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    Robert Kalfin, Founder of an Adventurous Theater, Dies at 89

    For two decades, his Chelsea Theater Center was on the cutting edge with productions that could be challenging, baffling or, sometimes, Broadway bound.Robert Kalfin, the driving force behind the Chelsea Theater Center, which for two decades beginning in 1965 presented adventurous plays that were sometimes too innovative for the theatergoing public and sometimes successful enough that they transferred to Broadway, died on Sept. 20 at a hospice center in Quiogue, a hamlet in Southampton, N.Y. He was 89.Philip Himberg, a longtime friend, said the cause was acute myeloid leukemia.Mr. Kalfin directed countless plays in a career that began in his mid-20s and continued into his 80s. In 1965, he started the nonprofit Chelsea Theater Center and became its founding artistic director, with David Long as managing director and George Bari as production manager.They set up shop in St. Peter’s Church in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan, though a strip dance in one of its early offerings got the group tossed out of that church and forced it to move to another. Those were two of several locations it would use over the years, only some of which were in Chelsea.Mr. Kalfin thought the commercial theaters of the day were limited and unimaginative, and he strove to broaden the theatrical landscape.“The mission statement, which I came up with, which was very useful, was ‘We will do whatever nobody else is doing and what we think people ought to see,’” he said in an interview in 2014 for the Primary Stages Off-Broadway Oral History Project. “That gave me great leeway.”The Chelsea achieved particular prominence once it moved to the Brooklyn Academy of Music in 1968. Its productions there were attention-getting, to say the least. A 1969 staging of “Slave Ship,” written by Amiri Baraka (who was then known as LeRoi Jones) and directed by Gilbert Moses, took on racism, leaving Clive Barnes of The New York Times rattled.“The play is set in the hold of a ship and the conscience of a nation,” Mr. Barnes wrote in his review.“The play ends with the symbolic destruction of white America,” he added. “Whitey is got — Black Panther banners are unfurled. This scared and horrified me. I am whitey.”In 1971, The Times wrote an article about Mr. Kalfin’s troupe that carried the headline “America’s Most Exciting New Theater?” Its productions for the rest of that decade cemented its stature as one of the scene’s leading innovators.In 1973, the Chelsea revived the Leonard Bernstein operetta “Candide,” which had failed on Broadway in the 1950s, and gave it a new book, by Hugh Wheeler. Harold Prince directed, and the result was a smash in Brooklyn that became the group’s first transfer to Broadway, where it ran for almost two years.Another great success was “Strider,” Mark Rozovsky’s play with music based on a Tolstoy story about a piebald horse that is tormented because of its appearance. Mr. Kalfin first saw it in Leningrad, and in 1979 he staged an English-language version at the Westside Theater on West 43rd Street. It drew a strong review from Mel Gussow in The Times.“We are transported by the ingenuousness and the originality of the show,” he wrote. “Looking closely, we even notice a grittiness that might have been appreciated by Brecht and Weill. The play works on two levels, as a kind of Tolstoyan ‘Black Beauty’ — downbeat but finally inspirational — and as a valid commentary on the injustices of civilization.”That show, directed by Mr. Kalfin and Lynne Gannaway, transferred to Broadway and ran there for six months.By then Mr. Kalfin was seeing a change in theater audiences, one that his company had helped bring about.