The Arts in NYC Fall 2012

A number of weeks ago, I traveled all the way uptown, to the Guggenheim, or the “Googy” as my grandmother calls it, to view Picasso Black and White. Surprisingly, this was my first visit to the museum and boy was I mesmerized. Even before entering the famed, spiral-like building, I was blown away. The architecture of the building mixed with the location-across from Central Park on a perfect Fall Sunday made my visit to the museum an incredible one.

After meeting my grandmother at the lobby of the museum, we both headed to the counter for our free tickets-mine being from our ever so amazing cultural passport, and hers because she has some fancy subscription of some sort to all the classy places in the City. It was recommended that we start from the bottom up, so off we went.

Wow were we in for a treat. The museum was masked in black and white. Not a single color to be scene which is shocking for an art museum. What I love most about the  Guggenheim is its focus on a core exhibition-how the museum transforms to revolve around one temporary exhibit, pushing the permanent collections to the side and letting the temporary exhibition shine in all its glory. Well, Picasso Black and White surely did shine! The massive paintings lined the walls of the entire museum making us feel like we were residing in Picasso’s personal studio. Over 50 (I’d say) drawing and paintings took over the space, making us live and breathe Picasso. We were amazed at  the size and stature of the work, the impeccable curatorial skills that went into the show, and the ambiance of the building.

Yet, as we neared the third floor, things seemed to get old. Many of the Picasso’s seemed repetitive-how many pictures of women’s breast can the guy have drawn? How many different variations of the same head was he able to come up with? Even worse, all the works were in black and white. Although the air was crisp and it was a sunny day out, one couldn’t help but feel dark and gloomy after spending an hour surrounded by shades of grey. (No, not 50 shades of grey, few shades of stark white and dreary grey)

All in all, I am happy with my visit to the Guggenheim and am excited to go back. It was an afternoon well spent with my grandmother and definitely a learning experience. I admire how the Guggenheim focuses on what exhibit-made it easy and enjoyable for the viewer and museum goer, however given the large space of the museum, a shorter exhibit would’ve done it just as well for me.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when we went to see Aida. I always thought that operas were long and dreadfully boring, from the opinion of others. However, I neither had any knowledge nor ever attended an opera, so I couldn’t have an opinion of my own.

Thankfully, Jake came to class and taught us the styles and techniques of operas, which would make it easier for us to understand what was going on in Aida. He showed us parts of previous Aida performances and explained which parts of Aida were the big pivotal points of the plot. For example, he showed us Amneris’s jealousy scene, which I immediately recognized in the Monday night performance. If it wasn’t for Jake, I would’ve missed and not understood a big part of Aida.

At the end of the opera, I was relieved that it was finally over. I didn’t enjoy Aida as much as I thought I would. The storyline was actually interesting and full of drama, and would probably make a good movie. But the singing, acting, and prolonged scenes made it seem like it was moving very slow. Even the horses wanted to get off the stage because they felt bored. I couldn’t really see the faces of the actors, but I’m told that their faces were as blank as their acting. Some scenes, such as the scene where Aida and her father fight over whose side she should pick, weren’t dramatic enough. Others seemed to last a lot longer than they should have.

The set, however, was beautifully done. Of course, Lincoln Theatre is known for being beautiful, but I was really surprised by the quality and extravagance of the set and the costumes. If the acting was as good as the setting, this would’ve been a perfect opera. The singing was also very good, but I would expect any star in an opera to be a good singer.

Overall, the opera was definitely an interesting new experience. I really liked the setting, costumes, storyline, and singing, but the acting and length of the show took away from the experience overall. I think that sometime in the near future, I will go to a different opera and see if I have a better experience than this one.

I walked into the Lincoln Center without biased judgments or negative views of the opera. I have heard people speaking poorly of the opera and about how boring it was. But, there are also people I know who loved the opera and enjoyed sitting through everything. The only logical way for me to see if I liked the opera was to go and see for my self. I made the mistake of thinking that modern ballet at the Complexions was going to be a terrible experience. I walked into Complexions believing that the next three hours were going to be arid and drab. As I sat there in the theater I realized how completely wrong I was. I couldn’t have been more naïve and ignorant. I found the statement “never judge a book by its cover” to be truer than ever.

I walked into Lincoln Center believing that I may like the opera. I didn’t judge it prematurely even though I heard so many negative views about the opera. Turns out that I was wrong about that too. Opera just wasn’t enjoyable for me. I found it all to be drab and bleak. It didn’t take many recitatives and arias for me to figure out that I wasn’t compatible with the Opera.

