Adams,+Henry

Musical theater is one of those things that I find to be truly beautiful and inspiring when done correctly or displayed to the proper audience. Though my knowledge in musical theater is not very extensive, I have seen, participated in, and read or watched clips from a few of very well known and influential performances. In all of the performances with which I was quite taken, there were certain defining characteristics that link them all together as great musicals in my mind. In many of the musicals, such as Wicked, Avenue Q, Rent, American Idiot, there were very well defined and moving themes that could be applied directly to life. In Wicked, the idea of what wickedness is examined through the story of the three witches of Oz, and I feel that the creators of the musical succeeded in creating a world in which we, as the audience, are forced to come terms with the fact that wickedness in what the beholder makes of it, and that there is often more than meets the eye. In American Idiot, there is one scene in particular, and this is an example of the importance in visual representation and aesthetic appeal in correlation to the thematic elements, in which a man is dressed in only his underwear, dancing around with three sparkling ladies clad in red, white, and blue. The man is extremely muscly and his underwear is even stuffed to imply that he is “well endowed”. But in a matter seconds, he is transformed into a military officer in full uniform. This transformation represents the way in which the military has been glamorized and emasculated in the way that it is advertised. Rent is fantastic because it addresses certain subjects that are so often considered taboo: AIDS, homosexuality. Not only does it put these issues in the forefront of the performance, it presents them in ways that make them have better connotations because of how they relate such widely excepted concepts: Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Happiness. But, if one was to only watch the musical for the purpose of some deeper meaning, one could just read the script on the internet. First and foremost, the musical theater is defined by its music. Many different people have different musical preferences, so one person could dislike one musical’s score and love another. However, in general, I feel that a musical’s music must emulate the feelings that emulate the story being told. It’s one of the wonderful things about musical theater, the music tells a story just as wonderful as the dialogue. From the first to the last song, the soundtrack of Wicked can tell the entire story: from the birth of the Wicked Witch to her “death”. The music in Avenue Q emphasizes comedy much more so than Wicked, however, the songs also clearly express the issues of the play, and in a way that is easily excepted by the audience, mainly because of the level of comedy. For instance, there are songs about how “life really sucks”, “if you were gay, it’d be okay. . .”, and about “everyone’s a little bit racist”. However, even if the musics tells a story, it needs to tell a story in way that is interesting to the audience, is not mundane or easily boring, or ridiculous in the scale of it. Oklahoma! may be a boring production all and all, but the musical is especially uninteresting. The melody is relative and and has no vocal harmony. For me, it is not a desirable score. Obviously, someone liked it, or there wouldn’t have been a revival. In Chorus Line, which I have heard is supposed to be a fantastic show, the scale and ridiculousness of the dance and musical number is distracting and seems hardly relevant and just too sparkly. I also think that, while the dance numbers were flashy and fun to watch, Contact is a relatively boring production. The dance sequences have some sort of story arc, however, it just goes on and on and on and it seems someone stiff and agitated, the dancers I mean. It makes it difficult to watch for an extended period of time, or rather the time that it takes to go through the entire scene. Something that I think, for the most part, most musicals succeed in in one shape or another is the aesthetic appeal of the set. Simple and plain, the set needs to be not too distracting from the main elements of the show while also contributing to the overall production. The set of My Fair Lady in the clips shown, especially in the, what I would assume to be, the living room scene, was beautiful in the thin lines and curves that implied walls and doors and the shape of the house and also contributed and air of fragility. Above all, the artistic vision in The Lion King is truly incredible. The way that Julie Taymor envisioned the African savanna and made elaborate costumes and sets that captivated the audience and help the same wonder and splendor of the legendary lions, it lacked the ridiculous look that having huge costumes made of huge amounts of fake fur and make up can give, like in Cats. This production also succeeded because of the relevance that is had, and still has to a large audience, being an adaptation of a beloved Disney movie.
