FINALLY

The musical adaptation of the movie-musical Newsies is coming to Broadway! Finally!

It premiered earlier this year in a theater in New Jersey and according to this article it'll be on Broadway starting in March.  Newsies is one of my all-time favorite films, and the first that I ever went fan-crazy for.  I watched it for the first time in the summer before my junior year of high school and I would watch this movie every day-- or, at least, watch all the musical numbers.  For "fun" I wrote an essay on why this should be made into a live-action stage version, and it's almost as if all the chanting and spells worked! (Just kidding.)  But seriously, this news is the best birthday/Christmas present I could get.

This one time during a show...

There is no such thing as a perfect show.  Whether the oops happens on stage, behind it, or in the pit, it just happens.  Such is life.

One time, in the sixth show of a ten-show run, one of the stage hands or stage managers was absent, and the conductor told us in the pit orchestra that one of the transitions might take some extra time and that we'd have to repeat short scene change music.  So, when the time came, we all repeated the sequence.  After playing it twice the conductor made small circles in the air with his hand to indicated to keep playing.  And so we did.  For maybe 2 minutes, repeating the scene change music about 20 times.

This scene change music was obnoxiously cheery, and at first I couldn't stop giggling at the fact that we were playing it over and over again.  Eventually my midsection was sore from trying to stifle myself and I started to get concerned: what was happening backstage that was causing this delay? The audience, luckily, overcame its initial confusion and started to clap along to the music as it continued on and on...and when the lights finally were raised to reveal the new set, they applauded and cheered (with joy? with relief?).  The actor who walked onto that scene ad libbed the line, "It's funny, I've had this song stuck in my head...".  I don't know whose burst of laughter was greater, the audience's or the pit orchestra's.  It made us feel relieved and gave us a chance to make some audible noise that came from ourselves and not our instruments.

We learned during intermission that, in addition to being a man down, a piece of the scenery got stuck or hooked to one of the fly's that was being lifted up, and the delay was mostly due to trying not to have one or the other fly come crashing down onto the stage.  Eventually gravity helped to wiggle the stuck piece off and bring down the correct scenery for the next scene.

Most of the time the mistake comes in the form of a missed cue or forgotten line or mic issue, and these mistakes happen so frequently as to be almost unremarkable, forgettable.  But this is one instance I will never forget.

Newsies!

Newsies came out in the early nineties and was a box office flop a placed a moratorium on live-action Disney musicals for almost two decades.  Curiously enough, director Kenny Ortega was the one responsible for this movie and the seminal Disney Channel hit that made musicals "cool" (read: profitable) again.  Yes, I'm referring to the High School Musical trilogy, which bears the singular accomplishment of having its first two movies broadcast on television and then make the leap to the big screen with the release of the third and final film (High School Musical 3: Senior Year) in theaters.

I love Newsies.  I didn't see it as a kid but I've probably seen it enough times to make up for the time that I never saw the move, let alone know that it existed.  This movie is responsible for:
1) reigniting my love of theater
2) getting me to really love movies and movie trivia
3) my slight obsession with Christian Bale
(I'm not a fan of the trailer but it's the only one I could find)


Newsies was never converted into a live theater version in the way of Beauty and the Beast or The Lion King but that didn't stop hundreds of schools and musical camps from putting on shows of this story.  This week the official Alan Menken-approved musical production of Newsies will be presented to the world, and from the few clips I've found of it I am optimistic and excited to see how it goes and gets reviewed.  Understandably there are some changes to the plot, characters, songs, but the heart of the story seems intact.  Unlike the two aforementioned film-to-theater adaptations, this production isn't set to show on Broadway but in a theater in New Jersey.  Oh, if only I muster the time and money to go down and see this production...

That's show biz for you

Every few shows there's a man who sits near close to the stage and laughs a booming laugh.  Like Jabba the Hutt but genuine and not menacing.  Whatever's happening on stage might not be funny, but just hearing that genuine big-bellied laugh makes me laugh reflexively.  Even when I've heard the same joke told for the 27th time.  And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the magic of show biz for you.

