#the broad stage

[larrywilmore]

Looking forward to interviewing the amazing Fran Lebowitz again! Coming up May 1st at The Broad Stage in Santa Monica.

[gabrielkahane]

Tickets are on sale for all these dates! 

[furtherfurther]

Preservation Hall in LA

[anieastonbaker]

Case_Case

Last night I took my mom to see an adaptation of two Chekhov short stories, Man in a Case and About Love at The Broad Stage featuring Mikhail Baryshnikov(!) Afterwards, I believe it was the stage director, (I missed his title and name because I had gone to the bathroom and was then quarantined to the balcony until the show was over) gave us some background on Chekhov and the trilogy of short stories that he wrote between 1898 and 1904 that inspired this adaptation and how Baryshnikov had been the fountainhead of this performance because he was so drawn to the themes of his writing. Stage Director asked those members of the audience who had stayed after (J.K. Simmons and his pork pie hat no longer included) what we thought the "case" in Man In A Case actually was. I loved that. I love Q&A's and I'd never before been to a post-conversation where the audience was asked a question. Oh it made me so happy. My heart started beating like it does every time I know I have something to say in front of a crowd and I didn't have any beta blockers with me but I did tell myself that I was going to speak anyway so I raised my hand, intentionally late in the conversation, so that he would run out of time before he looked my way, and he did, but my heart is still beating so I'll say it all here:

Quick background: Man In A Case is about a fearful Greek schoolmaster named Byelikov whose life and recent death is being ruminated upon by a former schoolmaster colleague, Burkin, and his veterinary friend, Ivan Ivanovich, when they begin discussing the subject of man's tendency toward solitude. 

"What is there wonderful in that!" said Burkin. "There are plenty of people in the world, solitary by temperament, who try to retreat into their shell like a hermit crab or a snail. Perhaps it is an instance of atavism, a return to the period when the ancestor of man was not yet a social animal and lived alone in his den, or perhaps it is only one of the diversities of human character -- who knows?"

Everything about Byelikov is contained, protected, and locked in a case, metaphorically or literally: His bed, his knife, his umbrella, his feet (eternal galoshes), his body (hats, coats), his thoughts, his emotions, his connection to the softer reality of the present, his desires...

I mean, very blatantly, the case was fear and self-protection, but the origin of the fear was not made clear by Chekhov. Byelikov seemed to me to be a man who had learned to only take stock of the darkness; he compiled an understanding of the present based only on his memories of the bleak aspects of existence, of subjugation that occurs within species', of harm, of embarrassment, of distress. I didn't get the impression that he suffered a horrifying tragedy or that he had one specific moment which made him abruptly retreat from seeking joy, narrowing the scope of his vision to only register danger and forbiddance. It seemed like it was a slow build for him, a frightful reality built over time, adding another deadbolt to his door each time he found more evidence to support his outlook; a case built on the confirmation bias and his theory being: To remain unguarded is to invite harm. 

I felt way too connected with Baryshnikov's portrayal of Byelikov, and that was before he lowered his glasses and made lingering eye contact with me in the front row as he was scouring the audience in search of danger. I looked into his eyes and thought, okay, I get it, there is a big part of me that is this man. My mom leaned over and said, "He was looking at you." "Yeah," I said, "I know."

There was this moment in the final scene after Byelikov's death, when Burkin found him in his bed, picked up a hard leather umbrella case that became an extension of his identity because he had carried it with him everywhere in all types of weather, walked out of his room, opened it up and slowly slid the umbrella out from the top, where everything came together for me. I think because the umbrella case was long and dark and cylindrical and firm with a handle he used to sling it over his shoulder as his last piece of armor-against-the-elements on his way out the door, when Birkin reached inside, I partly expected him to pull out a musket, or something. When it was, in fact, just an umbrella, I felt tremendous tenderness for Byelikov, when we all silently saw that inside of his large, careful-crafted, hard leather case, was this delicate object of practical preparation. We all respect practical preparation; no one pities a man for carrying an umbrella. 

