Pages

Showing posts with label 10025. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 10025. Show all posts

Friday, August 10, 2012

Friday Night on the Upper West Side: Hudson Warehouse presents "Richard III" at the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument in Riverside Park

We waited too long, until the last performance last Sunday night, to see the Hudson Warehouse's production of The Rover, so we made certain to be at opening night for the company's spectacular debut of a stirring, bloody Richard III, directed by Nicholas Martin-Smith, whose coherent, seamless melding of character and action give the complex historical drama a stunning depth of meaning.
Having seen a number of excellent Hudson Workshop shows over the last few years, we're always amazed at the high consistency maintained by producing artistic director Martin-Smith (who also played the blithely deluded Hastings tonight), assistant artistic director Susane Lee (who seems to be a master of details), and all the cast and crew, but Richard III is one of the best productions we've been privileged to enjoy.  This is Hudson Warehouse's ninth season, and they've been staging three shows each summer -- two Shakespeare plays in June and August, and another classic play in July -- more than any other of the many fine summer free outdoors troupes out there, and they're always a pleasure to watch.
One of those pleasures is repeatedly seeing the same talented actors in a variety of disparate roles, as in the kind of old-fashioned repertory company that we used to hear about when we were kids in the 60s.  To watch performers like Amanda Renee Baker, Nick DeVita, David Allison DeWitt, Valerie O'Hara and Margaret Catov in different plays makes one appreciate more how demanding the craft of the actor is.
Vince Phillip, so good as Petruchio in The Taming of the Shrew, here gives a controlled, subtle and chilling performance as Richard III.  It's interesting to see his Katherine from Shrew, Amanda Renee Baker, interact with him here as Lady Anne; the scene where Richard, ahem, woos her over her late husband's corpse is usually a highlight of this play, and it's done with style, wit and pathos in this production.
The first and only other time we've seen Richard III was on August 8, 1990.  We know that from our book Summer in New York, in which this diary entry appears:

Thursday, August 9, 1990
10 PM.  Yesterday at 5:30 PM, I decided to walk over to Central Park and see if I could get tickets for Richard III.  As it turned out, I could have arrived just before the show, but I didn’t mind waiting; instead of standing at the end of the line, I just sat on a bench finishing the Times and got up when they started giving out tickets.

I walked back home via Central Park West and 85th Street, and after a quick dinner, I returned, walking just as briskly. 

Shakespeare in the Park is always a treat, but after seeing Denzel Washington in Mo’ Better Blues and now Richard III, I think he’s an overrated actor.  He played Richard in a very traditional way – a hunchback, limp and all – and though the play’s performances were good (especially Mary Alice as old Queen Margaret), the staging wasn’t that interesting.

I liked the battle scenes, and of course, Richard’s seduction of Lady Anne over her father-in-law’s coffin, but my remembered knowledge of the War of the Roses is sketchy enough so that it took me too long to catch onto the dynastic maneuverings.
At this point we're a lot more savvy, having read the play several times more, so part of our enjoyment here came from that better understanding of the plot.  But we appreciated Vince Phillip's interpretation of the protagonist: Richard comes on as suave and all smiles, and they manage to appear sincere at first, and he remains amiable and ingratiating for a surprisingly long time before darkening, and with each triumph, becoming more and more sinister.
This is the bloodiest production we've seen from Hudson Warehouse, and the blood may be a little thin but it spurts out shockingly and forcefully enough that it made us cringe.  The machinations of the royals and nobles and their minions here play out like a good Sopranos episode.  Margaret Catov plays a sprightly Queen Margaret, whose craziness and revenge fantasies (or prophecies) seem to make her more agile and energetic than anyone else, and a nice contrast to the physically slow-moving Richard III.
The other women in the cast also give standout performances.  As Queen Elizabeth, Roxann Kraemer, who we saw as Arkadina in last season's The Seagull, maintains a core of dignity and strength even in her plotting, rage, and terrible grief.  Valerie O'Hara is a doughty Duchess of York, never letting go of her usual grip of her handbag, very reminiscent of the late Queen Mother Elizabeth in her later years.
The scene where she gives her youngest grandson, the Duke of York (played by a bratty, charming Matt Ebling) two lollipops to suck on is priceless.  And when a lollipop appears late in the play, sucked on by the psychotic James Tyrrel (a terrifying, charismatic Myles Kenyon Rowland) after he's delighted in the murder of the boy and his brother, who  stand in their uncle Richard's way towards the throne, the result is devastating.
There are too many wonderful performances to name, but we especially liked R. Scott Williams' bewildered Duke of Clarence, and even more, his flouncy Lord Mayor of London); Nick DeVita as the accommodating Catesby, who seems to know that with a boss like Richard, it's best to look busy and keep moving fast at all times; the pedantic, fussy Lord Rivers played by Jonathan William Minton;
Thomas J. Kane as the rather enigmatic King Edward IV, who has a wonderful turn in his wheelchair; Bruce Barton as an unctuous Archbishop; David Allison DeWitt, as the bland, not-so-loyal commanding general Stanley; and George K. Wells, who emerges from the margins to become a forceful, charismatic and powerful Earl of Richmond, who will dispatch the ultimately undone Richard ("My kingdom for a horse!" is pathetically hollow indeed), and end the play as King Henry VII, who unites the Houses of Lancaster and York, ends the long War of the Roses and begins the Tudor dynasty.
The play must have been satisfying to Queen Elizabeth and her supporters, of course, in making her family's rise to the throne both legitimate and necessary as Shakespeare hinted that the Tudors were divinely sanctioned to rid England of Richard's evil and all the scheming and killing (which, in historical truth, he was just but another player in).
But it can be read in a variety of ways, and the current Hudson Warehouse production, playing this weekend for the next three weeks, provides a lot of food for thought -- on such subjects as the abuse of powerless women, the sanctimony behind establishment religion, the kind of political schemer who will say and do anything to achieve power -- and generally, about the meaning and relevance of Richard III.  We're grateful we were first-nighters.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Thursday Night on the Upper West Side: Hudson Warehouse presents "The Taming of the Shrew" at the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument


Everything seemed to work perfectly tonight in the Hudson Warehouse's blithe, colorful presentation of The Taming of the Shrew at the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument, not least the magic which kept the ominous clouds and claps of thunder at bay for the entire performance, with not a drop of rain falling on the parade of clowns, self-admitted or not, who populate Shakespeare's battle-of-the-sexes frolic.