I know that it was three and a half hours long but it honestly felt like seven hours. I was constantly glancing at my watch hoping that the time had gone by quicker than expected. Unfortunately that never happened. The longest part was definitely after the last intermission, which were the last two acts. Even the couple of seconds in between the two acts weren’t good enough because I couldn’t get up and stretch. I felt as though the second part of the last act was dragged out way too much. We all knew they were going to die since they were sealed off in a tomb to die slowly. However, they couldn’t have just ended it simply. They slowly drew it out.

The room and elbow space for each seat was extremely small. Just by stretching my arms I could touch the person a seat away. Plus, having my book bag in between my legs on the ground was even more annoying because my legs became cramped and uncomfortable.

The singing was bearable since I had the subtitles in front of me. As it commenced I just kept looking back and forth between the stage and the little screen. I think the English translation at the Met is much better than the translated version I read in the libretto, which was quite difficult to comprehend. The translations at the Met were more concise and modern, but as some people have stated it feels as though some things may have been lost when it was translated into English.

The most enjoyable parts were the last part of Act I and the beginning of Act II, which were the ceremonies of Radames becoming the commander-in-chief and then the victory scene. The dancing was entertaining and amusing. When the white horses were on stage, I thought they were on the verge of doing something very reckless, but they were kept under control long enough for them to be lead offstage. The orchestra was also quite pleasant. They sounded in tune most of the time, if not all.

Unlike modern ballet I did not enjoy the opera nearly as much. Maybe in the future I might grow into it, but I don’t see that happing anytime soon.

“Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.” If only I had followed Alexander Pope’s advice before heading to Lincoln Center to see Aida. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve heard of the Opera and how grant and elegant one is who heads out to such an event. For as long as I can remember, my grandparents celebrated their Tuesday night, Date Night at Lincoln Center dressed to the nines. I remember my grandma’s long fur coat, her shiny black heels, and my grandpa’s snazzy tux all in honor of such an event. I then remember my parents making the trek to the city to see the show, only to come back and ramble for hours about how cultured and fabulous they felt after sitting through the performance.

As you can tell, the Opera has been hyped up a ton in my life. So as Monday night drew near, I felt a rush of excitement towards this special event. I spent ample time selecting the perfect out-not too fancy, not too under-dressed, found a place to sleep Monday night after the show (no way was I heading back to Long Island at that hour) and I was set for the show. Immediately, upon arriving at Lincoln Center, I got a weird vibe. Firstly, I was let down by the decor of the area. The red velvet walls and chairs didn’t do it for me. Although we sat in the family circle area, I was surprised to see all the  chairs in the place being covered in vinyl, and having little leg room. I was also surprised to see the little water fountains around as Damla pointed out, isn’t this supposed to be a classy event?

Well, even before the show started, I was let down. I got to my seat and after the first fifteen minutes, I am sorry to admit, I fell asleep. Yes, the music was incredible, the actors were extremely talented and the set was to die for, however, the combination of our “cheap seats,” the late hour, and the length of the show put me over the edge. I enjoyed the music, the orchestra and their talent and the set however after a bit, it got old. I found it hard to concentrate on both the subtitles in front of me, and the show and began to gave up. So, I dozed off and woke up as the curtain was drawn at the culmination of the first act.

During intermission, Jackie and I ventured downstairs to take a look at the building. We came across some costumes from various shows, however were disappointed at their grandness. I was surprised to see that only four costumes were on view and that they seemed pretty short of elaborate and detail oriented. So, we headed back to our seats, made the trek upstairs and continued on with the show. Act two was my favorite. Seeing the entire cast on stage, the horses present, the set designs changing, and the talent of the actors blew me away. However, after quite some time I was ready to move on. This feeling resonated with me throughout the show until the final act where I was out cold.

All in all, I am happy I was able to see my first Opera. In my case, I believe it was hyped up too much and it failed to meet my expectations. I enjoyed feeling classy, grown up and elegant, however four hours was just too much for me. I most definitely learned a ton from this experience, and am very thankful for that. However, I am not sure Lincoln Center will be seeing me anytime soon in the future.

Expectations color reality, right? Well, much to my dismay, I expected so much more from the Opera than I received. My criticisms run rampant, so I’ll do my best to keep them terse and understandable before the inner arts aficionado in me begins to scream.

