Answer to The Question I Was Never Asked

It's been more than a year now since I stopped writing Stage Matters, and about a year since I collected past columns and wrote retrospective introductions for this site.

It seems more like ten.  A certain knot of anxiety is not even a memory.  What anxiety remains is based on the energies I spent over a decade on this endeavor, and as a consequence what I didn't do.  And what in that time apparently went away.

I had an explanation for my approach to Stage Matters that I don't think I ever presented.  I recall that I thought it was most appropriate as an answer to the question that was never asked.  For in all those years, I never once was interviewed (on radio for example) or asked to speak or participate in any sort of forum or discussion on the North Coast. (The sole exception was a class for students in theatre criticism held by an intercollegiate organization--the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival.)  Perhaps that's a comment on the importance of theatre or theatre reviewing here, or perhaps just on me.  Or likely both.

So at least for the record, here it is.

Draw a circle representing everyone involved in North Coast theatre, both audiences and participants.

Draw another circle representing the readers of the newspaper.

There will be a place where the two circles intersect: denoting that subset of people who are both involved in theatre and read the newspaper.

How large or small that subset might be is open to debate.  But by necessity I wrote my theatre column for the people constituting the circle representing the newspaper's readership, with particular but not exclusive attention to the readers represented by the area where the two circles intersect: people interested in theatre who read the newspaper.

This is almost self-evident but a point that many people miss, especially theatre people.  But it should be especially clear to them.  They perform for the audience that comes to the theatre.  I performed for the readers who came to the newspaper.

In practice that meant writing to inform and entertain readers, most of whom had not seen a given production, and many who never would see it, including those who did not go to theatre at all.

People read reviews of books they will never read.  Probably less often, people read reviews of movies they won't immediately see.  I suspect for theatre, it's somewhere in between, but I did believe that I wrote also for people who might be enticed to read about theatre, but never or very seldom actually saw theatre.

I did hope that my writing would also nudge them towards seeing theatre, and I sometimes wrote with that advocacy as a chief goal of a particular column.

Some periodical writers come to see themselves as representing their theatrical community.  Spending so much time going to theatre, and talking to participants about theatre, a reviewer or columnist inevitably develops relationships, and sometimes friendships.  Some pursue these more than others, and inevitably feel responsible to them. It's a particular temptation for those who were or are participants themselves.

Tom Stoppard expressed this conundrum in an early interview.  He had been a newspaper theatre reviewer before becoming an established playwright.  In discussing his wonderful farce The Real Inspector Hound (which features two theatre critics) with New York Times writer Mel Gussow, he noted about his reviewing days: "I never had the moral character to pan a friend.  I'll rephrase that. I had the moral character never to pan a friend."

Priorities, moral and otherwise, come into play on a case by case basis, I suppose, especially when it comes to friends.  Some people go into criticism with an ideological agenda, and some because they enjoy saying nasty things.  I was neither of those.  A certain tact and delicacy is necessary because real people, their hard work and their feelings, are involved.

But the primary role is journalist, and the primary responsibility is to the profession of journalism (such as it is) and to the readers (whoever they are.)  The theatre community is necessarily of secondary priority, though my goal was to write for that subset as part of the readership.

What this means is various.  Some is regular practice, like making sure the name of the play, the theatre where it is presented and whether it is being presented at the time of publication, are all in the opening paragraph.  (Apparently not everyone holds to this standard.)

 But some of what it means is expressed in judgments particular to each case.  How much of the play's plot to describe, for the benefit of readers but not to the detriment of future playgoers?  Generally more description of the production than judgment is the goal.  Background to the play, the playwright, other productions can be of interest to all readers, even if participants in that particular show may be irked at the space wasted not writing about them.

Finally there was the problem of writing about theatre in a place with limited resources, where few participants are professionals, where the theatres themselves are physically difficult--several hereabouts cause reactions to mold etc. among members of their audiences--and most often with inadequate restroom facilities, all adding up to a less than professional impression.  Is criticism even appropriate for something pretending not to be basically amateur or academic?

That, plus my own discomfort with publishing what is essentially a judgment based on one particular experience on one particular night (for I agree with Stoppard that the job is to communicate that particular experience) was a factor in making Stage Matters a column rather than all reviews.  The balance got thrown off when it was for a time the only venue for timely reviews of current productions, and then by a new editor,  but my intent was always to do previews, interviews and news. Given the amateur compensation, I didn't have time or the resources to do as much as I wanted.

