More stories

  • in

    The Stuff They Strut on the Jellicle Catwalk

    From the first solo to the euphoric final bows, dance is essential to the world-building of “Cats: The Jellicle Ball.” Watch four standout dancers from the reinvented classic.Before anyone steps onto the catwalk in “Cats: The Jellicle Ball,” the wildly popular reimagining of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Cats” at the Perelman Performing Arts Center, a dancer’s silhouette appears at the back of the stage, darting across a row of windows. At first, his movement recalls the limber ballet-jazz of the original 1982 Broadway production, accented with tricks like a split leap and a back walkover. He has two little ears, a tail. He could be prowling on a rooftop at night.But then something shifts. The silhouetted dancer strips away his tail, and vintage musical theater gives way to elements of vogue: the circling wrists of hand performance; the crouched legs and flashing arms of a duckwalk; the whirl and dramatic fall of a spin and dip.“It’s arguably one of the most important moments in the show,” said the dancer Primo, to whom the silhouette belongs. “All of that represents exactly what you’re about to see: the marriage of the old with the now.”This wordless overture, choreographed by Ousmane Omari Wiles, introduces the seemingly incongruous and yet surprisingly seamless collision of worlds at the heart of “Cats: The Jellicle Ball.” Extended three times since its premiere in June, and now running through Sept. 8, the show reinvents the classic musical in the context of queer ballroom culture, replacing cats with people who have come together to walk a ball, battling for trophies on a nightclub runway.Ousmane Omari Wiles, left, and Arturo Lyons, the choreographers of “Cats: The Jellicle Ball.” Wiles said he wanted “to celebrate queer club culture itself and all the dance styles we embody within that.” From that shadowy first solo to the euphoria of the final bows, dance is essential to the storytelling and world-building of “The Jellicle Ball,” which is directed by Bill Rauch and Zhailon Levingston and choreographed by Wiles and Arturo Lyons. Not limited to the catwalk stage, the movement often spills into the audience, with performers buzzing among the front rows and cocktail tables that flank the runway. The ornate, extravagant costumes by Qween Jean create physical possibilities, too, becoming playful extensions of the choreography.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    How to Survive (and Maybe Conquer) the Edinburgh Fringe Festival

    Nadia Quinn had been warned about bringing her show of wacky comic songs to the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh. Facebook groups, Reddit posts and friends suggested that taking on the 77-year-old festival as an unestablished performer was too daunting.One episode of “Baby Reindeer,” the hit Netflix series that took off at the 2019 Fringe, mines the humiliation that Richard Gadd, the show’s creator, faced performing there in a pub. With nearly 3,500 shows and with comics and clowns vying for attention throughout the month of August, how would Quinn find a venue, housing and people to fill her seats for even a week? She had never even been to the festival, which has the potential to turn unknowns into stars.“Everyone is telling me you can’t understand the Fringe until you go to the Fringe,” Quinn said earlier this month before flying to Scotland from New York. “I’m hoping to make the right decisions and I’m very excited, but I also feel like throwing up every day, which I guess is part of the process.”You may have seen Quinn, a vibrant, vocally gifted actress in Steven Spielberg’s “West Side Story,” or on Broadway in the 2010 production of “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson.” Maybe you’ve seen her on “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” or in TV commercials, or at 54 Below, the Midtown cabaret venue. She has worked in New York for 22 years, performing original songs with Aaron Quinn, her husband. (A recent one, about making bongs out of just about anything, was a huge hit on TikTok before censors took it down.)We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    ‘Hannah Gadsby: Woof’ Review: A Comic’s Pet Themes

    In a soul-baring new show at the Edinburgh Fringe, the Australian stand-up leans once again into fears, anxieties and mental health worries.The title of Hannah Gadsby’s new stand-up show at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe is “Woof,” but the Australian comic has a very specific type of dog bark in mind. It sounds like something between a burp and a cough. It’s impossible to spell, but if you had to, it might go something like “peuh.” Gadsby says it typically signals that the animal is about to go into a frenzy. As a metaphor for Gadsby’s state of mind, it’s inauspicious. Should we be concerned?Well, yes and no. For the most part, Gadsby’s new routine, at the Underbelly through Aug. 25, is a chill affair. Gadsby is on genial form, taking acerbic pot shots at Taylor Swift (“a can of Coke masquerading as a sorority cult”) and social media (“where neurotypical people go to experience the worst of autism”). There’s some pleasingly risqué material about the sex lives of lesbian soccer players that is too graphic to discuss here.But when the focus turns inward, the vibe shifts. Gadsby describes a sense of discombobulation and a kind of existential vertigo that comes with having achieved fame and fortune relatively late in life.“My bed is so comfortable,” Gadsby says, “and that keeps me up at night.”This is, of course, nothing new — there is always a lot of Hannah Gadsby in a Hannah Gadsby show. “Nanette,” the 2018 Netflix special that catapulted Gadsby from relative obscurity to stardom, drew heavily on harrowing personal experiences of gendered violence. “Douglas” (2020) explored Gadsby’s autism diagnosis. An online run-in with Netflix bosses, over a routine by Dave Chapelle that critics described as transphobic, cemented Gadsby’s status as a culture war lodestar, and inspired the 2024 comedy showcase, “Hannah Gadsby’s Gender Agenda.”The story of that career trajectory is inextricable from the oeuvre itself, making Gadsby something like the Rachel Cusk of comedy. This inevitably brings a certain anxiety about shelf-life, and the specter of demise haunts this set. Gadsby, who uses they/them pronouns, notes that this is their first Fringe appearance in seven years, and playfully suggests that returning to the festival — known for showcasing up-and-comers — is a fall from grace. Later, Gadsby imagines angry Swifties ending their career. “There’s nothing more feminist,” they quip, “than getting canceled by other feminists.”Gadsby also fears they might be too low-key, or too idiosyncratic, to command sustained attention. “I’m not the right person for this success,” they say — but most famous people have felt this way at some point. Besides, that whimsical nature is precisely what people like, and in our increasingly fragmented mass culture it doesn’t really matter if your material doesn’t work for everyone. There are many publics.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    At Edinburgh Festival, Sometimes Simpler is Better