For starters, for what it could have been, the show was downright boring. Within the first five minutes it became immediately clear to me that the point of the Opera was to marvel at the singer’s ability, not the quality or the story or how it was told, nor the acting, nor the score. At times, the singer’s monotonous and unchanging vibrato overshadowed what should have been an impressive composition of music. As a music geek, I did my best to appreciate Verdi’s opera, but the insipid and uninspired melodies of the singers hung over the stringed notes shoulders like clingy children.

To further the boredom I endured, the actors displayed no vivacity or vigor. They simply stood, sang, fel to the floor a few times, pretended to brush each others hair, and grasped halfheartedly to their roles. It all began to sound the same to me. I could hardly differentiate between anger and victory in the King. Aida sounded bored when she was pleading, happy when she was sad, and was generally a boring character to follow. What draws the eye in a play or a show is not only speech but movement and stunning visuals. The grandiosity of the set design was not enough to compensate for the lack of stimulation on the part of the actors.

I was thoroughly impressed by the extravagance of the set design, but it was hardly utilized to its potential. It almost felt as though the magnificence of the set was recompense for the lackluster performance. I found myself asking “WHY” more times than my jaw dropped. For example, why did they need horses for a total of five minutes of standing? Was there any true purpose for the hundreds of slaves and soldiers whose only role was to stand? Perhaps I’m missing something. Maybe I’m too well adjusted to the minimalistic nature of theater and drama that the bombastic nature of Opera goes beyond my head. Or perhaps I’ve learned to appreciate a story and how it is told, not the frilly details beside it.

It just seems like Opera is the well-to-do’s sitcom. Simple. Extravagant. Filled to the brim with special effects and fancy subtleties. Teeming with talent. But truly lacking in content.

If nothing else, I want a better Aida. I want a character I can feel for and empathize with. Not the flat and banal one I experienced. I mean, damn, I even wore a suit.

Look, I’ll be frank. I came into last night’s performance expecting to be bored to the point of tears for the entirety of the performance. I’ll admit that there were portions of last night’s opera that were very engaging and interesting. On the whole, though, this was easily the least enjoyable of the three outings for me, and there are a couple reasons for that in my eyes.

One was simply our distance from the performance itself. I realzie now that you weren’t joking when you suggestsed that we bring some binoculars or opera glasses. I couldn’t see anything clearly, aside from the gigantic backdrops and scenery. I remember when we looked at the clips in the classes during the performances, I enjoyed seeing the performers’ reactions and expressions as they sung their lines. From the nosebleed seats, however, I sometimes couldn’t even tell who was singing between the actors on stage. I couldn’t see their mouths moving. It was really hard to get engaged with the performance when I could not see it.

Another issue that I found critical was the way the story was so incredibly drawn out. It seemed like every line had to be repeated at least five times before they moved on to the next bit of plot development. Now maybe this was important back when translations were not available, and most people could not actually understand what people were saying. But now we have translations and I think the opera needs to adapt a little. It feels extremely stuck in its ways and old-fashioned. I joked with people about Act 1; they took 50 minutes to explain something that could’ve taken 5. All that happened was Radames’ ascension to commander of the army and the revelation of the “love triangle.” Redundancy and repetition were ever-present in this production and I was really turned off by it.

To continue my disappointment, the atmosphere of the opera house itself felt extremely elitist and over my head. For starters, when me and Nate came to the opera house after getting lost, we rode up a gold-painted escalator. Heck, the water fountains were painted gold and the toilet stalls were made of marble. I know this is an upper-class thing, but does it really need to be so extravegant? Then of course, there were chandeliers everywhere, velvet-red carpets on every wall and every floor, elevators with golden doors, etc, etc, etc. It seemed to be more about the looks than the actual show. And the crowd was–and I hate to sound racist–very predominantly white. It was kind of unsettling for me, I’ve always been taught that the arts are something that everyone should be able to enjoy. I guess that’s not the case when half-decent seats cost hundreds of dollars, and even our back-row, CUNY discount seats cost $22.50 a pop.

What I will say I liked was the staging and the scenery. I probably paid more attention to it than to the actors. It was very grandiose and I liked how it clearly borrowed from ancient Egyptian architecture, yet, you could see some clear differences between the real thing and the modified version on stage. It seemed like there was a lot of potential for interaction with the scenery that was not utilized. A lot of the performance was spent standing around, it seemed. I loved in particular the scenery when Radames returns from war. The elevated ground where the king sat, the pillars and structures everywhere, and the way the cast arranged their positions to create an aisle of sorts where the war heroes walked through were all very well-done, I thought.