Theatre of course can be done anywhere, and the back of a wagon has been its principal venue for much of its history.  But writing about theatre is much more awkward in a small place.  The great writers about theatre like Eric Bentley and Kenneth Tynan could also be participants (Bentley wrote and directed, Tynan chose plays for the National Theatre) but they had the scope and the room to do both. (Not that I was ever given the opportunity here, except a couple of times in very limited circumstances.)  There's something even a little ridiculous about being a theatre critic or reviewer here.

On the other hand, I never would have wanted to be, say, the lead reviewer for the New York Times.  I knew Frank Rich before he became that, and talked with him about it while he was doing it.  He was philosophical about the effects of his reviews, but the alleged power to close a show (which he disputed he really had, but others claimed his reviews did to such an extent that it became conventional wisdom) is not something I ever would have wanted.

The career that was closer to my comfort zone was that of Frank Rich's colleague, Mel Gussow.  He was the second-string critic for the Times for many years.  He didn't get the big Broadway shows.  He either wrote about off and off-off Broadway shows, or did features and interviews connected with some big productions.  He interviewed Tom Stoppard (that quote comes from one of his), Edward Albee, Pinter, Samuel Beckett and others, and published book-length collections of these interviews with several of them, over years and decades.  In the process he got to know them, and they got to know him.

He wrote for the Times for 35 years, and became a valued part of the international theatrical and literary communities. After his death in 2005 he was inducted into the American Theatre Hall of Fame.   It was a modest career and yet a capacious one, and I admire it.

Response

It's time for me to answer the comments of Janet Waddell on my review in the North Coast Journal of the Ferndale Rep production of Amadeus. Those comments appeared first here at this site, then on the North Coast Journal site, and this week in the print edition. Apparently as a matter of Journal policy, I am not given an opportunity to respond along with the letter itself.

First I'll reproduce her comments in full, as they appear here and on the Journal site. The editors evidently cleaned up the misspellings for the print edition:


It makes me sad to see actors who go to work, school, and travel on a shoe- string budget trying hard to contribute to high quality productions only to be upstaged by a mediocre review. Mr. Kowinski's review of Ferndale Rep's "Amedeus" was mainly devoted to a detailed account of Kowinski's discomforture and annoyance at having to drive to Ferndale to review a show. It makes one wonder why others can drive to Ashland to review plays with out a feeling of martyerdom.

Then Mr Kowinski felt the need to tell us that he had seen the show years earlier in London and therefore there were no longer any surprises. The on-going ontological debate (Salieri vs Mozart) has ended by local proclamation. Has the rest of the world been informed? Should the MLA Abstracts be revised?

Kowinski should devote more time to writing plays. I've been in one of his and his his skill is in writing more than reviewing.

Janet R. Waddell

Janet Waddell does not disclose that she acted in this production. My review doesn't mention her. She had a leading role in Doubt at North Coast Rep last spring, a performance I complimented in my review.

I want to respond to the factual claims only. Here's the first one: "Mr. Kowinski's review of Ferndale Rep's "Amedeus" was mainly devoted to a detailed account of Kowinski's discomforture and annoyance at having to drive to Ferndale to review a show."

Here in total is the portion of my review, in which I name the day I saw the play: "(That was on Sunday — and with a 90-minute round trip and a nearly three-hour play, it pretty much was Sunday.)" This parenthetical expression in a review of some 490 words is what she refers to as a "detailed account" that the review was "mainly devoted" to. Her description is longer than this sentence.

She devotes a paragraph of comment on this assertion: "Then Mr Kowinski felt the need to tell us that he had seen the show years earlier in London and therefore there were no longer any surprises."

Here is the relevant part of my review: "I saw the play in 1982 at Her Majesty’s Theatre in London, with original cast members Simon Callow and Felicity Kendal joined by Frank Finlay as Salieri. Such early productions and certainly the movie were memorable for their spectacle. The Ferndale Repertory production, entering its final weekend, does not have that luxury — even with Daniel Nyiri’s handsome set and Lori Knowles’ sumptuous costumes. But guided by visiting director Karma Ibsen, it has the virtue of being clear."

My judgment on the production was this: "This production provides an enjoyable community theater experience, with impressive presentations by Craig Benson, Kyle Ryan and the entire cast." I suggested that the play itself is mediocre.

She ends her letter with this: "Kowinski should devote more time to writing plays." On this we totally agree. She finishes with the opinion that "his skill is in writing more than reviewing." I can only hope this is true.

