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    ‘The Big Mix’: Little Island’s 3-Week Party

    The director Tina Landau knows firsthand how much the New York City waterfront has changed over the decades. In 1996, she did a production of Charles Mee’s “The Trojan Women: A Love Story” at the East River Park Amphitheater. “I remember going there, and we cleaned up syringes and condoms,” Landau said.She was speaking backstage at another riverside amphitheater, albeit in much improved conditions: at the public park Little Island in Manhattan, which opened last year at Pier 55 on the Hudson and where Landau is directing “The Big Mix,” a new performing arts festival through July 3. The roster features prominent names like Idina Menzel, Tonya Pinkins and Peppermint alongside poets and fire artists, neighborhood dance troupes and choirs, tap dancers and marching bands.“I wanted to focus on representation of as many kinds and types and ethnicities and abilities and genders,” Landau said.One of Little Island’s four artists in residence, Landau has come a long way since her days picking up trash before a show; she’s a member of the Steppenwolf Theater Company in Chicago, and was a Tony nominee for “SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical.” But the inspiration behind “The Big Mix” came not so much from a high concept as from simply looking at the calendar.“I saw that Pride weekend was a week after Juneteenth and a week before July 4th,” Landau said. “I started thinking about what these holidays are: What do they mean to different people, and why do we celebrate them? So each show is in honor of, and an interrogation of, the holiday that falls on that weekend.”While she takes seriously the meaning of these commemorations, Landau also wants to entertain. “Let’s get a ton of different people in here and mash them up, and let it be sloppy and crazy and big and powerful and fun,” she said.From left, Zach McNally, Ianne Fields Stewart, Allan K. Washington and Marla Louissaint rehearsing at Little Island for a Pride Week performance. Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesJoshua Henry (“Carousel,” “Waitress” and the upcoming Broadway run of “Into the Woods”) is the M.C. of the Juneteenth celebration, running through Sunday, with a lineup that includes Pinkins, the singer Mykal Kilgore, the Sing Harlem Choir and the dancer Brinae Ali. Henry is fully on board with Landau’s big-tent approach.“It’s my job to make sure everyone’s having a great time,” he said in a video chat. “As I become more active on social media, people are starting to see my personality more, and I guess I come across as a fun-loving guy, which is pretty accurate,” he added, chuckling.Henry also suggested potential guests to Landau, who was all ears. “I wanted to find a way to turn over the space to voices other than my own,” she said. “For Juneteenth, for instance, I’ve invited people, but I’ve also been very open to what they want to say and how they want to say it. We’re in a very charged and thankfully transformative time, culturally.”The L.G.B.T.Q. Pride program (June 23-25) provided Landau an opportunity for some course-correction, decades after her 1994 show “Stonewall, Night Variations,” which also happened to be on a New York pier. Looking back on that show, Landau believed it wasn’t as inclusive as it should have been — leaving out people of color, homeless youth and transgender women in particular, who were all “part of that moment in time.” This time around, she said, “I wanted to honor those that I, in some way, had left out.”That’s why Peppermint, the “RuPaul’s Drag Race” runner-up, seemed like a great addition as M.C. But because she could host only a couple of the Pride shows, Landau turned to the costume designer and activist Qween Jean to handle the other two. “I had been following her, and I thought, ‘She’s the real deal, she’s out there doing the work,’” she said.Another participant in the Pride celebration is the choreographer James Alsop, who had been wanting to collaborate with Landau since meeting her in 2019. “She could have said, ‘I have a sneaker full of poop,’ and I’d be like, ‘I’ll choreograph it!’” Alsop said with a laugh.Fortunately, the director had a better offer — to choreograph a group number to Diana Ross’s “I’m Coming Out” for the festival, despite being deep in rehearsal for “The Devil Wears Prada: The Musical,” which premieres next month in Chicago.Jose Llana, right, and Brandon Contreras rehearsing a duet in front of an unbeatable backdrop, the Hudson River.Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesOne challenge was to concentrate on the dancing and not the spectacular vista right behind the stage. “Let the backdrop do what it does and just be beautiful, and let me not think too much about it, because then I won’t really focus on the movement and the dance and the joy that I want the audience to feel,” Alsop said. “I just want to exude nothing but radiance and light.”Rounding out the festival is the Independence Day show (June 30-July 3), hosted by Faith Prince — a beloved Broadway star who won a Tony for “Guys and Dolls” in 1992 and starred in Landau’s revival of “Bells Are Ringing” about a decade later.At first, though, the actress worried that she wouldn’t be a good pick for the diverse group of performers, which includes the samba-reggae marching band Fogo Azul NYC, the poet Denice Frohman and the Heidi Latsky Dance company.“Tina said, ‘Oh no, you’re quirky in your own way,’” Prince said on the phone. “And I said, ‘Yeah, I have age on me, which is another factor.’ Just when you think you’re in your prime, they want to put you out to pasture!”Prince is familiar with at least one of the performers in the Independence Day show, the Broadway regular Judy Kuhn, but she’s particularly excited by the mix of professional artists and community members, similar to the approach in a production of “The Tempest” she co-directed at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center in 2019.“We used a lot of different groups around the city, and it was thrilling,” Prince said. “It brought so many different communities together, and they were all cheering for each other. I’m really excited that’s what will happen here.”The Big MixThrough July 3 at Little Island, Pier 55, Manhattan; littleisland.org. More

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    To Preserve La MaMa’s Legacy, a Shift in Leadership Styles