While I appreciated getting exposure to the opera, in the end, I came away feeling that a lot of my prejudices and stereotypes regarding it were proved true, rather than dispelled. It was stuck-up, rather dull, and excessively long, which is what I expected. Maybe if there’s a time when I can score better seats I’ll feel a little bit better about it. If the opera is to continue to be successful with more than just the affluent white demographic, it has to change. That was probably my biggest disappointment– the lack of diversity in a place as large and diverse as New York City. I’ll definitely go out again to see a modern dance performance. And I’ll assuredly be seeing more plays and musicals. But as for the opera, I’m having trouble envisioning a scenario where I’ll be back.

-Ben

The Signature Theatre Company’s production of “The Piano Lesson,” directed by Ruben Santiago-Hudson, was a worthwhile performance that enabled me to further and greatly appreciate August Wilson’s work for a number of reasons.

Although the play most certainly followed Wilson’s dialogue and instructions to a tee, Boy Willie’s “boyishness,” brashness, and impulsivity are evident. His personality shines on stage incomparably to that of the written version. The power and struggle behind Boy Willie’s words are wonderfully stressed by Brandon J. Dirden’s performance. For example, Boy Willie’s proclamation, “She ain’t got to sell it. I’m gonna sell it. I own just as much of it as she does,” lacks the intensity and passion Dirden provides it with on stage when compared to the text. Charles Isherwood, author of the hyperlinked review of the play’s revival from the New York Times, describes Boy Willie’s entrance beautifully: “He blows into the living room of the house where the play is set like a fierce gust of wind, brimming with excited talk [and] … seems filled to bursting with ambition, excitement, heedless hope.” This could not be a more perfect indication of how ‘alive’ the play is on stage.

Berniece’s character, played by Roslyn Ruff, comes to life in the second half of the play, although her strength and in-your-face attitude are evident from the moment of her appearance on stage.

In contrast to reading the play, Lymon’s child-like spirit and his comedic relief are better seen on stage. The inflections of his voice and gentleness are priceless. A great moment reflecting this is:

Boy Willie: She getting big, Doaker. You remember her, Lymon?

Lymon: She used to be real little.

Another enjoyable moment includes Boy Willie’s remark regarding James Sutter, when Berniece thought she saw Sutter’s ghost, where he says, “The man ain’t never left Marlin County when he was living … and he’s gonna come all he way up here now that he’s dead?” I cannot stress how surprised I was by Dirden’s rendition of Boy Willie; I was quite amazed.

Boy Willie playing boogie-woogie on the piano, Doaker instructing Berniece on which ham hocks to pick up from Logan Street, and the lively singing of “Oh Lord Berta,” amongst others, brought a smile to each member of the audience; entertaining and captivating scenes.

These moments were incredible to watch, but I do have some criticisms as well. For one thing, the second half of the play went by too fast. Reading the play was much more satisfying because the moments sunk in – they did not overwhelm you. The play’s ending, on the other hand, was quite overwhelming – my second problem. Ghosts, flickering lights, screams, pleas, cries, struggle, a booming piano, and other elements that contributed to the chaos of that culminating moment appeared, quite frankly, as excessive – for lack of a better term.

Admittedly, I was hoping Santiago-Hudson would take some creative license and give audiences that ‘Of Mice and Men moment’ many of us, or at least myself, were hoping for – Berniece taking aim and shooting Boy Willie. I remember thinking that I would have preferred to see that scenario unfold rather than the play’s ending – during which one thought ran through my mind: “Wow, overly dramatic.” I now realize that Wilson intended this scene to be an “exorcism and a dressing for battle. A rustle of wind blowing across two continents,” thus requiring the scene to be that ‘over-the-top.’

Before ending, I would like to share a short, but insightful, piece of information Toni Morrison provides, in her foreword of my copy of the play, very accurately and succinctly explaining how The Piano Lesson is representative of the struggle the play’s characters face – “the dilemma of embracing their past as slaves in the thirties.” She notes that Berniece’s unbreakable attachment to the piano “is literally and figuratively her and her ancestors’ history.” Boy Willie’s struggle to sell the piano is not for the mere possession of pocket money; it is a “fierce determination to acquire the slave-owning family’s land is fueled by a history of white violence.” She concludes her analysis with a powerful description of the piano: “the womb and seed of the outrageous personal malice suffered by family members as well as their revenge.”

While I feel that reading the play relays these messages and themes across more readily than viewing its performance, the emotions and visual representation of this message are undoubtedly and exquisitely performed by the Signature Theatre’s cast.