“There’s a whole new generation of theatergoers, and they have become elitist in a very positive way,” he told The Times that November as “Strider” was beginning its Broadway run. “I think they’re bored to death with television, and they’re more demanding of theater now because they’re so hungry for nourishment.”A scene from the Chelsea Theater Center’s production of Amiri Baraka’s “Slave Ship” in 1969. The play’s ending, the Times critic Clive Barnes wrote, “scared and horrified me.”Deidi von Schaewen, via BAM Hamm ArchivesRobert Zangwill Kalfin was born on April 22, 1933, in the Bronx. His father, Alfred, was a real estate developer, and his mother, Hilda Shulman Kalfin, was a teacher.His childhood memories were of being taken not to the theater but to the Metropolitan Opera, where he and his parents generally ended up in the cheap seats, high up and off to the side.“My father would hold onto the back of my pants while I leaned over trying to see center stage,” he said in the oral history.He studied music at the High School of Music & Art in Manhattan (now the Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School for Music & Art and Performing Arts). As a theater major at Alfred University in central New York, he became part of an ambitious department that was staging Bertolt Brecht and other European writers and experimenting with unusual settings — he was in a production of “Androcles and the Lion” that was staged in a gymnasium transformed to look like a Roman arena.He earned his master’s degree in 1957 at the Yale School of Drama and settled into odd jobs in New York, working for a time in the shipping department at WOR-TV and as a production assistant on a children’s television show in Newark, N.J., that starred a chimpanzee.He directed his first Off Broadway production, “The Golem,” in 1959, at St. Mark’s Playhouse. His other early efforts included “The Good Soldier Schweik” in 1963, which didn’t go well — a producer interfered so intrusively that Mr. Kalfin withdrew before opening night and sought unsuccessfully to stop the production from opening. When it did, William Glover of The Associated Press called it “one of the season’s worst plays.”Mr. Kalfin, right, with Michael David, left, the executive director of the Chelsea Theater Center, and Burl Hash, the production director, in 1973.Manuel Guevaza Jr.At the Chelsea, Mr. Kalfin sometimes left audiences and critics scratching their heads. That was the case with a 1970 musical called “Tarot,” which he staged in Brooklyn. As the credits read, it was conceived by The Rubber Duck and directed jointly by “Mr. Duck” (as The Times called him, tongue in cheek) and Mr. Kalfin.Mr. Barnes hated it. “Pretentiousness is rioting at the Brooklyn Academy of Music,” his review began. Yet the Chelsea was respected enough by then that even in that pan, Mr. Barnes felt compelled to note that the group was facing one of its frequent financial crises at the time, and that “it simply must not be allowed to die.”The group did peter out in the mid-1980s, swamped with debt. Before it did, its other notable successes included “Yentl the Yeshiva Boy,” based on an Isaac Bashevis Singer story of a Jewish girl who passes as a boy; Mr. Kalfin had it adapted for the stage by Leah Napolin and directed it. It opened in Brooklyn in December 1974.It was a tough road to opening night. Mr. Kalfin clashed with Tovah Feldshuh, who played the title character, and withstood complaints from Orthodox Jewish leaders; he also had to strike a deal with Barbra Streisand, who owned the rights to the Singer story, which she would turn into a film in 1983. But the play moved to Broadway, where it ran for 223 performances.Mr. Bari, Mr. Kalfin’s life partner, died in 2013. Mr. Kalfin, who had lived in East Hampton, N.Y., leaves no immediate survivors.After the Chelsea gave up the ghost, Mr. Kalfin continued to direct in New York and in regional houses; he was still working until recently. One of his post-Chelsea projects in New York was directing a Yiddish version of “Yentl” produced by the Folksbiene Yiddish Theater in 2002. Eleanor Reissa played the title role.“Even though he’d directed maybe a hundred shows, every time was like the first,” Ms. Reissa, who had worked with Mr. Kalfin on other shows as well, said by email. “Wide eyed and wide hearted always, infectious joyfulness.” More