    Championing collaboration and digital projects, Mia Yoo is forging her own path at the experimental theater incubator.Artistic directors tend to be in the spotlight twice: When they are appointed and when they leave. But looking at what happens several years into a tenure — especially one that includes a global pandemic — can be a helpful exercise for anybody interested in arts management.After a decade as the artistic director of La MaMa Experimental Theater Club, in the East Village, Mia Yoo has somehow established continuity with the aesthetics and priorities established by her predecessor, Ellen Stewart, while also forging her own path.With the theater’s 60th season nearing its end (it’s currently presenting “God’s Fool,” a new work about Saint Francis of Assisi by the dance-theater master Martha Clarke), Yoo sat down to chat about two things in constant conversation, or perhaps in a constant tug of war, at her institution: the past and the present.The first still looms over La MaMa, which for decades was closely identified with Stewart, its gung-ho, charismatic founder. Over 50 years, she nurtured La MaMa into a performing arts incubator of international repute. And then, in 2011, she died.“I always say Ellen could have burned this place down if she wanted to, because she built it,” said Yoo, who picked up the artistic-director baton when she was in her early 40s, about the same age Stewart was when she created LaMaMa in 1961. “I know she wouldn’t do that, but there’s a part of me that thought she could because she created it. Now it’s up to us as a community to make sure that it continues.”Ellen Stewart in 1965. She nurtured La MaMa into a performing-arts incubator of international repute. “Now it’s up to us as a community to make sure that it continues,” Yoo said.Sam Falk/The New York TimesOn a recent afternoon, she guided me through a hard-hat tour of La MaMa’s flagship four-story home at 74A East Fourth Street. The 19th-century building, which the company purchased in 1967, is in the middle of a $24 million gut renovation — financed by the city and state of New York, as well as various foundations and donors — that will finally bring it up to modern standards. The performance spaces are being upgraded, an elevator is finally being installed to ensure accessibility, and a data network will support the latest in video and audio technology.Throughout the seemingly never-ending construction — the reopening has been pushed several times and is now scheduled for this fall, or maybe spring 2023 — shows have continued to be made. That’s because Stewart had the forethought to invest in real estate: La MaMa owns 88,000 square feet spread over four buildings within walking distance of one another, as well as a property in Umbria, Italy, that is used for playwriting and directing workshops.Yoo and I had moved on to 66 East Fourth Street, which houses the company archive and the mainstage Ellen Stewart Theater. Sitting in the first row, Yoo warmly greeted children from the Brooklyn United Music and Arts Program, an after-school project that has been working with La MaMa since 2015. The children were preparing for a performance of their show “B.U. Live” later that day.Yoo herself has come of creative age at La MaMa. Starting in the early 2000s, she worked with Stewart — “there was something symbiotic and mutual in terms of what we were wanting to create,” she said — and eventually her mentor anointed her the new artistic director. No exploratory committee, no national search: Stewart decided that Yoo would be next, and that was that.In the ensuing decade, Yoo has steered the ship very differently from the way Stewart did — and, as it turned out, more in sync with the behavior expected from artistic directors these days.“They have almost polar opposite leadership styles,” Lois Weaver, a member of the long-running performance company Split Britches, said in a video chat. “Ellen was very, very much in charge: It was her theater, she had the last word, she made all the decisions. She loved her family very, very much, but it was a very, very tough love. Mia’s leadership style is a collaborative style, and her love is an extended-care kind of style. She looks after the well-being and the welfare of each of the artists and also the staff: They make collective and collaborative decisions rather than slightly autocratic decisions.”The company archive is housed at 66 East Fourth Street, where the mainstage Ellen Stewart Theater is also located.Olivia Galli for The New York TimesThis has led to management that is less top-down than Stewart’s reign — not easy when it would sometimes be more expedient to just tell someone to do something.“I tried to create an environment where we get consensus from a lot of different people, and a lot of people then ultimately become invested in how we’re moving forward,” Yoo said. “We have a lot of different programs: a play-reading series, a puppet series, the La MaMa Moves! Dance Festival, the Coffeehouse Chronicles series, and each of them has its own person running it,” she continued. “I try to give them as much freedom as possible.”The programming director of the Club, one of the spaces at 74A, and the curator of La MaMa Moves!, Nicky Paraiso embodies both this collaborative approach and the institution’s constant negotiation between an awe-inspiring legacy — which nurtured the careers of Harvey Fierstein, Sam Shepard, Diane Lane, Al Pacino and even David and Amy Sedaris — and the future. He appeared in the Jeff Weiss show “Dark Twist” at La MaMa in 1979, but unlike others, he essentially never left. This has helped give him a bird’s-eye view of curating as he and Yoo try to figure out how to balance the needs and approaches of different generations.“I’ll say, ‘Do we keep presenting such and such an artist? Are they doing the same work that they were doing 20 years ago?’” Paraiso said in a video conversation. “And Mia would say, ‘Ellen created this space for people to nurture their art and then they become part of the family of La MaMa.’”As with every company, the programming can be uneven, though the ratio of hits to misses seems to have improved from where it was toward the end of Stewart’s tenure. And this has been accomplished by striking a delicate balance between older artists and newcomers.In the first category is Split Britches, which has been presenting shows at La MaMa for much of its 40-year existence and in October will present “Last Gasp: A Recalibration,” an in-person production of its acclaimed pandemic video project “Last Gasp WFH.” And then you have someone like the 30-year-old multidisciplinary artist John Maria Gutierrez, who in May performed the solo show “Rockefeller and I Part 1,” contrasting his experience as the son of Dominican immigrants with the life of John D. Rockefeller Jr., on the sidewalk outside 66 East Fourth Street.“We believe,” Yoo said, “that if we create an environment and a platform for artists to explore and experiment in ways that they themselves didn’t even think possible, that potentially groundbreaking work could happen.”Olivia Galli for The New York TimesWhen he was still in high school, Gutierrez was mentored by the composer, writer and director Elizabeth Swados, a pillar of La MaMa. He graduated from New York University and he, too, found his artistic home in the East Village, joining La MaMa’s Great Jones Repertory Company. “It was after Ellen had passed and I was the newest member,” he said in a video chat. “It was Mia who brought me in and checked up on me. She kept inviting me into her office and asking, ‘Well, what do you want to do?’”Yoo also bet on the future when it came to exploring technology’s impact on the performing arts.In a 2011 article introducing her as the new head of La MaMa, The New York Times noted that “Ms. Yoo is championing a high-tech project called CultureHub that allows theatermakers in different countries to work together by video conference. She calls this system, which allows for life-size images, ‘Skype on steroids.’” (When he was president of the Seoul Institute of the Arts, Yoo Duk-hyung — Yoo’s father, whom Stewart had adopted — spearheaded CultureHub as a joint project with La MaMa.)Fast forward to March 2020, when the city’s live-performance venues shut down amid the pandemic. LaMaMa did, too, but it immediately pivoted to online programming that included everything from children’s shows to new work and chats with legacy and emerging artists. Unlike the majority of its New York brethren, La MaMa not only knew what livestreaming was but also had the infrastructure to implement it.Just like Stewart had invested in physical assets, Yoo had staked a claim on the virtual world. “I believe that artists need to be a part of that conversation — it can’t be just technologists and corporations that are in that internet space,” she said. “It’s not going to just be about money or about power, but about how we explore our humanity.”As La MaMa remained virtually busy — it’s worth noting that Yoo did all this while being paid about $65,000 in 2020, while some high-profile artistic directors making many times that salary essentially hibernated — the company also reinforced its commitment to what it calls a Radical Access Plan. According to its “envisioning statement,” a declaration of intent, that plan includes physical and economic accessibility, opportunity, representation and relevance.The work itself has remained eclectic as ever, reflecting not so much on our world’s increasing fragmentation as the idea that art can still play a unifying role. “We want curation of art at this time to be about this multiplicity of perspectives and aesthetics and forms,” Yoo said. “We believe that if we create an environment and a platform for artists to explore and experiment in ways that they themselves didn’t even think possible, that potentially groundbreaking work could happen. And, potentially, new forms could be born.”Yes, she can sound terminally optimistic, but come on — isn’t that infinitely better than the alternative? More