– Salma

Because I wasn’t able to go see The Piano Lesson with you guys, I’m going to be reviewing something else.

So, awhile back, I won tickets on Twitter to go see a movie called Red Flag, produced and written by Girls star Alex Karpovsky. It was being screened at SVA Theatre as part of the Friars Club Comedy Film Festival.

(Side note: Girls is entirely self-indulgent and ridiculous and funny and good. Watch it! The second season starts on HBO in January.)

I was really excited about it. I once saw Alex Karpovsky at Union Square and, after I bravely made eye contact with him, he gave me a nod and a weak smile. So I guess you could say that I’ve been a little obsessed with him from that moment.

I went to go see the film with a friend on a cold and bright Saturday evening.

The movie itself is a little meta, in the sense that it’s about filmmaker – named Alex Karpovsky – who tours his film through the South while simultaneously trying to patch things up with his girlfriend.

Alex and his girlfriend break up because he refuses to get married, and the breakup sends him spiraling ever downwards. To cope, he ends up sleeping with River, a superfan who later follows him on his tour. Later, Alex’s friend Henry – his faithful travel buddy – ends up falling in love with River.

And just when you think it can’t get any more mixed up — Alex convinces his girlfriend to fly down so that they can work things out.

Overall, I enjoyed the movie. My friend didn’t — actually, she made me buy her dinner to make up for it.

We did both agree that it was a little lacking in narrative structure. But where I thought it was meta and funny, my friend thought it was narcissistic.

Que sera sera, I guess.

After the screening, the cast came up on stage to answer questions. As it turns out, a lot of it was made up along the way, which I thought was a pretty brave way to go about things. Check it:

(From left to right: Rachel, River, Alex, and Henry.)

– damla

The play was so much better than the book.

While reading, I didn’t enjoy “The Piano Lesson” very much because I felt that August Wilson built up the suspense so much that he just let me down at the end. I wanted Boy Wille to sell the piano, or Bernice to shoot Boy Wille, but none of that happened. However, after watching the play I am glad that Bernice didn’t shoot Boy Willie.

Boy Willie gave me the impression of a little boy, who is playful and always full of energy and hope. He wants what he wants and he is very determined to get it. I love the way Brandon J. Dirden portrayed Boy Willie. He highlighted the playfulness very well. The way he speaks, the way he walks and dances was very amusing. It kept me very entertained.

While watching the play, one thing I noticed is the importance of the lighting and the sound. The lighting, the background music and even the set make the play a lot more exciting. My favorite part is when Boy Wille struggles with Sutter’s ghost. The crying, screaming and the struggling plus the creepy background music and the lighting made the atmosphere quite scary.

I am glad that I decided to go watch the play. I enjoyed it a lot.

Since I wasn’t able to go to “The Piano Lesson” I went to the American Folk Art Museum with my friend Dave whose also in Macaulay. It was nice to visit a new museum that I had never been to before. The museum was a cute little space with two exhibitions.

First I saw the Tinsel Paintings. They were paintings made of tinfoil, painted in reverse on glass! The artwork was so unique and cool, unlike anything I have ever seen before.  It was created entirely by women. Flowers were a famous theme in the artwork. The artwork was filled with floral imagery. The floral theme was inspired by the botanical prints of the scientist Linnaeus.  The flowers hold many meanings. The red rose symbolizes romantic love and the pink rose symbolizes undying everlasting love. The way the paintings are composed is very interesting, They are reverse paintings on glass and metallic foil backed. They look very shiny and are aesthetically pleasing. (I took pictures but this forum wont let me upload them because it said we “filled our storage quota”) My favorite tinsel painting was “Still Life With Leaves and Fruit.” The pieces of art were all similar because most contained fruits and vegetables. We see how much nature is truly appreciated by these women.

On the other side of the museum there were abstract 3-D pieces of art. One that stood out to me was the “Button Tree” by Gregory Warmack Aka Mr. Imagination. It was a tree made entirely of different colorful buttons! Another really interesting piece of art was the “Baby Blanket.” This blanket consisted of a quilt-like structure made up of aluminum wrapped condemns. Title is ironic isn’t it? Creative though I must say. It shows how there are no boundaries in art.  The artist said she wanted to make her piece masculine and by using aluminum and condemns she was able to do that.

I really liked that this museum was small. It was nice because I wasn’t overwhelmed with a bunch of different exhibits and I was able to see almost everything there while enjoying myself. This is a museum that I will definitely come back to once new exhibitions are up.

-Eleni