 * Ideas About Musical Theater**

It is so puzzling, walking in on a set before a performance; sitting in one’s seat and thinking about how this apparently lifeless thing will be animated by the presence and personalities of the characters posed to enter. As I sat in my seat, zoning in and out of the trivial conversations of the people around me, a few things came to mind: beautiful, simplistic, inventive. Two of my predictions were to be proven correct by the production that would start in a few mere minutes. The set, the props, the lighting, and the positions of the characters, even those that were “offstage”, all proved to be ingenious and creative. Above all, this production was beautiful: the care and emotion that went into a came out of the performances of the actors were amazing to behold. However, the one prediction that was proven incorrect was that of simplicity. True, the set was very sleek and simple; however this plainness was not in any way emulated by the overall production. In fact, the complexities of the characters, the plot, the way that the audiences’ grasp of the situation changes throughout the corse of the day (the timeline of the play), all proved to be staggering in effect that they had on the play. The play began with a wonderfully realistic radio broadcast bringing up the lights. We see the back yard of the main house, fit with a bench, a table with chairs and coffee cups, and a strange wire contraption laying on its side. Joe Keller, the father of the principal family is sitting outside, having idle chats with the neighbors as they come and go as they please from the yard. The light is warm and inviting, like a sun rise, simulating the beginning of what would prove to be a roller coaster of a day. Almost immediately, it is established that the strange wire construct is in fact a tree, as established by the frequent comments: “Oh, did the wind get your tree?” etc. While they seem to be simple comments of decorum, it becomes clear that there is more behind the felling of this particular apple tree that there would seem. Once we have been introduced to a few of the neighbor characters, the son, Chris Keller makes his entrance into the back yard from the house. He asks of his father if his mother has seen the tree, to which his father replies no. The proceed to scheme as to how they were going to show her. Immediately, it can be inferred that something is amiss. It was obvious that the mother had a deep connection to the tree. Once Kate Keller walks out from the house, we begin to comprehend the nature of the beast: this tree was her son’s tree, a tree planted in memorial to the son who was lost, or M.I.A. rather, in the war. This is the basis upon which the entire plot is built. And oh, how it was built! From the very beginning of the play, the characters seemed to be cemented in the role that they had to play in the production: the father was the supportive comical character, the son was the level minded and practical one, and the mother held the persona of a woman tormented by the past and the desperate need for her son to come home to her. The neighboring characters seemed to provide only some amount of comic relief and homeless: the effect of having friends bustling in and out of ones yard. However, everything begins to change once different characters are introduced. Ann Deever, an independent, outspoken, yet compassionate, young woman, enters the action, playing the seemingly innocent role of a woman to be married, at least after Chris proposes. However, like the meaning behind the fallen tree, there was more to the presence of this character that met the eye. Not only did her presence inspire a proposal, and assumedly a wedding thereafter, but it stirred something much deeper in the hearts of the characters: she was the sweetheart of the lost brother and also the daughter of Joe’s work partner, who was currently rotting in jail, but not after trying to pull Joe along with him. This complex conflict opens up an entirely new direction for the plot which was carried out with amazing energy and precision by the actors and technicians. Every twist and turn was completely unexpected, every emotional outburst was thrilling and terrifying, and every heartbreak was felt within the audience, all the way up until the climax. It was truly fantastic, unlike anything I had ever seen. However, a great story is nothing without those who bring it to life. While I had seen play posters with the guest actor, Brian Reddy, I had not put two and two together that he was to be the father in this production. I walked into the house thinking that this was going to be another all student play, which it almost was in fact, just not students around my age. So, I was frankly quite surprised when I saw Reddy and Marzena Bukowska enter the stage. However, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Reddy provided such life to the stage with his bubbly attitude and happy go-lucky nature and Bukowska gave such a remarkable contrast through the way that her idealistic, romantic side dominated her character’s personality. Reddy developed a truly endearing character in Joe Keller. Through the entire day, after everything that had happened, you never wanted to hate him, or anything other than love him, despite what he had done. Reddy put so much love into the role of Joe, which, in the end, is what defined Joe as a character: he was a man who, as selfish as he may have seemed, acted completely out of love. Up until the very end, there was no tone of hate in his voice, never once. Even during his outburst, I never found him to be angry, simply desperate. Desperate for the love and acceptance of his son. Bukowska put on an amazing performance. Much like Reddy, she defined her character with love, however, she applied it in