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    Little Amal, a Refugee Puppet Who Traveled Europe, Will Visit New York

    Last year, the 12-foot-tall Syrian girl trekked from Turkey to Britain to find her mother. This fall, she’ll visit all five boroughs.Little Amal, a 12-foot-tall puppet depicting a 10-year-old Syrian refugee, has seen about a dozen countries, visited London’s Royal Opera House and other sightseeing destinations, and even met the Pope.But this fall, Amal will embark on an entirely new adventure, crossing the Atlantic for the first time in a trip to New York intended to promote an open embrace of refugees and immigrants.Amal is scheduled to arrive at John F. Kennedy International Airport on Sept. 14, with plans to travel to all five boroughs, visiting with children, artists, politicians and community leaders along the way, according to an announcement on Thursday from the Walk Productions, which is co-producing the visit with St. Ann’s Warehouse.Her original 5,000-mile journey from Turkey to England last year — which included visits to migrant camps — was designed to highlight the plight of millions of Syrian refugees in Europe who traveled long distances across the continent to flee the country’s civil war. The project was supposed to end there, said its artistic director, Amir Nizar Zuabi, but about two-thirds of the way through the journey, the creative team realized that Amal could have a future beyond those specific geopolitical circumstances.“She became an excuse for communities to come together and be kind to a foreigner,” Zuabi said, “and by doing that, understand something about themselves — understand what there is to celebrate in their communities.”The towering puppet — which is operated by three people, including one person on stilts — will visit St. Ann’s, and several other New York cultural institutions will be involved in her trip, including the Brooklyn Academy of Music, Lincoln Center and the Classical Theater of Harlem. The visit, which has a budget of over $1 million, is planned to conclude in early October with a trip to the Statue of Liberty.In 2018, St. Ann’s presented an Off Broadway play, “The Jungle,” that inspired the character of Amal. First staged at the Young Vic Theater before transferring to the West End, “The Jungle” is based on what its writers, Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson, observed when they set up an interactive arts center in a migrant camp in Calais, France. The play will be returning to St. Ann’s next February.Susan Feldman, the artistic director of St. Ann’s, said she first saw Amal’s effect on the public during a trip last year to an elementary school in a Paris suburb, where the students started screaming and following her around as soon as they laid eyes on her.“She became a bit of a Pied Piper,” Feldman said. “It was very magical.”Although Amal’s presence is not overtly political, Feldman said she felt that the visit to the United States would send an important message in a country where immigration has become a “political football” and migrant children have faced perilous living conditions.To Feldman, Amal’s visits in Europe felt like a parade of innocence and hope. “To have that in the streets in a very visible way could be very beautiful,” she said.Designed by the Handspring Puppet Company of South Africa, Amal is quite delicate — her arms and upper body are made of bamboo canes — and has needed plenty of maintenance over her months of travel, Zuabi said. Earlier this year, she visited young Ukrainian refugees in Poland.But New York is not likely to be her last journey: Amal has had requests to visit countries around the world, he said, and there are plans in the works for trips elsewhere in the U.S. next year. More

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    In London, a Twist on ‘Legally Blonde’ and ‘Oklahoma!’