Opening Night

The opening night show is almost never the best show-- not to say it's the worst of a shows run, but it's not usually the one held in apotheosis.  Ah, but opening night is still (dare I say it) magical in its own right. Why? Well, every show is one that no one else has seen before, but the first one is the first time that anyone has seen that particular show-- ever.  And even a bad (unresponsive) audience brings something new to how everyone involved in the production goes about the show.  From having read and heard the script over and over you know where audiences are supposed to laugh and it's soo rewarding when they actually do laugh (and slightly devastating/disheartening when they don't).  But sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll get a surprise and get 'em to react to something that you didn't know was supposed to be funny or sad or surprising or unsettling.  And sometimes unexpected occurances come in the form of technical difficulties and not-yet-ironed-out problems with sound systems, lights, actor cues, etc.  But it's okay, because everyone is running on Opening Night nervous optimism, it'll be okay, it's just the first show, things'll get better!

Deserted island picks

My picks for what six ______ I'd bring with me on a deserted island:

Movies
- Little Women (1994)
- Shaun of the Dead (2004)
- La Belle et la Bête (1946)
- Adam's Rib (1949)
- Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (1980)
- Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008)

Books
- The Complete Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
- War and Peace by Fyodor Dostoevsky
- The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
- The Bible (my Korean-English version)
- Shadow of the Hegemon by Orson Scott Card
- Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Albums
- Inglourious Basterds soundtrack
- Dvorâk's "New World Symphony" (any orchestra)
- The Best of Ella Fitzgerald or Ella Fitzgerald sings Gershwin Songbook
- Yo-yo Ma's Obrigado Brazil
- La Boheme soundtrack
- One of those meditation CDs with sounds like gongs or digeridoos, stuff like that

Other/Misc./"Necessities"
- soap
- toilet paper
- pens
- notebooks
- something to make/collect potable water
- bug repellant

What's in a surname?

If Juliet and Romeo ultimately got together at the end of the play, she would've taken her husband's name and become a Montague.  Juliet Montague, that is, which I think sounds better than Juliet Capulet.  Mmh, it's fun that her first and last names have the same number of syllables, same kind of stress (JOO-lee-et CAP-you-let), and both end in "-et".  But I think it sounds kind of boring, and if I were her I'd want to change my last name.  What does "Capulet" even mean? Don't answer that, I don't want to get off topic just yet.

If I ever get married I hope to get a hyphenated last name.  It's not uncommon in this day and age for women to keep their last names and I say good for them.  I don't have anything against them, or against a woman who chooses to adopt her husband's name.  But for me I'd like to have a hyphenated last name to adopt my spouse's name; if I get married I probably will have a kid/kids and would like them to have the same surname as me and my husband.  It has yet to be determined in what order our names would be; if his surname starts with the same letter or sound as the last letter of mine I'd want my name to be first, and vice versa.

I happen to like my last name, but I know people who don't.  I had one professor who was a feminist but took on her husband's name because she didn't like her own.  Her last name meant "salesman" or "peddler" or something like that in her native language, despite the fact that no one in her father's family line had ever had that profession, and she was never really fond of that fact.

Forgot to include this in yesterday's post

I think that a big part of my fascination with "Beauty and the Beast" stories has to do with a segment I saw on Reading Rainbow when I was a child.

Butterfly in the sky... c'mon, you know you want to sing along:

For all the various clips of this show that are out there I can't seem to find one of the segment that I remember.  I've even looked at the episode list for all the seasons and can't find one that matches what I saw.  But I'm pretty sure that I saw it on Reading Rainbow because when I was that child age I almost exclusively watched PBS.  Anyway, the clip that I remember was from the end of a ballet version of "Beauty and the Beast".  It was incredibly affecting and has haunted me for all these years.  The dance was beautifully choreographed, I remember thinking to myself but not in those exact words, but what was the most striking was the Beast costume and how the heroine literally transformed him.  The danseur's costume was made of a stiff chiffon-like material, like very fine netting, and it covered his head and a bit of his chest; also he wore gloves made of the same material, and these gave him claws through which his hands could still be seen.  He lay mostly supine while she slowly removed these pieces to reveal his true visage, the man underneath the beast exterior.  And then they both got up and danced.