This was the sixth Hudson Warehouse performance we've seen in the past three years, and the company's work is consistently excellent. It's interesting for us as a part of the audience to see actors multiple times in very different roles, inhabiting disparate characters onstage.

Our own "acting" experience is limited to a 1966 summer class at the Little Theatre School on Flatbush and Caton Avenues in Brooklyn (several years ago, our boyfriend in Miami discovered that our teacher, Joanie Edwards, is still teaching!), two senior-year semesters of Advanced Drama at Midwood High School in 1967-68 with Harris Sarney (later, longtime principal of Bayside High School), and an Acting class with Catherine Myers at Brooklyn College in 1970. So we are amazed at the range of the actors in the Hudson Warehouse company.

The Taming of the Shrew is not one of the masterpieces in Shakespeare's canon, with a lot of one-note characters, and the last time we saw the play, we detailed our own and others' problems with this comedy of good and bad manners. But it also can be very entertaining when done right, as in this rewarding production.

The Taming of the Shrew is a simple-to-understand farce and there's a lot of rollicking slapstick comedy with a number of clownish characters. But it's the conception of the production and the quality of the actors that can make or break the show, and the Hudson Warehouse has made this workhorse of a farce seem truly fresh, buoyant, and absorbing.

The director, Jesse Michael Mothershed, wisely dumped the prologue, and has set the play in what seems somewhere between the 1930s and early 1950s, judging by the costumes (terrific designs by Emily Rose Parman).

The pacing is fast, and the rapid-fire verbal fireworks and the knockabout physical comedy keep the play moving.

Vince Phillip as Petruchio is no dreamboat, but his virile arrogance and obvious immediate romantic feelings for the obdurate "cursed Kate" (played with panche by Amanda Renee Baker, whom we saw last month as Masha in The Seagull). Apart from all the fun, for us the pivotal moment in this production was when Katherine and Petruchio first set eyes on one another.

The chemistry is immediate and stuns both of them, and from that moment, you never doubt that whatever the intense ferocity of their battles, this is a couple who are deeply attracted to one another sexually and more. At least to the audience, it's obvious that Petruchio, to his surprise, actually loves Katherine.

Kate and Petruchio clearly admire one another's bluntness, and during the "taming" process, as the slinky, haughty, handsome Kate is reduced to a bedraggled mess, Petruchio never seems all that cruel; it's clear to us, and probably to Kate, that his bad temper is somewhat feigned and that his solicitousness toward his bride prevents him from crossing the line, even as he denies her more than a spoonful of food and makes maddening, contradictory demands of her.

The play's buffoons are some of the best we've seen. There are moments when the mercurial, clownish physical antics and alternating exasperation and resentful spite of Petruchio's servant Grumio threatens to run away with the show due to Robert Colpitts' limber, hilarious performance: he seems to have eight legs like a spider, only they're going in all directions at once.

Nathan Oesterle's comic flamboyance as a fussy Biondello gives another, more cerebral and less slapstick, level to the clowning,

as do Nick DeVita as Tranio, impersonating his master with insouciance and intelligence, and Roger Dale Stude as the hapless schlemiel Hortensio. (Both actors were excellent last month in The Seagull.)

As the ingenue couple whose subplot drives much of play's clowning apart from Petruchio and Kate, Sydney Stanton made a fetching, giggly and somewhat mischievous Bianca, and Chris Behan as Lucentio was likable, devoted and shrewd. Their chemistry was evident, too, though it's of a different nature altogether than that of Bianca's older sister and her seemingly tyrannical husband.

David Palmer Brown never ceases to amaze us. This is the fifth time we've seen him in a Hudson Warehouse production, and his chameleon-like ability to thoroughly play such different characters seems remarkable. Here he's a hearty if somewhat befuddled Baptista.

Demetri Bonaros gets a lot of laughs as the creaky old codger, Gremio; like the other performers, his acting is never coy or self-conscious, as it easily could be in a role that lends itself too easily to easy laughs. Throughout the play, the laughs, and there are a lot, are earned.

But it's not all knockabout comedy; there's a nice underlying mood of sweetness inhabiting Padua. This is a play without villains, and everyone, including the deceivers -- and that's just about everyone -- seems to have a big heart.

Sarah Doudna effectively plays both the sneering Widow and the Tailor; David Allison DeWitt was funny as a fusty Pedant; and Charles Baker makes a late appearance, playing Vincentio with a slightly faded sense of authority. There's an autumnal feel as the play's various subplots move toward resolution, and beneath all the hijinks, you see real love in all its disguises.

As we said, at times during the last hour, it seemed as if we all, actors, those behind the scenes at Hudson Warehouse, and the audience on the steps of the monument's north portico, would all suddenly be drenched in a tremendous downpour. That the rain held off until the performance reached its satisfying conclusion seemed something of a miracle. We're grateful it did, and to everyone connected with this valuable theater company and its work.