    The updated musical version of the popular film challenges preconceived notions about the protagonist’s appearance. A take on “Oklahoma!” similarly offers a twist on a classic.LONDON — Some well-known musicals are looking notably different on the London stage these days, and that’s a good thing.It might seem difficult to imagine the theatrical version of “Legally Blonde” featuring anyone but the familiar interpreters of Elle Woods onstage — the likes of Laura Bell Bundy on Broadway, and Sheridan Smith, who won an Olivier Award for her performance when the 2007 Broadway musical later came to the West End.But along comes the ever-adventurous Open Air Theater in Regent’s Park to refashion this popular title anew, in a revival on view through July 2. Directed by Lucy Moss, who won a Tony Award over the weekend with Toby Marlow for writing the hit musical “Six,” this Elle and her stage colleagues are a diverse assemblage who include a transgender nonbinary performer (Isaac Hesketh) in the high-spirited supporting role of Margot.This time, Elle is played by Courtney Bowman, who was Anne Boleyn in the West End production of “Six.” Bowman, who describes herself as Afro-European, has said that she was pleasantly surprised that she was even being considered for the role of the feisty, pink-clad Valley girl portrayed by Reese Witherspoon in the 2001 film of the same name.Bowman, as might be expected, has embraced Moss’s willingness to break with preconceived notions of Elle and has responded to the challenge with a sweet and stirring performance that asks the audience to question what it means to be blonde. (Not everyone was so pleased: The show made headlines several times over when a Sunday Times of London review, critical of the casting, incurred the wrath of both the theater and Moss, who responded on the red carpet at the Tonys.)Not that Elle as a character is in any way changed. Here, as before, she is the shrewd and savvy outsider — a ditzy-seeming sorority girl in fact possessed of steel — who ends up making an indelible mark at Harvard Law School. And so what if the person playing her looks different from previous Elles?If anything, the casting of Bowman only amplifies the inclusive, can-do message of this collaboration between Laurence O’Keefe and Nell Benjamin (music and lyrics) and Heather Hach (book). This isn’t the first time that British theater has taken a less than conventional approach, and those wanting the “blonde” referred to in the title will still find it in Bowman’s braided wig. Laura Hopkins’s tiered set, for its part, includes a curtain that seems intended to complement Elle’s appearance at every turn.Michael Ahomka-Lindsay and Courtney Bowman in “Legally Blonde.” Pamela RaithUpdated to the present, Moss’s take on “Legally Blonde” mentions the Kardashians and Timothée Chalamet, and Elle’s résumé is described as “interactive,” in keeping with technology that wasn’t available two decades ago. Sometimes, the tongue of the production is somewhat too firmly in its cheek: The role of Bruiser, Elle’s beloved Chihuahua — given to an actual pooch in previous productions — is played by Liam McEvoy, costumed much like a human “feline” from the film adaptation of “Cats.”Elsewhere, the narrative hasn’t aged well. After #MeToo, it’s difficult to believe that Callahan (Eugene McCoy), Elle’s predatory law professor, would have made it quite as far as he has, but at least the audience didn’t boo McCoy at the curtain call at a recent performance, as tends to happen in London musicals featuring a notable baddie. And at times, the show is too busy for its own good: You yearn for quieter, more reflective moments that put camp to one side and allow for the proper flowering of feeling between Elle and Emmett (the likable Michael Ahomka-Lindsay), the Harvard Law teaching assistant who soon displaces the callow Warner (Alistair Toovey) in Elle’s affections.Among the female supporting cast, Vanessa Fisher is in notably strong voice as Vivienne, Elle’s rival in love (and more) who is revealed to have a heart, and Nadine Higgin would raise the roof with her feisty, crowd-pleasing performance as Paulette, the randy hairdresser of bend-and-snap fame — if this alfresco venue had a roof to raise. (Oddly, her mock “Riverdance” moves don’t really land this time, perhaps because that cultural phenomenon no longer has the same prominence.)The other night, the cast as a whole sounded somewhat tinny, especially at the start, as if perhaps battling the intense amplification needed to counter the noise of helicopters overhead and the like. But an initial feeling of excess subsides as the evening continues toward a second half that gives Ellen Kane, the choreographer, a chance to let rip.“Whipped Into Shape” allows Lauren Drew’s Brooke her moment of stage glory as a murder suspect who turns out to be the fiercest of fitness trainers. And the ensemble number “Gay or European?” — a potentially provocative song that the cast treats with such cheerful absurdity that you can hardly imagine it causing offense — exists alongside a passing reference to Beyoncé, whose singular moves would seem to have inspired the company as a whole.Bowman charms throughout in a casting gamble that pays off. “I had to find my way,” Elle says at the end, and you have to commend a theater culture that has led this performer to this role, even if Bowman, too, has probably had to navigate unpleasantness in the process. As Elle could have told her, determination and talent, happily, can win the day.On another stage in this city, a second, even more time-tested musical is being viewed afresh. “Oklahoma!,” at the Young Vic through June 25, brings to London the startling reappraisal of the 1943 Rodgers and Hammerstein classic that won a 2019 Tony for best revival. The London iteration is even more impressive than the performance I saw at St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn. Directed by Daniel Fish and Jordan Fein, the production combines several members of the New York company with some welcome newcomers, both American and British, including the Broadway actress Marisha Wallace, who has a riotous time as the libidinous Ado Annie, the good-time gal who famously “cain’t say no.”From left, Greg Hicks, Marisha Wallace and James Davis in “Oklahoma!,” directed by Daniel Fish and Jordan Fein at the Young Vic.Marc BrennerA particular revelation is the English actress-singer Anoushka Lucas as Laurey, the farm girl who catches the eye of both Curly (Arthur Darvill), the swaggering cowboy who opens the show with “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’,” and Jud Fry (a sad-eyed Patrick Vaill), the obsessive, desperately lovesick farmhand. Lucas brings a palpable anxiety to the role that emphasizes an underlying darkness to material we may first think of as buoyant. The story, as ever, relates who will get to take Laurey to the box social, but it exists within a more threatening context than we are used to from so traditionally upbeat a musical theater mainstay. (The jubilant exclamation point of the title isn’t there by accident.)You quickly note the guns in full view on the set, which in turn link up to a climactic act of violence not found in the time-honored plot: The rejiggered ending — not to be revealed here — connects with a United States now as ever in the woeful path of gunfire. The glorious songs are intact (Lucas, in particular, does her numbers proud), but the production is inseparable from the superlative Vaill’s indrawn and wounding presence.If you exit “Legally Blonde” cheered by its giddy finale, this “Oklahoma!,” to its credit, makes you question those worrying recesses of human behavior that are beyond the realm of punctuation.Legally Blonde. Directed by Lucy Moss. Open Air Theater, Regent’s Park, through July 2.Oklahoma! Directed by Daniel Fish and Jordan Fein. Young Vic, through June 25. More