North Coast Theatre and Journalism

In my year end column, I mentioned the shrinking attention to theatre in local media. Some of it is the product of how the newspaper business is playing out locally. We had for awhile what was probably an artificial abundance, as two Eureka dailies were battling each other. So for a few years, a show could get as many as four or even five reviews, though three was more likely. That newspaper war, plus other economic and media factors, ended one of the dailies and wounded the other.

Then the Eureka Times Standard further wounded itself by turning over its weekly arts magazine to some rap-enthralled white kids who ignored local theatre almost totally. Community and university theatres that used to get Northern Lights covers for almost every production never got covers for anything again, and only sometimes got any kind of story inside. The daily outside the magazine ignored them as well.

After that experiment failed, the Times Standard abdicated local performing arts coverage altogether--a stunning act for the only daily newspaper in the area. They pushed off their weekly magazine to a supermarket giveaway, the Tri-City Weekly, which several years later still gets spotty circulation here in Arcata and I suspect elsewhere. It also has a peculiarly long lead time, which means that shows with a two week run may not get reviewed at all before the show is history.

Meanwhile, the Arcata Eye was forced by its economic plight to cut staff and pages. I can't remember a theatre review there in the past couple of years. While the Humboldt Beacon (now owned by the same company as owns the Times Standard and the Tri-City Weekly) has the biggest and best arts section of the three, it also has spotty circulation outside its main focus of southern Humboldt. My twice monthly (on average) Stage Matters column in the North Coast Journal is supplemented by occasional brief previews in the calendar section. But theatre is not much of a priority. Nor is my column, which seems to be the only regularly appearing column that the Journal doesn't promote.

Part of all this is probably the consultant-driven attitude that younger readers are the hope of the media, as opposed to older audiences who typically attend theatre. Advertisers like younger readers because they are more susceptible to their claims--for example, the idea that using a particular product might make them more attractive. Of course demographics suggests that older people are the ones who actually read newspapers, and that this is a pretty big group in Humboldt, but these tend to be overlooked if not ignored.

But to me the most disturbing aspect of this situation is the apparent dearth locally of young writers who can write about theatre, or any of the arts outside of popular music and maybe movies. I don't see the high school newspapers so maybe there's some hope there, but the HSU Lumberjack is appalling in this regard. A competently written arts article or review is so rare in that paper that I can't think of a single one in the past ten years. The Lumberjack pays little and usually no attention to the theatre and music events partly created by fellow students in the university which presumably is its focus. Its few attempts have been either embarrassingly inept or at best just substandard journalism, even in comparison with the rest of the newspaper.

I've made the argument in the past that ignoring these events is bad journalism because the Lumberjack fails to inform its student readers of events that they have already partly paid for (through the same activity fees that partially fund the Lumberjack), and many of which they can consequently attend for free. But after all these years I suspect it goes deeper. Does the HSU journalism program even attempt to teach arts reporting or criticism? If so, what does all this say about the effectiveness of that teaching?

Right now there are but two people in all of Humboldt County who write regularly about theatre. Beti Trauth, long a champion for local theatre, writes for the Tri-City Weekly and the Humboldt Beacon. I write for the Journal. Neither of us is a salaried full time staff writer. We're piece workers. I don't know for sure about Beti, but I don't get health care, and I don't even get mileage or expenses. There is to my knowledge only one radio show that interviews theatre artists regularly, and that's Artwaves on KHSU, hosted by Wendy Butler who used to write theatre reviews for the Beacon, and was the arts editor at the now defunct Eureka Reporter. When the three of us wise up and go, who will replace us? I would be happy to learn that I'm wrong.

Doubt: A Haunting Parable at NCRT

The following review was scheduled for my Stage Matters column in the North Coast Journal this week (April 1 issue.) While I was writing it this weekend, I was informed that it wouldn't run--apparently a space issue. When the paper comes out tomorrow, perhaps we'll know why.

Some version of this review will now appear in the Journal in the April 8 issue (I hope.) But given the short run of the play reviewed, I thought I could at least publish the review here, at the time it was supposed to appear.

Live theatre happens in a particular time in the real world. No one associated with the North Coast Repertory Theatre production of Doubt: A Parable—a 2004 play that concerns allegations of a priest’s sexual misconduct—could have known that it would open as the Catholic Church is facing accusations over its handling of child abuse by clergy---and this time the charges are so serious that some observers suggest it is the gravest crisis the Church hierarchy has faced in modern times.