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    Review: ‘Death of a Salesman’ on Broadway Makes the Lomans New Again

    Wendell Pierce and Sharon D Clarke star in a powerful revival of Arthur Miller’s drama, led by a Black cast.A deeply original work that is also deeply influential may yet in time be trite. What once opened eyes comes to seem preloaded behind them, as if part of the general human inheritance.Such has been the ironic trajectory of Arthur Miller’s “Death of a Salesman.” When it premiered on Broadway in 1949, with its depiction of the false hopes of capitalism and the family dysfunction left in its wake, there were fathers for whom “the doctor had to be called because they couldn’t stop crying,” the director Mike Nichols, who saw it then, said. “It was like an explosion.”As “Salesman” spread into the culture with astonishing speed, it helped introduce the seismic re-evaluations of the ensuing decades. But now that we take those shocks to be self-evident, the job of making the play feel as new as it once did is a difficult one for those who would revive it. “Willy Loman” has long since become shorthand for the “low man” in the pecking order. And everyone for whom it was required high school reading already knows the story: how a washed-up salesman’s delusions about American success destroy not just his own life but also those of his wife, Linda, and their sons, Happy and Biff.Short of stunt casting or radical resetting, directors must therefore dig either deeper or wider. Nichols’s 2012 Broadway production, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and Linda Emond as Willy and Linda, went deeper, examining the work with microscopic precision and even replicating Jo Mielziner’s original set design and Alex North’s music. The result was a very powerful mounting, and I use the word advisedly: It sometimes seemed like an exhibit.From left, Khris Davis as Biff Loman, McKinley Belcher III as Happy Loman and Sharon D Clarke as Linda Loman.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe latest Broadway revival, which opened on Sunday at the Hudson Theater, goes wider, a notably rich and mostly successful approach. For the first time in a major New York production, the Lomans are played by Black actors. Wendell Pierce, as Willy, is wrenching as he flails and fails to avoid his fate instead of slumping into it from the start. And Sharon D Clarke, as Linda, is so paradoxically shattering in her stoicism that she turns what is usually portrayed as unshakable loyalty into a kind of heedless comorbidity.Miranda Cromwell’s revival, based on one she directed in London with Marianne Elliott in 2019, does more than give us Black Lomans — including Khris Davis as Biff and McKinley Belcher III as Happy. It also, crucially, puts them in a largely white world. Willy’s employer (Blake DeLong), his neighbor (Delaney Williams) and his mistress (Lynn Hawley) are thus more than foils in the usual sense; like Willy, you can never untangle the personal, economic and now racial threads of their behavior. And even if they aren’t bigots, they electrify moments — a card game with the neighbor, a negotiation with the “boss” — in which Willy’s paranoia seems at the same time both fantastical and well founded.It’s even more astonishing that the production achieves this effect with only a few minor alterations to the dialogue. (The college that Biff, a would-be football star, hopes to attend is now U.C.L.A., instead of the University of Virginia, where the first Black student was not admitted until 1950 — and even then, only after a lawsuit.) Likewise, though the play’s web of urban imagery, much written about in A.P. English essays, is duly honored in Anna Fleischle’s skeletal set design, it gets new life when seen in the light of the redistricting and gentrification that squeezed many people like the Lomans out of their homes.It’s therefore central to the effectiveness of the casting that it’s not colorblind. Neither the Black nor the white actors ignore race; they mine it, bringing their characters to fully specific and vivid life. Willy’s mistress has an ear-bending working-class white Boston accent. The oddly formal patois (“Nobody dast blame this man”) of the good-hearted neighbor Charley marks him as a clear outsider. (Williams is excellent in the part.) And Biff and Happy’s take on trash-talking, no less than Linda’s maternal don’t-cross-me commandments — “Attention must be finally paid!” — awakens lines you’ve heard innumerable times, asserting their implacable realness.André De Shields, in a terrifying performance, plays the ghost of Willy’s older brother, Ben.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThat awakening reaches a theatrical climax in André De Shields’s terrifying performance as the ghost of Willy’s older brother, Ben. Though dressed like Liberace in a white suit and crystal-studded shoes — the costumes are by Fleischle and Sarita Fellows — he makes every utterance sound like an elaborate curse. When he warns Biff not to “fight fair with a stranger, boy. You’ll never get out of the jungle that way,” he puts such a troubling spin on the words “boy” and “jungle” that you feel you should duck.But what works to ground and intensify the performances does not always work for the production overall. Cromwell’s use of expressionistic devices like silhouettes and frozen poses to suggest Willy’s fragmenting consciousness seems obvious and unmoored, an intrusion of acquired Polaroid memories. And though the wistful music by Femi Temowo — including a beautiful spiritual-like setting of “When the Trumpets Sound” — sets the mood for the impending tragedy, it confuses the tone when used for comic effect, or worse, solace. There is no solace in “Salesman.”In general, the balance of light and dark in this very dark play does not yet feel natural. Biff and Happy, in Willy’s memory, are not just boyish, but clichés of boyishness; aiming to solve this textual problem by underlining it, Cromwell’s direction makes it worse. On the other hand, Willy himself is often so unrelievedly monstrous that you sometimes can’t see past it to the monstrosity of American business that Miller means to indict.Yet nothing can stop the engine of the final scenes, sparking and huffing and pushing the play into great drama. As the lies that bind at last come undone, we see each of the trapped family members liberated to choose life or death or a combination thereof. (The play’s last words, after all, are “We’re free.”) They have nothing left to sell. If you believe, as Nichols said in 2012, that “now everyone in America is a salesman,” you may even feel a shiver of recognition. Made new and unfamiliar once again in this production, the Lomans look like all of us.Death of a SalesmanThrough Jan. 15 at the Hudson Theater, Manhattan; salesmanonbroadway.com. Running time: 3 hours 10 minutes. More

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    Review: ‘Hamilton’ in German? It’s a Thrill.