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    Brontez Purnell Brings His Disparate Parts Back to the Dance Stage

    “Dance is basically language, like another form of writing,” said Purnell, the author of “100 Boyfriends.” He is bringing a new solo piece to Performance Space New York.“I’m such a Cancer,” Brontez Purnell said. “Double Sagittarius too. Just so pointlessly optimistic.”With so many projects happening at once, Purnell, 40, has no reason not to be. Though he has been creating music, films, dance pieces and written works for years, it was his 2021 book, “100 Boyfriends,” that gave him a heightened cultural visibility. Part memoir, part novel, part ethnographic study, the book creates an impressive, no-holds-barred map of his sexual adventures and misadventures in Northern California and earned him a Lambda Literary Award for gay fiction, awarded this week. He maps those experiences back onto his body, a site of his art, as evidenced by his stunning array of tattoos.With Purnell, who was born in Alabama and now lives in the Bay Area, there is practically no distinction between body, mind and spirit, a unity that informs his dancing. Much like his writing, his onstage presence is so liberated it’s almost confrontational. And while he can be unrestrained, it’s always informed by rigor. He worked as a go-go dancer while studying contemporary dance with the modern dance pioneer Anna Halprin, and other Bay Area choreographers; in 2010, he established the Brontez Purnell Dance Company.During the pandemic, his dance practice took a back seat to writing projects. But now he’s back, with his first evening-length solo dance piece, “Invisible Trial,” which premieres this week at Performance Space New York in Manhattan. Based on a paranoid short story by Sylvia Plath, the 40-minute dance loosely follows the nervy receptionist of a mental health clinic, who works under the watchful eye of the God of Anxiety.The work, which Purnell describes as “an intense condensing of structure, sculpture and text,” features a soundscape of original music and spoken passages from Plath’s story. On a minimalist set — with rope, bedding, a reception’s desk — the performance sees him cycle from tinsel-covered headpieces to office wear to full nudity.Purnell rehearsing at Performance Space New York. He describes “Invisble Trial” as “an intense condensing of structure, sculpture and text.”Laylah Amatullah Barrayn for The New York TimesPurnell has enlisted dramaturgical help from the playwright Jeremy O. Harris. Purnell’s longtime collaborator, Larry Arrington, a dancer and astrologer, did the choreography.“My role was more about supporting Brontez as he fleshed his ideas out, and constantly shower him with as much love and care as possible,” Arrington said in a Zoom interview, a framed photo of Purnell in blurry motion behind her. “You look at what he puts out and wonder how he takes all these disparate parts to make something beautiful and epic. How does one person contain this much kinetic spark?”In a quiet room at Performance Space New York, Purnell talked about his relationship to Plath, dance and the eternal martyrdom of the artist. Here are edited excerpts from the conversation.What has it been like returning to dance?I spent quarantine finishing my new sci-fi novel, and my new poetry collection, and had forgotten that dance is basically language, like another form of writing. It was time for me to put my body onstage again, to remind myself that I live in a body. The whole point of performance is to reignite the body. It’s a very important spiritual practice.Tell me about you and Sylvia Plath.I started reading her in, like, sixth grade. I had this teacher who gave me books, and they didn’t know what to give this little gay boy, you know, so they just gave me Sylvia Plath. She has this poem called “Mushrooms.” I don’t know, I had a rough childhood, and I just remember the last line stuck with me: “We shall by morning/Inherit the earth/Our foot’s in the door.”What about the Plath story, “Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams,” draws your attention?It’s whip-smart, and beatnik-y, and I think really cemented Plath’s voice. It seems very autobiographical because she got electroshock therapy, and the story ends with the narrator getting it after her boss finds her snooping through the clinic’s files. It’s very tense, and she kind of sets herself up as a Christ figure, with the crown of thorns being the electroshock thing.Are you a martyr?Yes, but a really lazy one.You have all of this amazing body art, and so much of your writing is about using your body as memory. I feel like that’s martyr adjacent?I’m doing it so no one else has to. I’ll go do the dirty work and report back, you don’t have to worry about all this. Somebody said that about me in a review once, and I thought that was really funny. It was like, “Brontez is doing all your drugs; smoking crack; [expletive] your boyfriend, and your boyfriend’s boyfriend; drinking your vodka — all so that you don’t have to.”In “Invisible Trial,” Purnell goes from tinsel-covered headpieces to office wear to full nudity.Laylah Amatullah Barrayn for The New York TimesYou’ve been trying to do this piece for 10 years. What held it up?I’ve never had time or given myself permission to do a solo, and this was something that I always wanted to do right, and with support. The San Francisco dance scene is OK, but I have never gotten a whole lot of monetary support from that scene.What do you feel gave you that permission? Performance Space? The success of “100 Boyfriends”?It had been so long since I had actually danced, because of quarantine. Most of my performance art stuff became me doing this humanitarian thing where I was giving free sex shows online to men in closeted countries.How did that go?It was awesome because, you know, men in homophobic countries are so much more appreciative of you and your body. It gave me a new eye on performance, on how much of your soul you’re sharing.What about “Johnny” made you want to turn it into a dance?I’ve always liked Plath’s nervous tension; she’s essentially always writing about anxiety. Here, she’s writing about the futility of being an office worker with other dreams. A lot of the books I’ve written were done in tandem with some terrible job I had. I think the piece is this weird allegory for someone who has other, bigger dreams in life, but are kind of earthbound by their 9-to-5.Laylah Amatullah Barrayn for The New York TimesWhat did the collaborations for this look like?The dramaturgy, with Jeremy, was just a series of late night phone calls about the structure I wanted to do, and how I want to execute it. With Larry, I just gave her certain parameters.But I don’t like to stress out my collaborators too much. I prefer just setting coordinates and then going in there and dealing with it, with their voices in the back of my head. I’m a bit anti-authoritarian, so you can tell me what to do, but not too much. Once you ask someone to choreograph and you ask someone to be a dramaturge, you’re basically asking someone to change your diaper and spank you.Why the new title, “Invisible Trial”?It’s about the idea that there are unforeseen actions happening all around you, dictating your behavior. For instance, if there’s a shadow campaign against you, do you actively confront that? Or do you keep just living your regular life and let the universe sort it out? Every time you bring it up, are you bringing something to the attention of people who had no clue? Now you’ve really put yourself in the spotlight. More