a much more pitiful, agonizing way. She took this powerful emotion and perfectly related it to an equally powerful emotion: grief. Every time she seems to just babble on about how her son will return to her, that he just can’t possibly be dead, it is the love put forth by Bukowska transformed into grief, transformed into hysteria in a performance that is emotionally profound. Jennifer Schottstadt, playing Ann Deever, also had a certain spark to her character. She had a deep soft tone that was soothing to listen to, and played well into the nature of her character: a woman full of compassion, memories, and love to be had. However, Schottstadt’s skills were displayed in her complete reversal of the way in which she presented herself. One minute she would be placative and relatively soft spoken, and the next she was firm, resolute. However, she never really shouted when she wanted to make herself known. She obtained an absolute and resounding quality to her speech that, when applied as effectively as she did, was far more emotionally invoking than if she were to shout. I found the character of Chris Keller, played by Harry Valentine, to be somewhat stagnant. He always seemed to be level headed, never really assertive, angry or anything of the sort. He took what was coming in stride. While this did provide a vaguely tiring performance from this character throughout the majority of the play it did make is final emotional transformation that much more profound and fantastic. I was indeed shocked at what I was hearing and seeing during the final scenes when Chris confronts his father. The emotion was able to go from 0 to 110 percent in no time at all. The technical and visual aspects of this production were equally as amazing as the acting. The lighting was beautiful, perfectly mimicking the different times of days with different kinds of blues and purples mixed with different levels of reds and oranges. The giant lit screen that dominated the back of the stage put great emphasis on the flow of time throughout the course of the play. Beyond its representation of time, it was very aesthetically pleasing. Having known a little about the production prior to seeing the play it was easy for me to see and accept the idea that the stage was somewhat of an examination table, outfitted with chrome stands, minimalistic representation of the presence of the house, and the tree completely made out of bent metal pipes. I don’t know how effective the statement was to those who had no prior knowledge or to those who did not read the program. It would be easy to see such set designs as simple stylistic preferences rather than larger thematic statements. However, I think it worked. I wasn’t sure if I would like the framed representation of the house, however, it proved to emphasize the analytical aspect of the production: nothing is a secret, in that the off stage characters cannot hide indoors and the actors on stage are constantly being observed by their “offstage” counterparts. I also think that the tree worked well being made of metal. It resembled a dissection instrument, and in a way, that is what it served as. The falling of the tree was, in a way, the first dramatic action that made the first “incision” that inspired the revealing of deeper emotional complexities and conflicts of the characters. Though there was little audio (music, sound effects, etc.) in the play, the few sound bites made the production even more realistic and involving. The radio sounds at the beginning of each act and the small amount of music set the time, the place, and the mood very effectively and they synchronize perfectly with the actors. Above all, sound was the most important aspect of this production at the end when the gunshot can be heard ringing throughout the entire theater. It is shocking to say the least and provides the audience with the same emotional experience of the actors: dazed confusion and then tragic realization.
 * All My Sons Critique**

Based off of the movies provided, of Beckett's //Play//, the exposes of //Einstein on the Beach//, and the two videos of the Berliner Ensemble, one can gather a general idea of some of the characteristics of Theatricalism and the productions that fall into that category:
 * A Brief List of Characteristics of Theatricalism**
 * All of these pieces are in ways unconventional and unexpected, the sonnets especially. One would not expect the bizarre costumes and sets that the Berliner Ensemble uses to perform these adaptations of Shakespeare's sonnets.
 * The plays seem almost like nonsense on the surface; Beckett's //Play// is probably, overall, the most understandable: one can determine that the characters are in some sort of suspended state and their ramblings are about their life in some way. If you knew German, the Ensemble's performance would also obviously be the sonnets. However, //Einstein on the Beach// completely and utterly confusing, without any goal or point to prove, simply bizarre.
 * Despite the strangeness in //Einstein on the Beach// I feel that the goal of Theatricalism is to provide a variation on a theme if you will: a different light on something (be it a plot, a theme, a set, a character, or an archetype), that people are familiar with, or at least to an extent.
 * The way that total theater is described in the books seems to lend to the idea stated previously: it has the ability to shine a different light using the massive casting numbers and any other especially dramatic and theatrical devices.
 * Another factor of Theatricalism, is the idea that the theater should be presented to allow the audience to question the happenings of the theater, the characters, and the characters' decisions. This concept was mainly present in Brecht's concept of theater, a member of the expressionism movement.

