Series for new works, the San Francisco Playhouse recently presented the world premiere of Born in East Berlin. Written by Rogelio Martinez and directed by Margarett Perry, the action takes place in 1988 when 300,000 people showed up for a Bruce Springsteen concert in East Berlin.

As the play begins, an American entertainment lawyer representing Springsteen is meeting with a group of East German bureaucrats to iron out a contract for the rock star's proposed local appearance. For Anne (Ash Malloy), this is all about getting the Germans to agree to the boilerplate demands by Springsteen and his band for the exact types of food and amenities they require in their dressing rooms. For the Germans, it is almost like dealing with a creature from outer space whose logic and language completely mystify them.

Lauren Hart, Ash Malloy, Christopher Reber, and Patrick Andrew Jones
in a scene from Born in East Berlin (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

Just when Anne thinks all the legal details have been laid to rest and she can head for the airport, she is informed that Hans (Patrick Andrew Jones) will take her to a hotel room and be her guide and escort while a committee reviews the contract. Compared to a western hotel (even a Best Western), her lodging is pitifully drab and likely to be bugged. When one of the hotel employees enters, she tries to make conversation with him, unable to discern if he is shy, intimidated by her, or controlled by the government.

Hans (Patrick Andrew Jones) and Anne (Ash Malloy) in a
scene from Born in East Berlin (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

When Hugbert (Christopher Reber) asks how Anne manages to get her red-streaked hair to keep its shape, she decides to play with him as a means to an end. Soon, Hugbert is getting his hair smooshed and sprayed in ways he could never imagine doing by himself.

Anne (Ash Malloy) and Christopher Reber (Hugbert) in a
scene from Born in East Berlin (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

As Anne's mysterious stay in East Berlin continues, she tries to make Hans a little less robotic whenever he answers a question, yet remains unable to unlock the man's drab personality. As SFOP's artistic director, Bill English notes:

“We live in the absolute center of the information age, where the dominant economic powers of our age, bribing us with conductivity and connectedness, gather information on every aspect of our lives. It is not paranoia to fear these intrusions into our privacy or suspect that information gleaned could be used to deprive us of our treasured freedoms. Recent articles have lamented the number of people being falsely arrested when facial recognition software mistook them for a criminal with a slight resemblance. Laudably, San Francisco recently banned the use of facial recognition. We worry these days about our privacy and feel like thousands of eyes are watching us: surveillance cameras, the info we must share to travel or get credit, the cameras on our laptops.”

Christopher Reber (Hugbert) and Wera von Wulfin (Alix) in a
scene from Born in East Berlin (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

“The East Berlin of the late 1980s was a totalitarian state where fear was the governing factor, everyone was afraid of someone looking over their shoulder, and no one could be trusted. The prospect of a Springsteen concert brought out the worst in the paranoid minds of the repressive leaders. Everyone involved in the concert became a suspect to be watched by watchers who were also watched by watchers. The brilliant juxtaposition of the repression of this government with the freedom of rock and roll serves as a cautionary tale for our own age. We have a choice: to protect the very freedoms represented by our most uninhibited art form, or to live in denial that there are strong forces at work in our time bent on collecting as much information as possible about all of us that they would then use to take away our privacy and our freedoms.”

Hans (Patrick Andrew Jones) and Lotte (Lauren Hart) in a
scene from Born in East Berlin (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

Although I wasn't especially moved by Martinez's play, its premiere comes at an extremely delicate moment in American politics. Whereas Radical's Jack considers himself to be a free spirit, the German characters in Born in East Berlin have become depressed and disillusioned under the control of East Germany's totalitarian regime.

Thus, while the lonely Hugbert may be emotionally drawn to Alix (Wera von Wulfin) when the pretty woman offers him free tickets to the Springsteen concert, he knows enough to privately question her motives. Though the rebellious, risk-taking Gerhard (Griffin O’Connor) tries to bring his cautious girlfriend Katja (Isabel Langen) out of her shell, simply knowing that her sister, Lotte (Lauren Hart) is a government spy gives Katja good reason to remain paranoid.

Katja (Isabel Langen) recalls attending a concert by Bruce Springsteen
in a scene from Born in East Berlin (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

When Springsteen finally performs in front of a huge crowd and pulls Katja up onto the stage to dance with him, her momentary taste of the kind of freedom  associated with rock and roll is intoxicating in a way that her sister could never understand. Later, when Lotte grills Anne about her relationship with Hans (who turns out to be Lotte's boyfriend), there is precious little Springsteen's lawyer can do to save a man who long ago gave up any hope for freedom.