    The event’s best theater production avoided the gimmicks of other shows in favor of well-drawn characters and well-written dialogue.If you say “Edinburgh Festival” to most people, they’ll probably think of the Fringe. But the Fringe — primarily a showcase of up-and-coming acts from English-speaking countries — is actually an offshoot of the more global, highbrow and judiciously curated Edinburgh International Festival, and the two events run side-by-side.The theater offerings in this year’s International Festival showcase the brightest Scottish talent alongside shows from around the world and fall into two categories: While the international plays are overtly political, encompassing disability rights, antiracism and ecology, the homegrown works explored the more personal terrain of addiction, recovery and self-care.One of the most eye-catching items on the bill was a metafictional spin on “Hamlet” by the Peruvian company Teatro La Plaza, which ran at the Royal Lyceum Theater Edinburgh earlier this month. This production, performed by eight young actors with Down syndrome, charts the journey of a similar, but fictional, group as it prepares to put on a production of Shakespeare’s famous tragedy. The actors perform snatches of “Hamlet” — there’s a murdered father, a ghost, a play within a play — and try to connect its story line to disability: Polonius’s protectiveness toward Ophelia, we are told, echoes society’s tendency to infantilize people with Down syndrome.But there isn’t much thematic overlap, and this “Hamlet” is mainly a cipher for the power of storytelling. In a key scene, Álvaro (Álvaro Toledo) sees Jaime (Jaime Cruz) trying to replicate Laurence Olivier’s famous performance in the 1948 film adaptation, which plays on the screen behind him. Álvaro upbraids Jamie for trying to play the part “like a statue.” The message, that people with Down’s must carve out their own paths rather than assimilating to normative expectations, is later reiterated in a defiant punk rock routine.Jaime Cruz in Teatro La Plaza’s “Hamlet.”Jess ShurteThe cast appears in casual rehearsal attire, but a dazzling selection of spotlights (by Jesús Reyes) injects a sense of magic. The actors are capable and immensely charismatic, and there are a number of funny moments including a fake Skype chat with Ian McKellen. But Chela De Ferrari’s script fades toward the end as the concept drowns out the story and the play lapses into a cloying mushiness that sits uneasily with its anti-condescension message.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    Theater Breaks Ties With Ivo van Hove After Report on Bullying

    An investigation found that a “culture of fear” had developed at the International Theater Amsterdam during the years when the star director led the company.The International Theater Amsterdam said on Wednesday that it had cut ties with Ivo van Hove, the Tony-winning director who led the company for more than 20 years. The breakup was announced just weeks after a report said that a “culture of fear” had developed under van Hove’s leadership and that he allowed bullying to go unchecked.Although van Hove stepped down as the theater’s artistic director last year, he stayed on as a salaried artistic adviser and was scheduled to create new work. A news release this week said that those collaborations had been terminated, and that the theater’s entire supervisory board had resigned.“By taking these steps and creating space for restoration and transparency, the interests and feelings of all involved are taken seriously,” Clayde Menso, the International Theater Amsterdam’s managing director, said in a statement.In July, the International Theater Amsterdam published an independent report that included the results of a survey of 285 current and former employees.The report detailed incidents of bullying and intimidation, including an actress shouting at a member of the technical staff after an error, and a guest director acting similarly toward actors. Many of the survey’s respondents said they did not feel safe at the company.Last week, the NRC newspaper published its own investigation into the theater’s backstage culture. In the article, an actress said a colleague had grabbed her by the throat.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    7 Days in the Cultural Life of an Artistic Director