If I were to see this production live in a theater the differences that I would find would be in the visual qualities. I feel that the play and the movie are able to use visual effects that lend different, but equally as effective, qualities. Seeing as how one of the few things that are omitted from the introduction in the script is the explicitly detailed appearance (beyond the description of the faces and way in which they are facing) of the urns and their inhabitance, I suppose that the director of the production could get a little more creative with the appearance of the stage, the actors, and the props, much in the way that the film version does. However, it seems that the live stage version is, in all ways, minimalistic in nature and aesthetics: the faces are “so lost to age an aspect as to seem almost part of urns” which would imply that the faces are as placid and flat as the vessels that hold them. This would be effective in the emphasis in the age and the “oneness” with the urn. However, I feel that the make up in the movie version makes it more aesthetically pleasing for the viewer, whether or not the effect is attractive or repulsive. The smoldering and ashy scabs that plague the actors’ faces emphasize the crippling and disintegrating age, which is described in the original script, as well as the implied idea of purgatory. The toning of the skin in the movie also makes the shadows and highlights seem more pronounced, adding extra contrast to the scene, a detail that never fails to look good. One of the greatest aspect of a performance, be it filmed or staged live, is perspective, the way in which the audience looks upon and perceives the subject of the play. In a stage performance, perspective is much more limited: the audience member will sit and view the play from one angle throughout the entire play, assuming that there are no drastic changes to the set. On the other hand, a film can provide drastic differences in the perspective by merely editing two different camera angles together back to back to create an extremely dynamic effect. The film makers for the movie version of Beckett’s play used this changing in perspective to emphasize and cue the characters speaking, in the way that the spotlight would cue the actors in the play version. While the obvious attention to detail and the creativity involved in the film production of the play makes the movie more interesting to view, I feel that the use of quick cuts in editing detracts from the original effect of the stage performance. When the actors and their urns are arranged in their line so that each one can be seen simultaneously the spotlight creates a better streamline effect in the monologues of the characters. The audience can immediately see exactly who is speaking and the rapidity with which the actors speak is more admirable when the timing is immediate. In the movie, while the editing with the speech would provide a more interesting product for viewers, one can’t help but think about how the actors had more time to prepare their speech, instead of having to react exactly directly in correlation with the others. This was only not true in the instances in which the focus of the camera fixed on different characters which cued the actors. However, the changing in focus was a little less impressive and profound than the cutting from face to face, and certainly not the cuts to black and the spotlights. I feel that the differences in the speech between the stage performance and the movie would be very small, if non-existent. If you closed your eyes and just listened to the words, I don’t think you could tell a difference. However the visual transitions between monologues would differ greatly. The quick flashing screens and film grain in the movie that replaced the cuts to black from the play would be much more distracting than shocking. It’s just a bunch of images flashing on the screen, almost in a way that would induce a seizure.
 * Samuel Beckett's Play**

In Judi Dench’s The Cherry Orchard, the playwright omitted no minor detail, in the dress, the set, and, most of all, the speech. The set, being a large drawing room of sorts, which its large hard wood floors, tall windows and drapes, and lounging couches immediately proclaims the characters being those of high class. As the characters enter, the large fur coats, the long dresses and jackets of the women, and the regal beards and mustaches emphasizes such a statement. The most realistic aspect however is the chatter, improvised or otherwise, going on in the background behind the primary dialogue, so similar to the stereotypical idle chatter of the aristocracy. The words being spoken in the foreground are also trivial, giddy, and sentimental, much in the way that anyone would speak after having returned to a beloved place from the past. When the characters switch in and out of the primary dialogue, mainly the ones speaking to the primary character, the topic or feeling of the conversation switches immediately without any embellished transitions as would a typical conversation would if different people were dipping in and out. Once the two main women sit down to talk to one another, the topic of conversation progresses in a realistic fashion, touching on the important aspects of, what is presumably, a late 19th to early 20th century lifestyle: travel, family, gossip, love, who is being betrothed to whom, and, of course, money. Ibsen’s Hebba Gabler is very similar to The Cherry Orchard, in that the set, costumes, and dialogue is very detailed, especially the set: the ornateness and detail that was put into constructing it, especially certain aspects like the clock on the staircase and the beautiful living room, fit with lit windows, curtains, cabinets, bookcases, the portraits on the walls, everything. A sense of space is also well established through the smooth transition from the staircase area to the living room, providing a perspective on how massive a house of the aristocracy could be, even by showing two rooms in a house. The costuming is also especially detailed, particularly the dress of Aunt Julie: she era specific in her clothing, complete with the hilarious hat, shawl/cape, and poofy shirt and gloves. It makes her quite a spectacle. Also like The Cherry Orchard, the topic of conversation is very shallow, very colloquial, nothing too shocking for a conversation: marriage, leaving a house, inheriting a house, children, grandchildren, MONEY! The characters are also quite fitting: the caring aunt, the sweet but slightly air headed, nephew, and his rather rude wife. Strindberg’s Miss Julie is brought to life primarily through the exceptional use of set design and detail. While it isn’t as intricate as the other sets that had been seen previously, it is in ways much more realistic because of the degree with which the actors interact with their props: the cutting of break, poring wine, even the secret wine compartment. The yard that can be seen out through the house entries and the music that can be heard playing in the distance also help set the scene. The characters are rather typical and stagnant: the mild and somewhat cocky master of the house and his sarcastic and “doesn’t take crap” kind of housemaid/fiance (couldn’t tell). Dinner talk is the usual: who was at a dance from which the master had returned, which commoners are acting out of place, and so on and so forth. Now, while the