With projections and sound design by Theodore J. H. Hulsker, costumes by Stephanie Dittbern, lighting by Andrea Schwartz, and set design by Bill English, Martinez's play eerily resembles a period piece that, like a virus, could come back to haunt Americans. The strongest work comes from Ash Malloy as Anne and Patrick Andrew Jones as Hans, with Christopher Reber and Griffin O'Connor offering cuddly and comic relief. Only Isabel Langen's repressed Katja experiences a transformative moment, thanks to her spontaneous and life-changing interaction with Bruce Springsteen.

Katja (Isabel Langen) recalls being pulled up onstage by
Bruce Springsteen in a scene from Born in East Berlin
(Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

Performances of Born In East Berlin continue through February 29 at the Creativity Theater (click here for tickets).

GREAT GATZOOKS, He Said

Though often marketed to the public as a commodity, one's interaction with art is a highly subjective experience. If you don't believe me, check out this recipe for dill pickle jello from The Vulgar Chef.

The mere thought of tasting the above item produces responses of "Ewww," "Blech," and "Ugh, gross!" from many people. But my reaction was markedly different. I instantly realized that I would probably like such a treat if it had been made with half sour pickles instead of dills. I'm sure that's partly due to the fact that, when I was a teenager, a major treat was to drink some of the garlicky pickle juice from a jar of half sours.

Every now and then I find myself sitting through a theatrical production which has been overhyped, overdirected, or just rubs me the wrong way. As we careen toward the 2020 presidential election, it's becoming painfully obvious that we're living in a society where one man's fact is another man's fiction.

• Although millions love Andrew Lloyd Webber's 1981 musical, Cats, the first time I saw the show (from standing room in the Winter Garden Theatre) I was so appalled that I felt as if I deserved a refund.
• After I saw Wicked during its June 2003 out-of-town tryout in San Francisco, I told a friend that I had exited the Curran Theatre whistling the lighting cues.
• Although I'm hardly a purist (and have enjoyed numerous operatic productions that have been updated to a different era or relocated to a different setting), a particularly loathsome production of Gilbert & Sullivan's 1879 operetta, The Pirates of Penzance, struck me as having been aimed squarely at audiences with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).
• I currently belong to a small minority of theatregoers who were severely underwhelmed by Hamilton.

For critics, having an adverse reaction to a highly acclaimed piece of art is an occupational risk. For others, it can simply result from not having succumbed to a director's artistic vision, not being impressed by what they've experienced in the theatre, or being physically ill during a performance. This week, after sitting through six hours of Elevator Repair Service's acclaimed production of GATZ (much of which felt like mediocre foreplay), I found the experience most impressive for the exquisite quality of the sound design by Ben Jalosa Williams. And therein lies a big problem.

A scene from the Elevator Repair Service's production of GATZ
(Photo by: Mark Barton)

In a conversation between playwrights Edward Albee and Will Eno, Albee once stressed that: "A play is a heard-and-seen experience. If you read a play, you hear it. But if you read a novel, you don't hear the dialogue. You read the dialogue, but you don't hear it." As GATZ's director, John Collins, recalls in his program note:

"In one of comedian Andy Kaufman’s more infamous bits, he would take the stage at a comedy club and, sporting a smoking jacket and a cartoonish upper-class accent, begin reading The Great Gatsby. He threatened to read the whole book, cover to cover, and it provoked both disbelief and fury in his audiences. Kaufman clearly aimed to provoke his comedy club fans with an outlandish stunt. We saw a more intriguing possibility -- and suspected a different version of this stunt might actually make powerful theater."

Cover art for The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fizgerald

"In 2003, I met informally with Scott Shepherd (who plays Nick) and another actor in a cramped office above a small theater. Working in that space is what gave us the idea that eventually became the frame story for GATZ: an employee in a grungy office reading the book out loud at his desk. By the spring of 2004 more actors had joined the effort and, over the course of several weeks of workshops, we created staging for the first half of the book. We were starting to understand the longer rhythms that would become fundamental to the event we hoped to create, with the imaginative focus sometimes plunging completely into Fitzgerald’s story, and then resurfacing into the more mundane reality of the low-rent office."

Scott Shepherd reads from The Great Gatsby in a scene from
GATZ (Photo courtesy of Elevator Repair Service)

Following its May 2006 premiere in Brussels and its American premiere in Minneapolis, GATZ traveled to nearly 30 cities in the United States and around the globe. After its 2010 New York premiere at the Public Theatre, the production opened in London's West End in 2011.

As GATZ begins, an office worker (Scott Shepherd) arrives at work, sits down at his desk, and attempts to start his computer. Those members of the audience who could clearly see the monitor's screen enjoyed a good laugh at the sight of MS-DOS text scrolling up during the boot sequence and then stubbornly refusing to continue. Numerous reboots prove futile as the employee discovers a copy of The Great Gatsby hidden in his Rolodex and begins to read aloud from Fitzgerald's novel. As other employees arrive at work and begin to silently enact the frustrations of their office routine, they slowly become shapeshifters who can step in and out of the characters from The Great Gatsby as Shepherd assumes the voice of the novel's narrator, Nick Carraway.