Some of the cases in the news are from the 1960s, and this play is set in a Bronx parish in 1964. But even though it is pertinent in some respects, it will probably disappoint those looking for complete answers on this issue. As written by John Patrick Shanley, this play has some of the qualities of the topical debate plays that were popular in that era, like Inherit the Wind or Twelve Angry Men. But the word “parable” is in the title for a reason. The play concerns such philosophical issues as the nature of knowledge, doubt and certainty, and the turmoil in the human heart.

The Oscar-nominated 2008 movie version (which Shanley wrote and directed) added incidents and characters, as well as the specific atmosphere of the Bronx. This stage version however has only four characters—all adults-- and takes place in just a few locations.

The story pits Sister Aloysius, the stern veteran principal of St. Nicholas grade school, against Father Flynn, a progressive priest who advocates a gentler approach. Sister Aloysius suspects Father Flynn of improper behavior involving an eighth grade boy, who is also the only black child in the school. Sister James, whose observation sparked this suspicion, is a young nun caught in the middle—trying to live up to the senior nun’s standards, but sympathetic to the priest’s apparent openness and enthusiasm. The fourth character is the boy’s mother (Mrs. Muller), who adds more complications. Sister Aloysius makes her accusation, and the consequences comprise the rest of the play.

Since I attended Catholic schools in this era, taught by this same order of nuns (Sisters of Charity), certain details reminded me of what I’d forgotten I knew. The principal’s office at the center of William Nevins’ efficient set had the right photos on the wall—Popes John and Paul (Popes George and Ringo came later—ha ha, Catholic schoolboy humor), but the crucifix seemed way too small. I was unexpectedly scandalized when Sister Aloysius crossed her legs. The nuns in my school would have considered that provocative, almost lewd.

Janet Waddell as Sister Aloysius was convincingly scary but also complicated, and Josh Kelly as Father Flynn conveyed a more youthful spirit, but also a troubled nature. Wanda Stapp effectively portrayed Sister James’ anguish in trying to reconcile the conflicting influence of the two alphas. Though Michelle Renee Kegan has only one scene as Mrs. Muller, she evoked powerful emotion.

Michael Thomas directed with intelligence and intriguing effects, especially in the riveting climactic scene. Sister Aloysius seemed to get hypnotically demonic, emphasized by Katie Pratt’s dramatic lighting. But when I pried my eyes away from her to look at Father Flynn, his anger was just as dark—and seemed just as emphasized by the lighting.

Though most of the play consists of dialogues between two people, it seemed to be more a set of monologues, in which the actors—perhaps intentionally-- didn’t engage each other. They talked past and over each other, and rarely made eye contact.

Catholics in the audience may be more attuned to the issues of religious faith and doubt, and those who remember this era know that it was a time of major transition: in just a few years, such traditions as the Latin Mass would be gone, and that young nun could kick her habit for more contemporary clothes.

But doubt and certainty have political and judicial consequences, and it’s on the central matter of the priest’s guilt or innocence that the play is often a Rorschach test, apparently by Shanley’s design. As a parable, it doesn't seem to have a clear moral. The play both illustrates how dangerous allegations of such crimes can be, and suggests the shadowy machinations of cover-up.

But I think it’s fair to say the play takes no firm position on even the facts of the priest’s behavior, so for some it may feel more like too clever a vagueness rather than a mind-opening ambiguity. Perhaps it works in the territory between the unsettling and the unsatisfying. But for whatever reasons, or from whatever point of view, this is apt to be a haunting 90 minutes of theatre.

But you have to see it to decide. Doubt: A Parable continues weekends at NCRT until April 17.

Last Old Business

A couple of minor matters as the year ends... A few weeks ago a cast member of Ferndale Rep's production of Oliver! wrote a well-expressed and very respectful letter to the editor published in the NC Journal, lamenting the fact that I did not review that show in that newspaper. Since I didn't see the letter until it was published--as strange as that may sound--I want to respond here to a couple of her points.

"I miss the reviews of a few years ago, when a potential audience member got a little taste of what they could expect," she writes. Unless she is missing the reviews by my predecessors, she may have completely missed my reviews of Ferndale Rep productions I've done this year: Crimes of the Heart (October), Jekyll and Hyde (Aug.), Arsenic and Old Lace (May), The Wild Guys (Feb.), which I believe is 4 out of the last 6 shows there.

She described my preview of Oliver! as "a little blurb buried underneath another show's review." It did appear second to a review of the Dell'Arte Christmas show, but the preview was five paragraphs, and the review was seven. It was also featured in the column's subhead, and was the third consecutive mention of the show in my last three columns.