The umbrella signified, to me, the beginnings of Byelikov's attempts at preparation, which eventually became a full blown personal prison over time. If we're talking about the umbrella literally, let's say it rained unexpectedly one day and he ruined his very favorite shoes, shoes that were basically an extension of him. He tried to replace the shoes, but they didn't make that style anymore, so he settled for a less desirable alternative. Then, he made sure to buy an umbrella and to keep it with him in case of more unexpected rain. Maybe the umbrella became tattered from unnecessary wear, and was then too bent to open when the water fell again, but he ran inside, narrowly avoiding water damage. So then he got that umbrella repaired because maybe it was a gift from someone who loved him and it was nice and light and it was black like he liked and it was his first and only umbrella ever, and after the repair he took steps to protect it because if it were damaged again, and he was too far from shelter, he risked losing another pair of shoes and his only umbrella. When the rain came again, he used his newly encased and well-kempt umbrella and finally felt like he'd done everything correctly, but no, he walked into a puddle and ruined a second pair of shoes, that were never as good as the first ones, which he still missed and thought about for a second every time he looked down at the newer pair that he spent way too much money on, which were now, just as ruined as the first. He is to blame now because he's trying to keep and the loss still happens. There's got to be more that he could have be doing; he decides he'll opt for galoshes. 

I think Byelikov's initial endeavor was to simply be wise and prepare, but very quickly, less than successful attempts at preparation against some form of harm constructed an entire existence powered by protection from not only the memory of the unpleasant feelings associated with the initial loss, but now the unpleasant feelings of failure and disappointment. I think this is the trajectory for a lot of us, a lot of the time. It has been the trajectory for me. There is a naiveté within me so I don't bring an umbrella and my very favorite shoes get ruined and that is awful but I know I didn't actually do anything to try to prevent it so from now on, I'll just try to prevent it. But the loss happens again because loss just happens, and there might not be anybody around to explain that to me when I need to understand it, so now each new loss feels like a lot like fault so it hurts more and more and I keep trying newer and better and keener ways to Protect and I'm foiled again and I feel so weak and eventually I've built this C A S E to protect the thing that I carry to protect me and I take it with me everywhere, and it's unyielding and it's cumbersome and I keep accidentally knocking it into the heads of short children, but it's a part of me now because I've learned my lesson so many times and I'm not going to have to learn that lesson again because I'm smarter and I'll continue to get even smarter because I'll protect or conceal or discard all together the things that could ever be damaged by water and I've even gone out and found myself a "C A S E  GUY" whose number I keep on a card in my pocket who'll make me a model from metal if I ever feel like I need it, like in the event of the "big one" that people keep saying is coming.

And right up until I think that might happen, I'll carry my Byelikov case, specially made of firm chamois leather, slung over the right side of my back, with an equally firm leather strap, and inside it, I have my umbrella.

[darrensunderwear]

DOES ANYBODY HAVE ANY DOWNLOADABLE MP3'S FROM DARREN'S PERFORMANCES AT THE BROAD STAGE PSARTS THING?

PLEAAAAAAAAAAASE

[societynewsla-blog]

Helen Hunt's proves that Stage Managing can be woman's work

After her Opening Night performance on The Broad Stage production of "Our Town," as the first woman ever to play the Stage Manager, Helen Hunt said she was delighted to give another dimension to the role.

At the Opening Night party, playwright Thornton Wilder’s nephew, Tappan Wilder, said he was surprised that no one had previously thought of a woman for the position. “It seems such a natural choice,” he said.

Yes that's true - but especially so, if that woman is the talented, Oscar, Emmy and Golden Globe winning Helen Hunt.

Theater-goers can still see the acclaimed new production by David Cromer until Feb. 12. For more details of the Our Town Opening Night party, see Society News LA. (Photo of Helen Hunt, right, with John Hawkes of "Winter's Bone" and Tecia Esposito by Amy Grave.)

[neontommyaande]

Theater Review: "Our Town" at the Broad Stage

Helen Hunt commands the stage in this production of Thornton Wilder's classic play.