set and the clothing is still very realistic in The Iceman Cometh, with the whole mid 20th century American dress and accent, this is starting to become more of a modern type play in that the monologue that is being performed is anything but realistic. While poetic and stirring to listen to, people generally do not get up in,what appeared to be, a bar, and start monologuing about loves of the past. Monologuing, while a powerful theatrical device is something that we make fun of super villains from doing. While people do go on these long rambling stories in which words just spew from the mount in pure creation, in most cases, these stories are being told to someone, and that someone is shown to indicate that they are listening. The people in the background, as can be noticed, are practically statues. One woman moves once, but slightly, and in a way that she keeps her head bowed looking at the table. As the main man continues his speech, the camera zooms in on his face and continues to isolate him as the only important or rather the only aspect of the scene, making it seem like he just talking to himself. Edmund’s monologue in Long Day’s Journey into the Night, while still a monologue and inherently bizarre, it is still more realistic than The Iceman Cometh. Edmund addresses his companion, and the camera from time to time includes some part of the other man in the shot and this, along with the fact that the man is positioned looking at Edmund, makes him seem engaged in the scene and the words that are being spoken. While his monologue is beautiful and poetic, it is a little too much so for normal story telling. However, I suppose that that is what theater is for: to display the best and the worst aspects of humans. Anyways, the set is also quite enthralling. The darkness of the room and the isolation of the light really sets the night time almost dream-like setting. The sounds and the light of the lighthouse outside of the shack provide exceptional detail and personality to the setting. The scene from The Glass Menagerie was one of my favorites, regardless of realistic qualities or otherwise. The acting and the dialogue were so emotional, so enthralling and precise, that they make the audience believe what is going on stage is nothing but the truth. Katherine Hepburn is so convincing as an over-sheltering mother and the way in which her personality brings out the obviously unexpected aggressive aspect of her son’s temperament provides for a fantastic spectacle. And of course, the wallpapered, porcelain plate decorate, walls of the house provide a perfect setting from which the son’s character has to escape. While the intro of Death of a Salesman is rather longwinded, rehearsed, and unbelievable, the actual scene performed by the actors on stage is quite wonderful. Even without the set to see, the sound of doors shutting, feet being propped up on tables, etc. makes it just as real and believable. I think that the time in which the play takes place is the mid 1900s, so the characteristics of the man and his wife are very fitting: the man is deep voiced, stern yet somehow caring, but easily angered, especially by the idea that his son has not found his way in life, and he will not be told he is wrong. His wife is, in ways, his foil: she is high pitched in voice, caring, and tries to play the placating pacifist regardless of how she is being treated or spoken to. All she wants is to see everyone happy with their life: she wants her husband to not pass out and wreck the car and to stay instate to work, and she wants to see the best in her son’s current state of unemployment. She is the ultimate submissive 1930s, 1940s wife. Oleanna is obviously a more modern play, and it clearly shows, mainly through the set. While modern plays can easily be highly detailed, it seems that there are small spaces with detail surrounded by areas that are meant to have abstract meaning or purpose. Oleanna’s set is just this. The only area of detail is the chair and the professor’s desk. Around these two objects are is the open tile floor that fades to darkness on all sides. While not serving as an exact representation of a classroom, the darkness does serve to emphasize the scene being played and the isolation and intimidation that a student must feel when speaking with a professor. The jumbled progression of the scenes that are presented provide confusion as to how the scenes fit together. But, the way in which the teacher starts speaking is minimalistic and somewhat condescending, which in turn encourages the student to get passionate, which then results in the last few scenes in which the girl is shouting and the teacher is trying to remedy the situation. How realistic this is is something to be debated, but it provides for a convincing performance. The excerpt from Glengarry Glen Ross is extraordinarily confusing and irritating to follow, but simply by listening to the conversation and paying attention to the setting, one can assume that the two men are discussing some sort of scheme, presumably illegal, which is good because they are discussing robbery. The set is shady: dark cool lighting with a few neon signs and smoke would indicate that the two men are at a bar, the perfect place to discuss illicit activities. The way in which they speak, short quit quips, firing back and forth, indicate the delicate status of the conversation. Again, the random spewing of names, rates, items to be stolen, etc. is difficult to understand, but if one was to overhear a robbery being spoken about, it would sound something that like: words and names that don’t make sense to anyone except for those who are discussing the topic. True West is pretty bizarre. I honestly had very little idea as to what was going on or what the point of the conversation was between the two men. However, what is accomplished by this piece, is the highlighting of the differences between the two (assumably) house mates. The house is a nice 70s era house, carpeted, with a back patio. This birds are chirping, and the light casts a pastel glow on the set. This setting is much more fitting for the personality that is the man in the green shirt, a man who is said to have attended an Ivey League school, is a script writer, so on and so forth, rather than his trashy “go where the wind takes me” roommate, Lee. The conversation goes every which way, through awkward spots in which Lee just goes off on his roommate about being someone of higher society, etc. etc. and through periods of simple conversation. It seems like a very believable conversation between to two people who know each other, but have nothing in common. Fences is a beautiful play, and the performance from James Earl Jones is a wonderful spectacle. His voice carries and commands the stage in such a way that provides a whole new perspective on the play. His power and emotion is complimented well by the actor playing his son’s shaky way of speaking, almost as if he seems like he is on the verge of crying the entire time. Having read the play, I always pictured more detail to be put into the set. However, I suppose the minimalistic set and the black background, like Oleanna, put emphasis on the importance of the dialogue and the words. Nothing is really poetic, in fact, Jones’ speech is all about the real world, how the real world works. If anything, Fences portrays some of the greatest realism amongst all of these plays.