    The hit musical arrived in Hamburg with its verve, ingenuity and idealism intact. And it gains unexpected depth from being staged in Germany.HAMBURG, Germany — Early on in “Hamilton,” Aaron Burr offers the founding father of the title some “free advice”: “Talk less. Smile more.”In the German-language premiere of the blockbuster musical that opened here on Thursday, that line is one of the few retained in English — and a flummoxed Hamilton immediately asks what those words mean.There’s a slinking, mischievous irony to Burr’s advice. This is one of the wordiest musicals in the history of theater, a show so drunk on the exuberance of its language that it almost never stops to catch its breath. As much as it is a musical tour de force, “Hamilton” is a love letter to the English language’s tonal richness and malleability. So, when Hamilton prompts Burr for a translation in this early exchange, it teasingly registers as a meta-commentary on the artistic challenges facing the production — and as both a taunt and a dare.The “Hamilton” cast in Hamburg comes from 13 countries, including Brazil, the Philippines and the United States.Johan PerssonEver since a German-language version of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Pulitzer and Tony-winning “Hamilton” was announced, a number of urgent questions have swirled about. How, in God’s name, could this, of all musicals, convince in German, a language with a vastly different syntax and repertoire of sounds? In a theater landscape that lacks diversity, where would producers find the mammoth multiracial cast the show requires? And why should German audiences even care about the story of an American founding father whose likeness on the $10 bill most here would not even recognize?A lot could have gone wrong. So I’m pleased to report that “Hamilton” has transferred to Hamburg with its verve, ingenuity, idealism and courage intact. The show here is every bit as electrifying as the one currently running on Broadway, and it gains unexpected depth from being performed in Germany, and auf Deutsch.Perhaps most fundamentally, this “Hamilton” is a masterpiece of translation. The translating team of Kevin Schroeder and Sera Finale spent four years working on the German version of Miranda’s densely wordy and rhythmically propulsive lyrics. (In the end, Miranda vetted the final version of each line himself). The result is some of the most vivid, fresh-faced and dynamic German I’ve heard in the theater in a long time. Schroeder and Finale approached their herculean assignment with unstinting resourcefulness and shrewd musical instinct.The punning, exuberant text results in a genuinely German version, a “Hamilton” eminently, entirely at home in the language. Nearly every word in translation rings true.This makes it possible for the large cast to convincingly inhabit both show’s musical landscape — with its mix of hip hop, R&B, pop and show tunes — as well as its inner world. Although David Korins’s brick-and-wood set is identical to the one used in the six English-language productions, directed by Thomas Kail and currently running worldwide, the performers succeed in making it their own. Indeed, the German cast seems to rejuvenate the 7-year-old show, whose haunting lighting by Howell Binkley, frequently stage rotations and energetic, near-constant dancing (Andy Blankenbuehler’s Tony Award-winning choreography) mirror the torrid flow of language.Gino Emnes, center, as Aaron Burr.Johan PerssonCasting “Hamilton” in German was nearly as difficult as translating it, and the talent scouts at Stage Entertainment, the show’s producer in Hamburg, have assembled an impressive cast whose members hail from 13 countries. The Broadway-caliber performers bring the requisite bluster, lyricism and wit to their assignments. And they all get that, fundamentally, “Hamilton” is a show about collective energy and cooperation — the hard work of democracy — rather than showboating.Benet Monteiro, who is from Brazil, plays Hamilton with wiry, coiled-up energy. He’s a man constantly overheated, which is what makes him tick, and is his tragic flaw. Gino Emnes, who is Dutch, is charismatic and elegant as Burr. Daniel Dodd-Ellis, an American, does double duty as Lafayette (with an outrageous French accent) and Jefferson. Another American, Charles Simmons, cut a striking figure as Washington.The late 18th-century America of “Hamilton” is very much a guy’s world, but the show has a trio of finely drawn female characters, sung here by the lyrically accomplished Berlin-born Ivy Quainoo (as Eliza Hamilton), the American-born Chasity Crisp (Angelica Schuyler) and the Filipino-Swiss actress Mae Ann Jorolan (as Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds).If the translation is a rare artistic accomplishment, this casting feels like a milestone in this country. Theaters throughout the German-speaking world — both commercial theaters and the publicly funded playhouses common throughout Germany, Austria and Switzerland — have not made the push for onstage diversity that companies in the United States and Britain have. And these countries are as not as ethnically homogeneous as they are often taken for; indeed, they are all becoming less white and more diverse. Even so, the theater scene here has been slow to adapt to reflect this emerging demographic reality. With few exceptions, the huge theater scene here remains overwhelmingly white and native-born.Charles Simmons, center, in the role of Washington.Johan Persson“Hamilton” in Germany takes on a different charge than it does in today’s America. To see the Broadway show is to be transported to a prelapsarian time before the wreckage of the Trump years, the murder of George Floyd and the Capitol Hill insurrection. In a painfully divided country, “Hamilton” can feel like a quaint artifact from a simpler time, an encapsulation of the hope, however naïve, for a colorblind society that celebrated individuality, difference and the contribution of immigrants.Sitting through the show in Hamburg, my impressions were different. Although the history in “Hamilton” is not Germany’s own, it leaped off the stage with force, immediacy and clarity. Who cares if local audiences only have a passing knowledge of the Federalist Papers or can’t tell James Madison from John Adams? “Hamilton’s” ability to transcend the specific cultural context of its inception is the ultimate proof that it is a great work of art with universal significance.Hearing Miranda’s work lent a new vitality through a new language — acted, sung and danced by a multiethnic, multinational cast, the like of which has never been assembled in Germany before — was edifying, riveting and inspiring. I hope that Hamburgers thrill to this German “Hamilton” as much as I did. They would be crazy not to.HamiltonAt the Operettenhaus in Hamburg, Germany, for an open-ended run; stage-entertainment.de. More