Scott Shepherd reads from The Great Gatsby in a scene from
GATZ (Photo courtesy of Elevator Repair Service)

Unfortunately, ERS's heavy reliance on manufactured stage business for the office workers when the text is merely narrative (and pantomime when Fitzgerald's characters are not speaking) became quite tedious about 50 minutes into the experience. By the end of an excruciating slog through GATZ's two-hour-long first act, I was bored to tears. Like several others in the audience, I considered bailing on the experience and going home. Nevertheless, I persisted. Having learned on numerous occasions that the first half of a production can be top-heavy with exposition while the second half eventually brings the throbbing meat of the drama to a sizzle, I returned to the theatre following the dinner break.

Jim Fletcher portrays Jay Gatsby in a scene from GATZ
(Photo by Steven Gunther)

“Gatz has been a lesson in patience, persistence, and drive," explains Collins. "The idea to perform every word of the book came to us early in the process. We knew we were interested in the writing (not just the story) and quickly found that the elegant efficiency of Fitzgerald’s style was compromised when we tried to edit or condense his words. The prose is so delicately and expertly constructed that even the omission of a single adjective is rhythmically disappointing. When editing The Great Gatsby started to feel problematic, one simple, obvious, and thrillingly challenging idea occurred to us: do the whole thing. Treat the novel as a novel and don’t try to make it into a play. And so we set about devising ways to make the novel work on stage in its entirety, keeping every ‘he said’ and ‘she said.’ Here was an enticing “impossible” task to work on and an inspiring non-theatrical text. The absurdity of the idea was not lost on us. There were certainly times of intense frustration along the way, but in the end I wouldn’t have it happen any differently. I am still discovering new evidence of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s genius.”

Scott Shepherd in a scene from GATZ (Photo by: Ian Douglas)

Some novelists opt to structure their chapters so that readers can see a situation unfolding through the eyes of different characters. Others may choose to construct a novel in an epistolary format. When one thinks about more traditional "he said, she said" narratives, the first things that come to mind are (a) couples counseling, (b) domestic squabbles, or (c) a police procedural.

In the case of GATZ, the "he said, she said" format is a dramatic gimmick that sputters to an early death. For those who don't worship Fitzgerald like a literary god, 5-1/2 hours of its use (with the narrator often walking around the stage and sometimes not even facing the audience) can become a crashing bore. This became acutely evident in the last 30 minutes of ERS's six-hour marathon when Scott Shepherd sat down at a simple desk, faced out into the audience, and recited some of Fitzgerald's most beautiful text with no visual distractions. That part of the experience delivered the kind of exquisite poignancy and admiration for a great wordsmith that had been sorely missing from so much of the performance.

In prolonged dramas that are stretched over a matinee and evening performance (The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, Angels in America, The Inheritance) an audience needs to feel a sufficient emotional investment in what's happening onstage in order to care about the characters and their stories. In Richard Wagner's 19-hour Ring of the Nibelungen (which is spread over four performances) there are obvious structural reasons for Wotan's monologue in Act II of Die Walkure and the prologue to Gotterdammerung (during which three Norns revisit the entire plot of the Norse saga.) Without Supertitles, it's easy for a person to close one's eyes and just listen to the music.


To my mind, part of the problem with this production of GATZ is due to how people experience a narrative when they read it by themselves (as opposed to when it has been interpreted for them onstage or in film -- where casting, costuming, lighting and set design help to conjure up visions that would otherwise be created by the reader's imagination). Those who attend readings of new plays or performances by such groups as San Francisco's Word For Word know how stimulating the process can be.

Though I was quite impressed by Scott Shepherd's performance as Nick, the other members of the ERS ensemble -- Laurena Allan as Myrtle Wilson, Frank Boyd as George Wilson, Jim Fletcher as Jay Gatsby, Ross Fletcher as Henry C. Gatz, Lindsay Hockaday as Catherine, Maggie Hoffman as Lucille McKee, Robert M. Johanson as Tom Buchanan, Vin Knight as Chester McKee, Annie McNamara as Daisy Buchanan, Gavin Price as Ewing, Susie Sokol as Jordan Baker, and Ben Jalosa Williams as Michaelis -- were supporting players at best, and a director's pawns as the office workers.

With a unit set designed by Louisa Thompson, costumes by Colleen Werthmann, and lighting by Mark Barton, the experience left me surprisingly underwhelmed. But as the old saying goes: "Opinions are like assholes, everybody's got one."

Performances of GATZ continue through March 1 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre (click here for tickets).