Lastly, I haven't seen any credible evidence that my reviews, positive or negative, have increased or depressed attendance anywhere. Apparently the opening night for Oliver! was sold out, quite a feat for the large Ferndale Rep theatre.

On another matter, my year-end column is in this week's Journal, and online here. Bear with me, but I have to quibble about one editorial change. In an apparent effort to prevent the repetition of the word "simple," it was changed to "basic" in the following paragraph:

If you know anything about baseball, you realize (and probably relish) that it’s a fiendishly complicated game, and playing it well is difficult. But it’s also very simple. As the fictional manager of a minor league team in the classic movie Bull Durham tells his players: “This is a simple game. You throw the ball. You hit the ball. You catch the ball.”

In the published version, the second sentence reads: "But it's also very basic." In this context, "basic" and "simple" simply don't mean the same thing. Something can be basic without being simple, for instance.

I realize I don't mention the editorial changes that correct my mistakes or that otherwise improve the piece, so as the year ends I'll acknowledge generally that this happens, and I'm grateful to the editors who make those corrections and improvements. Happy New Year to all.

Integrity

My very part-time, hourly gig doing some basic gathering, organizing and disseminating of information for HSU Department of Theatre, Film & Dance productions, limits what I can write about HSU shows in the Stage Matters column I write for the North Coast Journal, which is also a very part-time gig, paying a flat per column rate, with no benefits or expenses.

I was hired for both gigs at roughly the same time, and both parties knew of the other possibilities before I was hired, and both knew and approved of my commitment to not review HSU shows in my column.

Out of some 32 columns, I wrote something substantial about HSU shows in four, with this basic disclosure. Conflict of interest is a complex issue, and there are many factors involved, particularly in terms of ordinary practice here in Humboldt. I’ve been writing and editing professionally for about 35 years, and my integrity has always been important to me. I’ve made some substantial sacrifices based on principle, and in general I believe my past supports my ethical commitment. I understand the difficulties and I certainly feel the awkwardness of this situation, but basically, my conscience is clear. As conflict of interest is also a matter of appearances, I leave those judgments of what the Journal publishes to its editors.

But I do face the dilemma of a different sort of conflict as theatre columnist: between the appearance of a conflict of interest, and my responsibilities in covering North Coast theatre. To put it simply, no column that purports to cover North Coast theatre can possibly ignore HSU theatre. In terms of quality, of its unique contribution in the plays and the theatre it does, and its place in the theatre and general community, it must be part of the mix, just as Dell’Arte is, or North Coast Rep or Ferndale Rep. I want to be fair to all, and that means being fair to HSU as well.

But in the past year or so, I discovered that if I did not write about HSU theatre, then nothing about these productions appeared in the Journal. That’s a disservice to Journal readers as well as to all the people involved in HSU theatre and dance. It’s especially missed since the Journal lives in Arcata, and so does HSU.

Recently I took this concern to my editors at the Journal, and received their assurances that they will make an effort to ensure that somebody covers HSU theatre in its pages. So I don't have to write about it in the Journal, and that particular conflict issue won't pertain.

My writing about North Coast theatre is still incomplete without writing about HSU. (Plus they do plays there, and plays are what I like writing about best. There are only so many ways I can describe juggling or evaluate somersaults.) So I will continue to write about HSU shows here in my online space. I am master here, and I know my interest in plays and performance, writers and actors, etc. far outweigh my supposed financial self-interest based on a review.

I initially posted a much longer discussion of conflict of interest issues, and many more details about myself. But upon reflection, I decided to simply make this statement and move on.

Stage Matters Online

Caryl Churchill

Stage Matters Online

Equal Opportunity Humor

by William S. Kowinski

Caryl Churchill, author of Cloud 9, which will be presented at HSU beginning this week, is that anomaly of the celebrity age: an unknown major playwright. Tony Kushner has called her the greatest living English playwright, and her plays are done often in North America, not only in places with San Francisco values (like San Francisco), but (this spring alone) at the University of Pittsburgh and my alma mater, Knox College in downstate Illinois.

Still, “everybody knows Tom Stoppard but hardly anyone knows Caryl Churchill,” said the artistic director of a Philadelphia theatre which completed a Stoppard play and was beginning a Churchill festival. The comparison is apt, since they both hit the British theatre scene at about the same time, in the heady, flashy, London swings, everything-is-possible, late 1960s. Some of their differences may also suggest why Churchill is less known: she was more experimental, more openly collaborative, more political from the beginning, and more pioneering and radical in the ideas she played with. She was also the first woman playwright to be produced at the Royal Court Theatre, which became her artistic home.