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    ‘Complicity’ Review: A Muddled #MeToo Drama

    A new play by Diane Davis at the New Ohio Theater addresses the topic head-on, but clumsily, our critic writes.It has been about five years since the rise of the #MeToo movement. Debate remains on the cultural shifts it has wrought and whether these shifts will last.More laws are on the books now, more men have been jailed or fined. Others have been swiftly canceled. And then uncanceled almost as quickly. But what of the people who enabled these men?This is the subject of “Complicity,” a new play by Diane Davis at the New Ohio Theater in Greenwich Village, which addresses the topic head-on, but very clumsily, as in mismatched heels. The drama concerns, though never shows, Harry Wickstone, a legendary producer, and the hold he maintains over the women and men unlucky enough to orbit him. Two of them are Tig (Katie Broad), a naïve ingénue, and Lilia (Christian Paxton), her more seasoned co-star. Five terrible minutes in a luxury hotel room send these two women on radically different paths before the play forces them back together and then tragically apart.This brief description renders “Complicity” as a more coherent work than it truly is. Its story arcs need smoothing, its characters clarifying, even in their basic details. Tig has a sister, Sima (Nadia Sepsenwol), equally inexperienced, who somehow acts as her agent. What official role does Nigel (Zach Wegner), Harry’s fixer, play at the studio and what does he want of Lilia? (Tonia E. Anderson plays a television host: Christian Prins Coen and Ben Faigus appear in several small roles.) Davis struggles to illustrate how Hollywood works, how people work. But it’s less of a struggle than a slap fight, without clear winners.Katie Broad, left, and Nadia Sepsenwol, as sisters. The play is less of a struggle than a slap fight, without clear winners.Ashley Garrett PhotographyUnder Illana Stein’s direction, little gels. Some scenes, like a talk show sequence, are played for realism. Some, like the women’s various breakdowns, are played with an embarrassing expressionist bent. Rarely do these scenes convince. Overacting is rampant, presumably with Stein’s encouragement. Even when the actors aren’t speaking, they cycle through various expressions. At times the actors seem to be in entirely different productions — one playing a scene sincerely, one archly.It is an unhappy irony that in a play about collusion they could not collude on a house style. The design is more coherent, but only in the slapdash sense that the producers seem to have skimped on budget and time. Scenes are underlit, projections of time and place appear and disappear before they can be read. The cheap costumes are a puzzle with few satisfying solutions, the sets wincingly flimsy.Here is one more irony. Five years on, amid the noisy and bad-faith hand-wringing of whether the movement has gone too far or not far enough, the producer Harvey Weinstein’s case stands firm. So many women came forward and their stories were presented with such lucidity and compassion by journalists — New York Times journalists among them — that his guilt was substantiated, despite his great power.Women, finally, were believed. Punishment was meted out. As stories like these go, this stands as the surest, plainest, least ambiguous story imaginable. And even so, “Complicity” blunders so much in its telling.ComplicityThrough Oct. 15 at the New Ohio Theater, Manhattan; newohiotheatre.org. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. More

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    Review: ‘1776,’ When All Men, and Only Men, Were Created Equal