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    Shauneille Perry Ryder, Pioneering Theater Director, Dies at 92

    As a Black woman, she blazed a path Off Broadway with an intuitive grasp of “how a story should be told, particularly a Black story,” Giancarlo Esposito said.Shauneille Perry Ryder, an actress, playwright and educator who was one of the first Black women to direct plays Off Broadway, most notably for the New Federal Theater, died on June 9 at her home in New Rochelle, N.Y. She was 92.Her daughter Lorraine Ryder confirmed the death.Ms. Perry Ryder, who was known professionally as Shauneille (pronounced shaw-NELL) Perry, directed 17 plays at the New Federal Theater from 1971 to 2006, each a part of the company’s mission to integrate artists of color and women into mainstream American theater. The theater, founded in 1970 by Woodie King Jr. in Lower Manhattan and now housed on West 42nd Street, has been a mecca for Black actors and directors.“She was personable with actors, but she put her foot down,” Mr. King said in a phone interview, referring to her attention to detail. “I’m so glad she worked with New Federal. She gave us a great reputation. In our first 10 years, we had a hit each year, and at least three or four were directed by Shauneille Perry.”In 1982, she directed Rob Penny’s “Who Loves the Dancer,” about a young Black man (played by Giancarlo Esposito) growing up in 1950s Philadelphia who dreams of becoming a dancer but who is trapped by his mother’s expectations, his environment and racism.In The New York Times, the critic Mel Gussow wrote that the play “has an inherent honesty, and in Shauneille Perry’s production, the evening is filled with conviction.”Mr. Esposito, who had been directed earlier that year by Ms. Perry Ryder in another play, “Keyboard,” at the New Federal, recalled her “very intuitive expression of how a story should be told, particularly a Black story.”“I was a young, green actor who had chops,” he added, in a phone interview, “but she taught me that acting is physical. The explosion that comes out of me in the second act came together under her direction.”Ms. Perry Ryder also directed Phillip Hayes Dean’s “Paul Robeson,” which traces the life of the titular singer and social crusader; “Jamimma,” by Martie Evans-Charles, about a young woman who changes her name because of its connection to servility and who is devoted to a man who she is told will never do much more than “wear rags or play instruments”; and “Black Girl,” by J.E. Franklin, about three generations of Black women, including a teenager who yearns to dance.“If you’re Black, you know about these people in any city,” Ms. Perry Ryder told The Times in 1971, referring to the characters in “Black Girl.” “We are all a part of each other.”She won at least two Audelco Awards from the Audience Development Committee, which honors Black theater and artists, and in 2019 received the Lloyd Richards Director’s Award from the National Black Theater Festival, in Winston-Salem, N.C., named after the Tony-winning director of many of August Wilson’s plays.Shauneille Gantt Perry was born on July 26, 1929, in Chicago. Her father, Graham, was one of the first Black assistant attorneys general in Illinois; her mother, Pearl (Gantt) Perry, was a pioneering Black court reporter in Chicago. Lorraine Hansberry, who wrote “A Raisin the Sun,” was one of Shauneille’s cousins.While attending Howard University — where she received a bachelor’s degree in drama in 1950 — Ms. Ryder Perry belonged to a student theater group, the Howard Players, which performed Ibsen’s “The Wild Duck” and Strindberg’s “Miss Julie” on a tour of Scandinavia at the invitation of the Norwegian government. “We were the only Black company to tour those marvelous countries,” she told The Record of Hackensack, N.J., in 1971.She earned a Master of Fine Arts degree in 1952 at the Goodman School of Drama at the Art Institute of Chicago (now a part of DePaul University). As a Fulbright scholar in 1954, she studied at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London. Dissatisfied with the curriculum, however (“they were always doing ‘Cleopatra,’” she said), she transferred to the London Academy of Music & Dramatic Art.Back in Chicago she began acting — she was in a summer stock play, “Mamba’s Daughters,” with Ethel Waters — while also writing for the Black newspaper The Chicago Defender. In 1959, while on a trip to Paris that she had won through an Ebony magazine essay contest, she met the author Richard Wright, who, she recalled, asked her, “They still lynching people back in the States?”