 * Realism**

After being relatively disappointed by the first production, 39 steps, my hopes for the production of Life is a Dream were slightly diminished. However, I entered the playhouse with an open mind and heart and, to my delight and mild surprise, I was thoroughly impressed. While the original presentation of the show was, as I’ll admit, a little bit unorthodox, it evolved into an enthralling and admirable performance. As the lights went up, a stark landscape of chairs and blank stage space dominates area, presenting a harsh and cold atmosphere, one that was appropriate for the introductory scenes: a company retreat, a team building exercise of sorts, a situation that demands a strict environment. Immediately, contrasts are established between the cutthroat and ruthless attitudes of Boots, and Straps, the business partners leading the retreat, and the lively and almost bubbly personalities of the company workers. Having lightly researched the play Life is a Dream, I was skeptical as to how a company team building retreat was going to tie into a tale of kings, princes, and courts hailing from the 1600s. After some introduction to the characters and the structure of the company (who was in charge, who were the subordinates), the plot began to reveal itself: the “group activity” acted as the transition into the plot of the actual play with the help of Mrs. Straps’ ingenious and interactive virtual reality invention. This development was creative in creating the parallels between a modern company, fit with its metaphorical kings, princes, princesses, and squires, however it proved to difficult to follow, especially when the actors would transition from one plot stream to another. Once the plot of the original play became established, with modern interruptions few and far between, it flowed fluidly and constantly, being well supported by the actors, who kept the rate of action & reaction well controlled. The plot reminded my greatly of a Shakespearean play, one with kings, vengeful heirs to the throne, romances, betrayal, and great battles. It was quite entertaining to watch: the story was neither predictable, nor overly complex and convoluted, and I was thoroughly engrossed until the very end of the play. The ending was non-traditional, very much like the beginning, in many ways: the modern characters, after playing through one possible ending to the traditional play, changed the resolution, and then the illusion of a happy conclusion is shattered when the modern characters realize that they had been scammed by Mr. Boots and Mrs. Sctraps. Though such an ending may seem bizarre, it sort of lends to the idea of a dream: one sometimes has power of where a dream will go, but regardless, it always has an air of idiocy once one has been woken. What I was most impressed with was the acting, by far. For those that bore the responsibility of an important role, this play’s dramatic monologues and dialogues provided an opportunity to prove oneself as an actor. The intensity and passion that these people gave to their roles were incredible. The actress who played Segismundo brought forth the anger and the fiery rational that define the two halves of the character, the passionate prince brought to the world for the first time, and the calculating usurper fighting for his right to rule, while trying to avoid his proclaimed violent destiny. The actress who played Rosaura played with so much emotion and conviction, bringing forth the resolve and internal complexities of her character on her quest to regain her honor. Some of the most interesting and possibly most dynamic characters, were the mothers of the main characters. Dead or alive, they provided explanations to the audience and assistance to their children, effectively fueling the conflicts for power or vengeance. In a fashion, they acted as the witches from MacBeth, making vague predictions or suggestions that would send their children blazing down a trail of action, for better or for worse. Not only did the individual characters present themselves as striking, but the entire cast functioned together as a well oiled machine. Whenever multiple characters performed in synchronization, like the singing, dancing, and group narration, a Greek Chorus of sorts was established, lending a surrealistic effect to the performance, something that made everything seem much more like a dream. This surrealism was brought about primarily by the dance sequences, which seemed to completely random if nothing else, very much like the random interjections that we often experience in a dream. The style of the choreography, a combination of yoga and sign language, made the performance seem half natural, half otherworldly. Overall, it was very effective. In terms of the production, there isn’t much to be said. This was truly a play supported by the actors and their voices and motions. The lighting was simplistic, if even non-existent. Aside from the fade from and to black at the beginning and then ending, the harsh white light remained consistent throughout the play, effectively maintaining the harsh atmosphere presented from the very beginning. However, simplicity is not necessarily a bad thing and it certainly wasn’t in this production. If the lights had been constantly changing to fit the mood of the scene at hand, the emphasis on the words of the characters would have been detracted greatly. The same goes for the props and the costumes. With only the chairs and the one chest occupying the stage space, the audience could imagine and dream themselves into the world that was being described to them, much like how the office workers had to dream themselves into the setting to participate in the activity. The costumes also left much to be described by the actors. They could display, gender (or gender ambiguity), social status (or lack thereof), and little else. Overall, Life is a Dream was highly stylized production that emphasized the talent of the actors rather than the quantity or the quality of the costumes and set, and effectively created parallels between a modern day kingdom, such as a company, and a monarchy from the 17th century. The vision that helped to create this production fabricated a performance that was ingenious, insightful, and an enjoyment to behold.