    A revival of the musical about the Declaration of Independence underlines the gender imbalance among the Founding Fathers — and everything else.A transformation that’s either wondrous or scandalous, depending on your taste, occurs less than a minute into the Roundabout Theater Company’s otherwise disappointing Broadway revival of “1776.”Barely a line has been uttered or a note sung when the performers, who identify as female, transgender and nonbinary, and are wearing more-or-less contemporary streetwear, hike up their black tights and white socks to simulate breeches, don buckle shoes in place of clunky boots, step into frock coats of various colonial cuts and become (thanks to Emilio Sosa’s outstanding costume design) our Founding Fathers. That includes Elizabeth A. Davis, who makes a very visibly pregnant Thomas Jefferson.Though some will see the casting — which is diverse not just in gender but also in race and ethnicity — as a stunt and a travesty, I’m in the wondrous camp. Neither the 1969 musical nor (as “Hamilton” has proved) history itself is so frail as to crumple under new ways of looking at our theatrical and national past. Anyway, if you prefer, you can simply ignore the fact that these fathers aren’t men, and focus — or try to — on the plot, which encompasses nothing less than the months of negotiations and maneuverings that led, just barely, to the Declaration of Independence.But if you are willing to allow yourself a double vision, as the directors Jeffrey L. Page and Diane Paulus clearly hope, you can take independence a step further. The white maleness of the characters becomes a semi-translucent screen through which we see the many other people, including people like the cast, whom the Declaration never even considered.Sara Porkalob, center, as the pro-slavery Edward Rutledge, who dissects John Adams’s hypocrisy in the song “Molasses to Rum.”Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesFor me, that double vision is the best thing about the production, which opened on Thursday at the American Airlines Theater. In theory, it deepens the ideas being batted about in the hot, fetid, fly-infested Philadelphia summer. So the “obnoxious and disliked” John Adams, as played by Crystal Lucas-Perry, who is Black, is not just an abolitionist on principle but in essence. And when Sara Porkalob, as the pro-slavery Edward Rutledge, dissects Adams’s hypocrisy in the song “Molasses to Rum” — showing how the North benefits from the slave trade as well as the South — the fact that she is Filipino American both intensifies and complicates the argument.If that sort of complication were itself great theater and not just a promising premise, this “1776” might be amazing. That the production is instead so overpumped and overplayed as to be hardly comprehensible is the result of a fundamental misunderstanding of the musical, which is plenty complicated as written — if not so much in its few and often trite songs, by Sherman Edwards, then at least in Peter Stone’s book, a masterpiece of condensation without diminishment.At first dismissed as Bicentennial-era pageantry, “1776” has survived all the ensuing upheavals of American history precisely because it is, within the confines of the genre, remarkably sophisticated about the forces at play in forging a nation from colonies harboring antithetical philosophies — and in forging a musical from similarly unlikely and conflicting raw materials. An Encores! production in 2016, which featured a racially diverse cast but the usual gender assignments, showed it could be modern and yet thoughtful and moving.But the current revival seems interested in the cast’s experience at the expense of the audience’s. I can understand that impulse, especially when creating space on a major stage for actors who rarely get it.Still, the best interpretations are those that, regardless of the performer’s professional history, find feeling in the specific actions of the text rather than in their personal feelings of exclusion from it. The Broadway veteran Carolee Carmello thus creates the character of the Pennsylvania holdout John Dickinson mostly by holding back on the outrage and offering smiles and politesse in its place. And as Abigail Adams, the Broadway newcomer Allyson Kaye Daniel is gently firm and dryly touching, achieving a lovely, modest balance in those contradictions.Carolee Carmello, center, as the Pennsylvania holdout John Dickinson. She’s joined by, from left: Oneika Phillips, Gisella Adisa, Porkalob, Sushma Saha, Nancy Anderson and Eryn LeCroy.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesMore often, though, the performances are so vastly histrionic and unchecked by the social situation (this is Congress, after all) that they seem inside-out. Adams jumps on tables to make points. Patrena Murray so emphasizes Benjamin Franklin’s winky sententiousness that he seems like a joke, not a brilliant tactician. Eryn LeCroy makes of “He Plays the Violin” — a dainty minuet in which Martha Jefferson sings of her love for Thomas — a full-on psychodrama.It does not help that the new arrangements and orchestrations, aiming to refresh the songs’ profiles in the way the casting is meant to refresh the story, merely make them muddy — and make many of the lyrics unintelligible.If that’s not always a great loss, it certainly detracts from the show’s most powerful number, “Momma, Look Sharp.” A simple minor-key air sung from the point of view of a dead young soldier, it is performed here (by Salome B. Smith) as a belty anthem, complete with a moaning and heaving ensemble and a figure apparently representing Momma. (She’s looking! She’s crying!) When performers mime the emotions we should be having, the storytelling contract has been broken.Nor do Page (who is also the show’s choreographer) and Paulus (who has directed Broadway revivals of “Pippin” and “Porgy and Bess”) show much interest in the show’s humor. As some of it is ribald and sexist — probably accurately so — they prefer to defuse it by winking as if to say: Don’t worry, we don’t mean any harm. What a wasted opportunity! In dealing with such material, a nonmale cast might mean harm in the best way, forcing us to think about the character of men in their time and ours, and providing the kind of added value a regendered revival seemed to promise.Instead we get subtracted value. I don’t mean for the cast, who deserve the opportunity, or even for the theater as an industry and an ecosystem. As the historian Erica Armstrong Dunbar said in a New York Times round-table discussion about putting history onstage, there is merit in “moving people into the center of narratives who have never been there for the public to see.” I agree. And if those narratives sometimes fail, well, so do most others; we might as well be open to everything.But underlining one’s progressiveness a thousand times, as this “1776” does, will not actually convey it better; rather it turns characters into cutouts and distracts from the ideas it means to promote. The musical even shows us that. It’s only when Adams stops yelling and starts plotting that he begins to turn the tide toward ratification. Just so, theater makers should have enough faith in the principles of equity and diversity to let them speak for themselves. Are they not, as someone once put it, self-evident?1776Through Jan. 8 at the American Airlines Theater, Manhattan; roundabouttheatre.org. Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes. More