There are a lot of random things that I remember from childhood-- really random things, events that I don't deem to be of much or any importance.  But I remember this scene from this ballet which I am positive actually existed; though I was an imaginative little kid I wouldn't have been able to make this up at that age.  This might be the first version of "Beauty and the Beast" I ever saw, and certainly one of the first ballets I ever saw, albeit one that was filmed for a television audience of early readers.  Ah, someday I'll find that episode in which this clip was shown! Someday!

Some of my favorite things

The original:

My version (just pretend that it works with the music and meter):

Warm clean clothing straight from the dryer
Snow days and hot cocoa for when I feel tired
The bright crunchy leaves that fall always brings
These are a few of my favorite things

The velvety smell of the earth after rain
Closing my eyes while listening to Coltrane
Getting a new set of violin strings
These are a few of my favorite things

When mosquitos bite
When someone's words sting
When I'm feeling bad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I can feel less sad

Julian Matthias and I: Withdrawal?

I've come fresh out of a dress rehearsal but I'm already thinking about withdrawal.  It's not that I want to withdraw from the show, but that I'm preemptively feeling for the actors and the production people involved.  I don't know how long they've been working on this production-- for weeks at least, maybe a month or two.  This week has probably been the most joyous and stressful, since this Friday marks the very first show.  All that hard work and rehearsing will be on display and it's showtime, quite literally.  And before we all know it we'll be performing the last show, and then it'll be over.  There will be no more "next rehearsal" or "next show" to make it better or amend mistakes or relive the thrill of receiving applause after that particularly exhausting yet thrilling show-stopping number.  It's a relief once it's all over, but then immediately there's also a feeling of nostalgia and mourning, almost, that it's all over and it's gone, it will never happen quite that way again. 

I know "nostalgia" is usually used in reference to childhood memories; I don't know what the prefix "nost-" means, but "-algia" refers to pain-- think myalgia (pain in muscles) or neuralgia (nerve pain).  Nostalgia means "to look back with pain", and I think that it's very fitting for the feeling of After The Show's Over.  Withdrawal, too, feels like an apt description, as theatre is like a drug: there are very high ephemeral highs, and there are very stressful, dark lows when everything is going wrong and it doesn't seem like there's a chance that the show will go on or be presentable in any way.  There's a lot of sturm and drang that goes into putting on a show, but the people involved think that it's all worth it in the end, that all the energy and money and emotion that goes into it is of value, just as a junkie will sell everything s/he owns to get just one more hit.

Ach, I didn't intend for this post to be so depressing!  It's just that I'm anticipating this feeling for others.  As a pit orchestra musician I have probably the least amount of involvement for someone involved in the production.  I just have to show up and play, and it's someone else's problem if the sound doesn't work or the music cues don't match up.  I'm heard but not seen, and I like it that way.  But I've been on the other side of the stage, I've been a performer on stage in a theatrical production before, and I wish nothing but the best for everyone else who's worked literally day and night on this production.  The dress rehearsal was fraught with technical difficulties, but I stand by the superstition that if a dress rehearsal goes badly the actual run of the show will go well.

Hugh Jackman in the morning

Me pregunta porqúe? Vale, explicaciones:
1) El sol brilló cuando me levanté este mañana, y esto es lo que sentaba
2) Tocaré este obra de teatro musical en unos semanas y he escuchándo la musica
3) ­Porque no? Busco cualquier razon para ver y escuchar este actor cantando y bailando.

Possibly the first live show I ever saw



image source

I remember my first and only theatre-in-the-round performance. It was about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad. I think it was 2nd grade. It was an exciting production. For the scenes of stealing away into the night, the whole theatre was darkened to reveal hundreds of tiny lights all around the ceiling, with certain stars burning more brightly to indicate the Drinking Gourd constellation. Because it was a circular stage, with audience members seated all around, the actors were constantly moving around so that no one would be stuck seeing an actor's back for an extended period.  I know this because I took an intro. to theater class; at the time it all flowed very organically, very naturally.  There's a lot of tension within the whole plot of slaves on the run and catcher on their trail, and the constant motion of the actors added even more tension to the scenes.  Hmm, I try to think back and try to pick up more details, but that's all I remember: the perpetually moving actors, the dark theater with the twinkling lights, the feeling of wonder at the real-life story and of the way it was told in that live, performing arts setting.