“I remember telling him, ‘They do it a little differently there today,’” she told The Times in 1971. But the next day she read about a Black man who had been accused of rape and taken forcibly to a jail cell; his body was later found floating in a river. “I kept wondering to myself,” she said, “‘What is that man saying about my analysis of things?’”And she wondered what she would do when she got home.At first she continued acting. She appeared in various Off Broadway plays, including Josh Greenfeld’s “Clandestine on the Morning Line” (1961), with James Earl Jones, in which a pregnant young woman (Ms. Perry Ryder) from Alabama strolls into a restaurant looking for the father of her child.Edith Oliver, reviewing the play in The New Yorker, praised Ms. Perry Ryder’s “lovely performance,” writing that she gave her role “such quiet, innocent strength and apparent unawareness of the character’s pathos that we almost forget it, too.”Frustrated with the roles she was offered, Ms. Perry Ryder turned to directing, first at the Negro Ensemble Company in New York, with a workshop production of Ms. Franklin’s “Mau Mau Room.”“I got the feeling that maybe there’s a place for me,” she told The Times.Two years later, she directed “The Sty of the Blind Pig” for the Negro Ensemble Company. In the drama, a blind street singer in 1950s Chicago goes to a house on the South Side looking for a woman he once knew.Emory Lewis wrote in his review in The Record that Ms. Perry Ryder “had marshaled her actors with loving attention to period detail and nuance.”Ms. Perry Ryder, left, in 1971 while directing “Black Girl,” a play by J. E. Franklin, right, about three generations of Black women. Produced by the New Federal Theater, it was staged at the Theater de Lys on Christopher Street in Lower Manhattan. Bert Andrews Her theater work continued for more than 40 years, including writing and directing “Things of the Heart: Marian Anderson’s Story,” about the brilliant Black contralto; directing and rewriting the book for a 1999 revival of “In Dahomey,” the first Broadway musical, originally staged in 1903, written by African Americans; and writing a soap opera for a Black radio station in New York City.In 1986, Ms. Perry Ryder joined the faculty of Lehman College in the Bronx, where she taught theater and ran the drama program. At Lehman, she staged “Looking Back: The Music of Micki Grant,” a revue based on Ms. Grant’s theatrical works, which include “Don’t Bother Me, I Can’t Cope.” She retired in 2001.In addition to Lorraine Ryder, Ms. Perry Ryder is survived by two other daughters, Gail Perry-Ryder Tigere and Natalie Ryder Redcross, and four grandchildren. Her husband, Donald Ryder, an architect, died in 2021. More

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    Interview: Shining A Female Light on Diversifications

    Kaara Benstead on bringing Diversifications to Old Red Lion

    Diversifications is a female centric play about three women who meet in the waiting room to receive the results of their genetic testing. Each has something that the others desire; children, career or freedom. And all desire change.

    A year on from that first encounter, their husbands and partners meet, this time to examine the choices the three women made on that fateful day one year ago.

    The play promises to look at the male versus female perspective on topics as wide ranging as marriage, love and parenthood. And it promises to do so with plenty of humour, however serious life may get.

    Ahead of opening at Old Red Lion on 16 June (tickets here), we caught up with the show’s producer Kaara Benstead to find out more.

    What attracted you to the script originally and made you want to produce this play?

    I really liked the journey the play takes you on through each of the couple’s stories. I also liked that two of the female characters are 40+ and 50+ in age range, as I do not think there are enough acting roles for the older female. The play made me feel all different emotions as there are laugh out loud moments even with the play being about a serious subject. I wanted to produce it as I wanted to have an all female creative team and I do not feel there are enough working class female producers in the industry.

    The play is described as female centric, does that mean it explores its themes very much from a female perspective?

    You do get to hear the men’s perspective and also what each couple went through and the different dynamics in the relationship. It is female centric as it is about the women’s choices and why they made those choices.

    Without giving too many spoilers, it appears that the three women don’t survive to the end of the play, does this make it a sad play or can you still be upbeat and celebratory even when there appears to be so much death present?

    The audience knows from the beginning of the play that the women are dead, as the men meet on the anniversary of Samantha’s death to try and understand why the women made the choices that they did. The play has a whole range of emotions including a lot of laughter as we explore the relationships between the couples, the women and the men. The characters are very relatable and I think people will resonate with the different characters and their approach to life.

    As producer, how much input do you have in how a play develops?