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    Interview: Fury By Name, Not By Nature

    Fury Entertainment’s Rachel Harley and Gabrielle Silvestre on new play, Des Fleurs

    The Space 25 – 29 October.

    We’ve said it plenty of times before, but it’s worth repeating. We absolutely love The Space. It is what fringe theatre should all be about, taking risks, offering support to new and emerging artists and putting on shows that can at times be wonderfully different and exciting. So it’s easy to see why Fury Entertainment were invited along with their show Des Fleurs.

    Fury Entertainment is made up of Rachel Harley and Gabrielle Silvestre, and cite their roots as feminism, queer culture, devising and fringe theatre. It sounds a perfect fit for The Space. And more than enough to make us what to find out more.

    Let’s dive straight to Des Fleurs, what can you tell us about it then?

    Des Fleurs is a new play about choice, queerness and identity. It follows Judith, an old woman facing early onset Alzheimer’s and the death of her husband John. As she argues with her children about whether or not she should move to a care home, memories from where she was a young wife and mother replay in front of her eyes. Those two time lines collide with each other and create a fuller picture of Judith, revealing what Judith was like as a young woman, the history of her relationship to her husband and to her long lost friend Georgia, and the roots of her attachment to her house.

    The play looks at the effects of early-onset Alzheimer’s, what made you want to tell a story about this subject?

    Well, long story short but I (Gabrielle) trained as a doctor before going into theatre, and when I was at Uni I studied Medical Ethics for quite a while, which remains a life-long interest for me.

    One of the four pillars of medical ethics is the respect of a person’s choice over their body, their life and their treatment; and choice is one of the big themes I wanted to explore with the play. However, when a person develops a pathology such as Alzheimer’s, sometimes their ability to make informed decision is called into question. Thing is, there will be a grey area when a person can still make informed decisions but their carers will also start making decision for them. I don’t remember seeing a play about this particular period of time so I was keen to write about it and explore the implications of it.

    And it became quite clear very early on that Alzheimer’s or dementia is an issue that affects, directly or indirectly, so many people, yet you don’t see it that often represented on stage. That was quite a big motivation as well.

    Did you have to do lots of research into the subject to ensure you portrayed it accurately?

    I referred back to my old lectures to make sure to get the medical aspect of it as close to reality as possible. We also made the choice to place ourselves relatively early in the Alzheimer’s, when symptoms are not too severe yet, so we could focus on Judith as a person and her relationship with her family. It was also a case of discussing with people around us who had been in a similar situation and getting their feedback on the successive drafts of the play.

    The play also looks at identity and queerness, how do these tie in with the central Alzheimer’s theme then?

    Actually, the queer theme came first! I identify as a queer woman, and when I started to write Des Fleurs it started with the story of a queer woman like myself. Then the story became one of a queer woman looking back on her life and this is where this Alzheimer’s theme came in.

    The queer theme is very close to my heart, and this feeds in the theme of identity a lot as well, as Judith’s queerness is a big part of who she is. And once again having as a main character a queer woman in her sixties gives me the opportunity to experiment with things I don’t often see on stage, like someone coming out to their grown-up children. I’m really passionate about queer theatre and I think one of the most important thing about it is that it’s a way for the queer community to share and pass down our stories. It seemed very appropriate to have a character literally reliving her life and passing this history to her family.

    We see you’ve got a cast of seven for this play, which is quite a number for fringe shows, how easy is it to create a show with such numbers and stick to your principle of “equal pay for equal work” – something that really should surely be the aim for all theatre companies though?

    It is quite a big cast yeah! For obvious reasons it takes more organisational efforts the bigger your cast is. Des Fleurs is built around two colliding time lines, so although they overlap not all characters interact with one another, which in turns means that we can rehearse both timelines separately. It’s a balancing act really. It’s about being able to rehearse things individually whilst also allowing the two halves of our cast to feed from what the other is doing.

    Funding has proven very difficult for everyone lately and unfortunately we didn’t get funding for this play this time around. So we’re doing everything on the basis of a profit share. It’s going to seem a bit cliché, but you’ve got to be the change you want to be in the industry. So it was a question of being absolutely transparent and straightforward with our cast, to let them know exactly what was happening and to always keep the conversation open. Everyone will be paid equally for this project, and it’s always been the case from the very start.