Dropping some eaves

I took a particularly long bus trip recently, and in the row diagonally across from mine two strangers engaged in a very candid conversation.  I have no idea how their conversation started-- probably sometime during the wait in line for the delayed bus-- but the bulk of it was had on the bus.  One was a mother of two in her 50s, the other a 20-year-old man.  They were the only ones talking in the bus, so it wasn't difficult to hear what they said.

And what they had to say!  I basically learned both of their life stories, a SparkNotes version, if you will.  The mother was visiting one of her sons, who was determined to see three shows with her that weekend.  I didn't catch her career, but her work paid for her to have an iPad (gorgeous, wonderful piece of equipment, that), which she brought with her for the trip.  In addition to that also owned an iPhone, a Kindle and a laptop.  She had some kind of connection with someone who worked in the theatre industry, which was fortuitous for the young man sitting next to her.  He had written a musical adaptation of a famous children's book and was in the midst of casting actors and entering the production for a theatre festival.  They exchanged personal information and while on the bus (thank you, technology) they Friended each other on Facebook so that they could continue communication after the bus ride was over.  Of all places...it really is a marvel, the randomness of life and the people you meet, whether purposefully or unintentionally, whether you've know them for 10 years or 10 minutes.

Wings

In my limited experience in the world of ballet, the wings of a stage was where dancers were still just regular people who happened to be dressed in snazzy costumes.  Not all of them would walk gracefully; when in pointe shoes it's hard to walk with a natural gait so ballerinas have to compromise by walking duck-like-- think "walking with flippers" but not as goofy. Some would sit right up against the panels that divided up the space in the wings (I know there's a proper, technical stage term for these, I just can't think of it at the moment) and sit or stretch or squirt water into their mouths (so as not to mess up any lip products).  There's no need to whisper in the wings because the music from the pit is usually loud enough to cover up noise, but everyone still uses his/her indoor voice to communicate.  And, as shown in movies such as Phantom of the Opera and Black Swan, there is a box of powdery rosin on either side of the stage for a ballerina to rub her shoes into, to give some traction and prevent slipping on stage.

In my slightly less limited experience in working backstage in a theatrical production, the wings are much more quiet, but not necessarily less calm.  Actors are in various states of being in character; some maintain their character's way of walking and talking, others completely revert back to their typical selves.  There's a lot more nonverbal and quiet communication, because even if a scene has background music the audience usually would still be able to hear people talking in the wings.  People stretch and move around as silently as possible, to stay loose and/or expend any extraneous energy. 

Both these scenarios are also infiltrated by the ninja-like stagehands, working to be seen and heard as little as possible and be efficient to the point of being overlooked.  I like how the wings are filled with so much action to the point that what happens there could be a show itself, nevermind whatever's happening on stage.  Whenever I see a stage production I can't help but wonder what's going on in the wings, what mishaps and close calls were had there.  I like the immediacy of working there, the slight unsung-hero aspect of the sturm und drang of what happens just off stage so that whatever's happening on stage unfolds seamlessly.  Performers spend days, weeks, months anticipating each performance, whether it's a one-night deal or multi-week run, and the wings are the last place-- the final safe space-- before proceeding on past Go and collecting $200 and transforming into whatever stage persona she/he has prepared to inhabit.

Hooray for the Performing Arts!

A month ago I took someone to go see "The Nutcracker". Back when we did ballet we were both in the same production and it was fun to relive those times through the costumes and music. All the choreography was different but just as exciting and breathtaking. The ballerina who performed as the Dew Drop Fairy was particularly memorable and ebullient. Everyone usually remembers the Sugar Plum Fairy or the Snow Queen because they have more time on stage, but the Dew Drop Fairy for that day was my hands-down favorite dancer of that performance.

Seeing that ballet reminded me of why I love the performing arts. Whether it's opening night or the 16th performance out of 20, every performance is something special and different and has never been seen before. I love that energy that goes back and forth between performers and the audience, and the moments where I forget where I am because I'm so absorbed in what's happening on stage. One of my other resolutions for this years is to see more shows and the one chance I had this month didn't work out, but whether I have to sign up to usher or try my luck with student rush tickets I'm determined to see a show next month.

(Image Source)