That’s also meant that most discussion of Churchill has been in the various academic permutations of gender studies, cultural semiotics and political analysis. But while her plays have taken the lead in consciously and courageously confronting such issues, what often gets lost in all the ideology and specialized jargon is what a skilled, daring, energetic, witty and generous playwright she is.

I’ve had a good time reading some of her plays this week. There’s quite a variety--she wrote contemporary and historical dramas and comedies, radio and television plays, adaptations, stage plays that emphasized movement or song as well as those that depended on dialogue, etc. But what stands out about them all is how she expresses the irony of real life.

One difficulty may be that her plays are notoriously hard to stage. I’ve seen three productions, one of Mad Forest and two of Cloud 9, including its original New York staging, directed by Tommy Tune. I remember that production as having a dynamite first act, and a confusing second act. Cloud 9 is especially difficult because the two acts are so different: the first (which takes place in 19th century colonial Africa) verges on caricature, while the second (in modern London) is more naturalistic in tone.

Part of the problem may be the language difference. (Don’t laugh—one Churchill play was partly inspired by the different pronunciation of “ice cream” in England and America.) English English depends a great deal on class, place and time period. While the Brits in Act I may adopt upper class accents of the Queen’s English because they represent England in an African outpost of the Empire, they are basically middle class. If they were nobility, they wouldn’t be posted deep in the heart of darkness. The characters in Act II are openly urban middle class, and so their accents aren’t of the posh Masterpiece Theatre sort.

This may be difficult for Americans to grasp, but it affects the rhythms. It also reflects the differences of the characters: those in Act I are pretending and repressing, with tragic and hilarious results, while those in Act II (metaphorically the grown-up children of Act I) are aware of the issues and are trying to deal with them, though with residual and therefore hilarious bits of unconsciousness. That the second act takes place on a playground suggests the innocence and exploration of new roles and rules across generations, as well as anticipating pratfalls.

[text continues after photo]

Tisha Sloane in the HSU production of Cloud 9.

Caryl Churchill Continued

Certainly the content of gender identity and sexual repression as it relates to political power and social violence created difficulties for audiences in the 80s, when this play premiered over here. Men playing women pretending to be men was a Shakespearian era convention, but Churchill used gender-bending casting to explore and confront these issues. But even with the alarming ascent of reactionary fundamentalism, audiences today are better prepared to see what Churchill is getting at, and to get the jokes.

On the other hand, I can appreciate the weariness of those who feel they are constantly being told that the world is so awful because of people of their color, class, gender and/or sexuality. What I especially appreciate about Churchill is that I never feel demonized, and in the sense of trying to be part of the solution, I never feel excluded. I think this is partly due to how she links gender and racial prejudices to sexual repression generally, which seems accurate, and it makes the play more universal. But mostly I’m guessing it’s the irony in her writing and stagecraft. Irony is an equal opportunity deflator and illuminator.

The HSU production of Cloud 9, directed by John Heckel, begins in the Gist Hall Theatre this Thursday for a two-weekend run. If you are automatically offended by bad words, outrageous ideas and sexual situations in unconventional permutations, don’t go. You can find more information at http://Cloud9HSU.blogspot.com, including comments by the director. I put the blog together as the HSU Theatre, Film & Dance department publicist. The views expressed there represent the department. The views expressed here, as always, represent nobody but me.

This Week's Column

Jake's Women

There's a particular interest in a writer seeing a play about a writer who is too much the observer and not enough the participant in his own life, especially when one is among those reviewers who began as a participant in theatre -- as a playwright, actor, director and even a song composer, and whose role now is as journalist and judge.

Well, when you get a role, play it.

The column--a review of Jake's Women at the North Coast Rep-- continues here at the North Coast Journal. Sneak preview: I liked the performances and the production more than the play itself.

Other reviews of this show are Barry Blake's in the Times-Standard, and Wendy Butler's in the Eureka Reporter. Barry went past Jake as a writer to see a more universal message in his fantasizing, and as usual integrated his description of the story with choice evaluative comments--he especially complimented the costume design. I'm not sure he liked the play any better than I did, though. Wendy was even more bothered by the accent that I was--actually I thought Michael Thomas had arrived at a more stable New York accent by the second act; in the first act it was hard to tell whether he was supposed to be from Boston or Brooklyn. And it wasn't just him in the first act. I'm guessing they got it together in later shows.