 * Life is a Dream Critique**

The 39 Steps was a comical and enjoyable way to introduce myself to the performances of the UGA theater department. I must say, when I entered the Cellar Theater, I was quite taken with the performance space: it was well constructed and comfortable while still managing to hold a worn and humble aspect. However, the lack of solid and grand sets and props led me to be curious as to how the set was to be presented. The opening of the play was very enjoyable and creative with the incorporation of recorded video projected onto the canvas, a device used to relate the stage performance to its cinematic predecessor. So far so good. The witty titles and the smooth transition from video to live performance had left me very optimistic. However, as I was introduced to the main character, Mr. Hannay, I become more and more disenchanted. He had the nuances of a snooty Englishman, however, he failed to maintain them. The accent varied from a respectable British twang to what simply seemed to be a cliche pretentious upperclassman of some English speaking country. His vocal inflections remained fairly stagnant, making him a very boring person to listen to. As the play continued, the introduction of the first female character, the secret agent, brought some personality to the performance, however, her “German” accent became tiring after the first few minutes. She over pronounced many of her “w” and “v”, in what seemed to be an attempt to be Frau Bleucher from Young Frankenstein. However, she didn’t succeed. After approximately 20 minutes of half hearted laughter, the mood and the level of comedy was risen greatly from the entrance of the two clowns. Their energy and personality gave so much body to the performance. One of the most impressive aspects of their presentation was the fluidity and simplicity with which they could change their persona. With merely a pitching of the voice or a the flip of a hat they could assume an entirely different identity. And so the play continued on with a fairly constant pace: there were no greatly exciting moments, nor were there points of great sluggishness, which is always something to be said. One of the things that I thought was quite clever, though, was the multiple Hitchcock based puns that the actors improvised, which was a major part of the scene in which Hannay “elopes” with the Scottish red-head. However, like many things in the play, the puns eventually became over used and sloppy, failing to be a clever allusion and becoming more of a joke for a joke’s sake. Overall, the way in which the actors carried themselves and the plot through the performance was decent. As stated previously, the clowns, I believed, played their multiple roles quite well and added to the flare of the play. The leading man and lady portrayed their characters well though without much innovation: the man playing Hannay failed to provide any dynamic energy. The leading lady was better at providing more drastic differences between her emotions, but again, such expression remained fairly constant throughout the play. It is difficult to say whether or not such performances were the result of lack of ingenuity from the actors or of the original characters being stagnant personalities. However, despite the underwhelming acting, the production itself was fantastic. The lighting technicians did a fantastic job reacting to the actions on stage and properly setting the mood. The smoke that was added during many scenes made the lighting that much more effective. The lighting perfectly commingled with the music in the background, especially in a scene in which there was a party behind a door leading to an “offstage” room: the music would play and golden light would shine through the door with believable accuracy and atmosphere. The costuming was also very well done: it was era appropriate, clean cut and not too showy, and helped truly define the characters, especially those that were played by the two “clowns”. But above all, the set use and direction was fantastic. Though the props and sets were relatively sparse, the way in which the cast and crew manipulated the door, the windows, chairs, trunks, wooden frames, and the one large wheeled metal complex, allowed the audience to completely ignore the empty space, an effect that was also greatly helped through the emphasis placed on certain areas of the stage with the lighting. The door and the windows, it seemed, turned out to be the most valuable assets, providing for the multiple transitions from setting to setting, such as in the Professor’s mansion, and for an added depth and view into the world beyond the primary set, such as the Scottish farmer looking in from the window at Hannay and the wife. Overall, the production of 39 Steps was well done. Though the acting was lacking in some cases, the masterful use of lighting, costuming and prop work truly supported the production to a great extent and helped to define many of the characters the audience experiences.