    I have been onboard with the project since 2020 and we have had two read-throughs, one on zoom, one with an audience. I have been a part of all the organising from finding a theatre, to finding the cast with help from Jane Frisby Casting. Sitting in on auditions, finding the creative team, finding a rehearsal venue and all the little things in between. Natalie Ekberg (the writer) has been a massive support with everything and we have regular meetings to make sure everything that needs to be done is getting done. I am also performing in the role of Corinna, so now we are in rehearsals that is when I focus on the acting in the rehearsal room and leave Jess (Barton) is in charge!

    That’s Jess Barton from Fight or Flight who is directing, what does she bring to the play that made you want her onboard?

    We had been looking for a Director for a while but none of them felt right. Jess came recommended first through a theatre contact (Miranda Harrison from Page to Stage) and then through The Old Vic’s call for theatre professionals on Twitter. We reached out to Jess and sent her the play. When we met afterwards, to discuss it, we were impressed how much Jess ‘got’ the play. She connected instantly to the topics we were exploring, she found the play funny yet emotional, she appreciated the pace we were aiming for and she was up for the challenge that the play offered – connecting multiple time lines through multiple characters, who never leave the stage!

    I felt from the beginning of the process that we needed a female Director. With Jess, we didn’t need to explain any intentions behind specific lines, she understood it all instantly.

    And what is it you hope the play will say to its audience, and what they will be discussing back in the pub over a drink come the end?

    When the play was first performed as a short play, the organisers of the evening had to halt the debate that followed. The whole premise of the play is about life choices. We believe the audience would discuss why the characters made their decisions and whether they were justified. They will discuss if they, as individuals, understand and support these choices or whether they condemn them. There will be parts of the audience who will disagree with the actions of some of the characters and that’s ok with us. We want to have a debate. We want the audience to think about the fact that we should pursue our dreams in life while we can and not wait for a specific moment.

    Many thanks to Kaara for taking time away from both producing and rehearsals for Diversifications. The play opens at Old Red Lion 16 June and plays until 2 July. Further information and tickets can be found here. More

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    Review: In ‘Queen,’ the Numbers Don’t Always Add Up

    Two ambitious scientists are concerned with honey bees in this heady and data-heavy new play, a production of the National Asian American Theater Company.Math is a tool to make sense of the way things work. A minuscule discrepancy becomes the catalyst for a crisis in “Queen,” a heady and data-heavy new play by Madhuri Shekar that opened on Tuesday night at the A.R.T./New York Mezzanine Theater. A hair’s breadth deviation upends not just the outcome of a yearslong study, but how a team of scientists conceive of themselves and life’s purpose.The title refers to matriarchal honey bees, whose declining population is the problem a group of researchers aims to solve. We’re at the University of California, Santa Cruz, where two industrious Ph.D. candidates have designed a study to pinpoint pesticides as the primary culprit in what’s known as “colony collapse disorder,” or the decimation of bees. Their reputations, and the future of pollination, depends on its success.Ariel (Stephanie Janssen), an ecologist and single mom, broke up with an ex to pursue the project, risking her livelihood to take down the chemical conglomerate she blames for putting her beekeeping family out of business. Sanam (Avanthika Srinivasan) is a meticulous mathematician from India whose rich parents keep setting her up with suitors she considers a threat to her ambitions. (“Think of everything I could accomplish if I had a gay husband who would happily leave me alone!” she says, only half joking.) Their professor (Ben Livingston) just wants the numbers to add up, so he can present his students’ findings and reap most of the glory.Sanam’s latest mismatched blind date, Arvind (Keshav Moodliar), a swaggering Wall Street analyst with a surplus of smarm, at least contributes some brain power to her statistical dilemma. Their awkward first meeting leads to a late-night breakthrough in the lab (but no funny business) that further clarifies the mathematical impasse impeding the project, if not the physics that are meant to be propelling the story forward.Arvind (Keshav Moodliar), a swaggering Wall Street analyst, has an awkward first meeting with Sanam (Srinivasan) in “Queen.”Jeremy DanielThe play spends the first half of its 105-minute running time spelling out the details of the study, and the potential missteps that led to an unexpected outcome. Methodical minutiae are positioned as compelling revelations. Jargon dominates arguments about process, crowding out welcome moments of direct connection between characters, all of whom are fueled by presumptions of greatness. Throw in competition and petty jealousies — toward others in the field and among themselves — and it’s tough to find a foothold for sympathy. By the time relationships, between colleagues and lovers, become the ultimate focus, they lack the substantive evidence that would make them feel convincing.Ariel and Sanam are driven by the desire to prove themselves extraordinary, that they might even be capable of saving the world through their intellects. Maybe that’s the essential delusion at the heart of much academic enterprise, but thwarted egos alone don’t make for especially high dramatic stakes. (Nor do the unseen deaths of insects, which we’ve been conditioned to find a nuisance despite their integral role in the food supply.)The production, directed by Aneesha Kudtarkar for the National Asian American Theater Company, is slick and compact. Glass-topped desks arranged in a honeycomb formation take up much of the black box stage in this set design by Junghyun Georgia Lee, limiting the playing space to their periphery. There’s a clean versatility to the staging that suggests the efficiency of a clinical exercise, if not an especially expressive or aesthetic one.“Queen” raises sticky questions about ethics, integrity and the fallibility of accuracy in determining what’s real. But its fascination with empirical nitty-gritty comes at the expense of deeper character development and emotional resonance. Why bees? Why not bees — if observing scientists trying to save them can reveal something essential about who we are. But the conclusions that “Queen” draws are more theoretical than embodied. It takes more blood than intellect to feel a sting.QueenThrough July 1 at the A.R.T./New York Mezzanine Theater, Manhattan; naatco.org. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes. More