    Violaine Huisman, who leads programming for the Crossing the Line festival, takes in dance on Little Island, a world premiere at Asia Society and “invigorating” translation projects.Bastille Day felt a little bit different this year than others, said Violaine Huisman, the artistic director of New York’s annual Crossing the Line festival. L’Alliance, the French cultural center in Midtown, throws a party every July 14, the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille during the French Revolution. This year, the celebration took place just one week after a surprising snap election left President Emmanuel Macron — and France — in a state of flux.“I overheard onlookers wondering out loud whether it was a French tradition to demonstrate with blank signs on that day,” recalled Huisman, who had just been in the country to witness the upset in the streets. (Many participants in this year’s festival opted to carry blank placards in homage to a demonstration created by the choreographer Anna Halprin during the civil rights and antiwar protests of the 1960s.)During these times of uncertainty, many look to art for clarity and guidance. Huisman, 45, is certainly one of those people, as she has been hard at work curating programming for the next Crossing the Line, which kicks off several weeks of art, dance and theater on Sept. 5.Ahead of the festival, Huisman tracked a few days of her cultural life, noting some of the performances, books and music, mostly from her native France, that inspired her. Here are edited excerpts from phone and email interviews.“I overheard onlookers wondering out loud whether it was a French tradition to demonstrate with blank signs on that day,” Huisman said.Jutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York TimesSunday: Placards for PeaceWe celebrated Bastille Day at L’Alliance with a street fair and an amazing piece of performance art, in which two dozen volunteers carrying blank placards engaged in a procession through Midtown, trailed by a marching band. It was a re-enactment by Anne Collod of Anna Halprin’s “Blank Placard Dance.” Volunteers asked audience members what they would march for. “Peace” was the overwhelming response.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    He Wants People Restarting Their Lives to See Themselves Onstage

    Tarell Alvin McCraney, the artistic director of the Geffen Playhouse in Los Angeles, is focused on bringing marginalized people to the theater.At a time when nonprofit theaters are still recovering from the pandemic shutdown and are looking to connect with their communities, Tarell Alvin McCraney is looking in unorthodox places: prisons, homeless shelters and the foster care system.One year into his tenure as the artistic director of the Geffen Playhouse in Los Angeles, McCraney, 43, doesn’t just want to expand his audience, he wants the theater to be a place where the marginalized and struggling see themselves onstage and feel welcome.“The first thing we do is make sure that they can see plays that reflect their lives,” McCraney said in a recent interview, “plays that deal with folks who are in the system, formerly incarcerated, trying to rebuild their lives.”It is with this priority in mind that McCraney decided to start this season with his own play, “The Brothers Size,” which began previews Aug. 14 and explores the complicated but loving relationship between Oshoosi, just out of prison, and his older brother Ogun. The Geffen has offered free tickets to “populations impacted by incarceration” through its Theater as a Lens for Justice initiative, which McCraney started shortly after his arrival.The Geffen, which has an annual operating budget of about $15 million and a staff of 45 full-time employees, will do the same with its upcoming productions of “Waiting for Godot,” which opens in November, and “Furlough’s Paradise,” which opens next April.These types of outreach efforts might not necessarily translate into ticket sales. But nonprofit theaters all over the country are eager to build their audiences at a time when subscriptions have declined; the Mark Taper theater in Los Angeles suspended productions last year.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    At Edinburgh Fringe, There Are 2 Plays About Gwyneth Paltrow

    Multiple shows at the Edinburgh Fringe make camp fun out of the 2023 civil action that spurred a thousand memes — and one of them is a triumph.Terry Sanderson, a retired optometrist, was unsuccessful when he sued the actress turned wellness entrepreneur Gwyneth Paltrow over a collision on a Utah ski slope. Though he claimed that she had crashed into him, a jury determined it was actually his fault. The live-streamed 2023 civil case was an unseemly but strangely fascinating spectacle featuring two equally dislikable archetypes: the vexatious litigant and the preening, out-of-touch celebrity.But in another sense, Sanderson won: His name is now forever etched into pop culture folklore, as not one but two new stage productions about the ski trial at this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe attest.In “Gwyneth Goes Skiing,” Sanderson’s vibe is that of a spurned lover.Jonny RuffThe more rough and ready of the two, “Gwyneth Goes Skiing,” at the Pleasance Courtyard, is a camp burlesque in which both parties are mercilessly skewered. Linus Karp, in drag, plays Paltrow with the drawling malice of a pantomime witch. She’s an entitled girlboss whose altruistic affectations mask a sociopathic character, while Joseph Martin as Sanderson is dull mediocrity personified. The characters’ partners are played by plucky audience volunteers, aided by a teleprompter, and Kristin VanOrman, Sanderson’s lawyer, is represented as star-struck and hopelessly incompetent by a disheveled ventriloquist’s dummy, voiced by Martin.In this telling, both Sanderson and his lawyer are driven not so much by monetary greed as by a pathetic desire to connect with Paltrow. They are moths to the flame of celebrity, and Sanderson’s vibe is that of a spurned lover. There are snowball fights, some jousting with skis and snatches of music. When Paltrow utters the immortal line that spurred a thousand memes, “I lost half a day of skiing,” the stage lighting switches to a deep red to emphasize the severity of her plight. At the end of the show, the audience gets to be the jury, voting via QR code to decide who wins.Linus Karp as Paltrow, with Kristin VanOrman, Sanderson’s lawyer, played by a puppet.Jonny RuffWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More