 * 39 Steps Critique**

Within the first few lines of the first page, the Olivier version presents a more cheerful or at least easy tone, what with the simple French dialogue and the first assertion by Orleans, whereas the Branaugh version go strait into what seems to be the main situation by starting with “Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh!”. Throughout the rest of the scene, it seems that the Branaugh writes the scene in a way that portrays the [presumably] French troupes as rather brave, mainly by omitting the line “And doubt them with superfluous courage, ha!” a line which describes the necessity to fool the temperament of the horses through the exaggeration of their own feelings, presumably to cover up their own emotions of terror. The version continues to insert mainly lines that continue to broadcast the ferocity of the French, “And your fair show shall suck away their souls, / Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.” The Olivier version, however, fails to omit the, “And doubt them with superfluous courage, ha!” and then continues to build up the formidability of the English: “The English are embattled, you French peers,” which is then followed up by “A very little little let us do. / And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound / The tucket sonance and the note to mount;” which would imply that the French are beyond true hope, but they will do what they can regardless, a fact which is seemingly supported by “Come, come, away! The sun is high, and we outwear the day.” In the second scene, the Branaugh version sort of goes along with the moods of the first scene of the same version. They way that Branaugh omitted lines to portray the English as less valiant and challenging, something that is presented almost immediately by the omission of “God’s arm strike with us! . . . And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu!” only leaving “‘tis a fearful odds.” a quote that implies that Salisbury is struck dumb by the thought of the odds. The Olivier version did not omit these lines however. This paints a picture that portrays the English as a force that tries to defy the odds. I find the second scene to be interesting, because the way that I interpreted the first scene, I almost would have expected the French to be the underdog, which contradicts the whole 5 to 1 ratio that was described in scene two. The other minor omissions of lines in both versions don’t seem to add or detract much from the overall tone of the play: neither of the two directors manage to further emphasize or detract from the valor or bravery and honor that comes about from fighting alongside King Henry against France.
 * The Two "Henry V"**

//Joe Turner's Come and Gone// is an interesting play in the fact that it presents racial discrimination as a main theme, or rather a factor that promotes the movement and the progression of the plot and its included conflicts, rather than an actual occurrence, such as a race riot. The idea of racial discrimination is, in a way, given form by the kidnapping and subsequent enslavement of the character Loomis by the ghost of a character, Joe Turner. This terrible occurrence is what in the hole splits apart his family and sends him on his journey for his family and, though he doesn't truly realize it until his goal is reached, his elusive song, something that represents the identity of the person. However for the other characters in the play, racial discrimination seams to act more of a "monster in the closet", something that they are frightened by but they don't really want to talk about. The idea of slavery is particularly peculiar in the case of Seth Holly; born into freedom, his idea of racial discrimination is quite different from the other characters that live in the boarding house. Practically ever other character has had some experience with slavery or some other form of racial discrimination, and in turn they have a pride for themselves, their social standing, and their place in life. For instance, Jeremy felt cheated when his boss was practically stealing his hard earned money in "debts". Jeremy, in his well deserved pride, quit his job for the injustice. However, Seth criticized Jeremy for his actions, saying a job is a job and that is going to be tough regardless of where you are and for whom you are working. The irrational hopes of the others of a new beginning in the North are completely lost on Seth, due to his pessimistic and pragmatic view of the world during the time period.
 * "Joe Turner's Come and Gone"**


 * South East Asian Puppet shows ~**


 * Question 1:** Throughout many cultures, clowns occur in theatrical performances in order to make the spectators laugh and to lift the spirit of the performance. Usually this is done through embellished movements and silly facial expressions. However, the shadow puppets that we saw in the video are, after all, puppets and therefore lack the ability of crazy movement and the changing in facial expressions. Thus, the way in which the clown appears as a hysterical figure is primarily through the original physical appearance of the puppet. The puppets are rather stunted, almost dwarf-like, characters with bright red skin and protruding bellies. They wear the typical Sarong around their waste, and their hair is held up in a comical bun or pony tail. Along with their bulging bellies, their eyes are also wide in a perpetual expression of surprise or delight. As was previously stated, the clown lacks a wide range of movements, and so the puppeteer must in turn use the clowns comical appearance to his advantage, combining the visage with the puppeteer's words in order to create a lighter atmosphere.

Hello! My name is Henry Adams. I am a first year Ecology major, I live in Myers Hall, and I love animals, music, and drawing. And that's me in a nutshell!
 * Question 2:** As has been emphasized many times over during the lecture, the puppets and the puppet master tell the many epic stories of Indian religion, illustrating the many lessons to be learned in such epics, particularly the fact that good can never truly vanquish evil. Now I do not know a great deal about Indian epics, but I would assume that there are multiple instances of great heroic triumphs over evil and great terrible victories of dark forces of the forces of good. While this great war is being waged, there can be no victor, a constant stalemate. So, naturally, such performances retelling such events could be very grim, a rather depressing spectacle. So the clown, in turn, would add a little bit of comedy in the glum atmosphere. It would lighten the mood and allow for the continued captivation of the audience.