    To be honest we’ve also hit the lottery with our cast. The guys are really extraordinary. They’re all incredible actors and very dedicated making the play the best it can be. And very supportive as well! They’ve been a dream to work with really.

    How did you get involved with The Space then to bring this play to their stage?

    We first started to work on the production side of this play about a year ago maybe? We did an R&D on the memory scenes, then a few months later we did a development tableread of the entire play curated by FlairboxUK. Then we applied to be part of the Autumn season at the Space theatre and we got accepted! It’s really great to have the opportunity to work with them. As you’ve said, they’re a champion of new writing and they’re incredibly supportive of young companies. Plus you get to meet and link up with all the other companies of the season. It’s really a great environment to make theatre.

    Is this Fury Entertainment’s first play then?

    It is yeah! Though it’s been a long time in the making. It feels really great to finally get to share it with an audience.

    You’re putting on some workshops entitled “I can’t think straight”, what are they all about then?

    They are queer theatre workshops, free and accessible to all, and created so that queer theatre makers and allies can experiment specifically with queer characters and narratives.

    The idea came from my own experience of being in drama school. Because I identified as queer yet always got cast in straight part. I think I got to play a Lesbian for like five minutes in two years, and that’s not exaggerating, it was a five minute scene. And I had a problem connecting with my characters sometimes and just thought it was about me. Then when I started to work professionally and got to work with queer characters for the first time I noticed a massive difference because they instantly made so much sense to me. It was a Eureka moment. And that’s probably what happens all the time to straight actors playing straight characters, but for us the opportunity to play someone like us isn’t necessarily something that comes very often. So we really wanted to create a space where we could do that and play queer people.

    We’ve got three workshops lined up with the Space, on the 26, 27 and 28 October. All three of them are free and open to all. On the 27 October we’re doing a workshop on making queer theatre and putting on a queer play, coming from our experience with this show. We also want this one to be an opportunity for queer theatre makers to be able to network. On the 26 and 28 we’ll be doing queer play studies: the first one on ‘The Normal Heart’ by Larry Kramer and the second on ‘Neaptide’ by Sarah Daniels. They’re both incredible plays and they both have very strong links to queer history, so they should be very cool to play with.

    And what would you say is going to be Fury’s focus in the future then, is it just theatre you’re going to focus on, or have you got eyes on other mediums as well?

    We both trained in theatre and that’s where our first love is, but we definitely want to play with other mediums as well, and that’s always been one of our goals for Fury. Not to say too much, but we already have a short film project in the pipeline.

    As you’ve said, this play was written by one of you, is Fury’s focus going to be on your own writing, or do you envisage making works by other writers as well?

    Probably both to be honest! For our first project it definitely made sense for us to work on a play that one of us had written, and we’re both writers and we’ve got no intention to stop writing. So we’ll very likely keep making our own work over the years. But supporting emerging artists is something we’re also committed to as a company, whether they are actors, theatre makers, directors or writers. Hopefully we’ll be able to work with someone else’s words before long.

    The show plays between 25 to 29 October, are you already looking at where it goes after this run then? What are you ambitions for the play?

    Definitely! We’d love to transfer the play to another venue for a longer run, and maybe tour it later down the line. This is not the last you’re going to hear from Des Fleurs, or from Fury Entertainment for that matter!

    Our thanks to Rachel and Gabrielle of Fury Entertainment for finding time out of rehearsals to chat with us.

    Des Fleurs plays at The Space between 25 and 29 October at 7.30, plus a 2.30 matinee on the Saturday. The show will also be livestreamed on 27 October, and then be available on-demand for two weeks. Further information and bookings can be found here. More

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    Things To Do in New York: Halloween Events and Activities

    Haunt the streets at Halloween parades. Dance at a “Zombie Prom.” Or find your way through a corn maze. We’ve got you covered on how to celebrate.During Halloween, it’s OK — even encouraged — to frighten your neighbors and devour mounds of Twizzlers and candy corn without judgment. This tradition was partially halted by the pandemic, as walk-through haunted houses mutated into drive-throughs and theaters shut out viewers, while streaming services welcomed them.As in-person programming bounces back, here’s a guide to pumpkin picking, drag shows, haunted houses and more to enjoy throughout New York City with friends and family. All scare levels are welcome.Frights for the FamilyIn its 49th year, the Village Halloween Parade returns on Halloween Day with hundreds of puppeteers, dancers, artists and musicians marching — or crawling — along Greenwich Village. The parade, which begins at 7 p.m. on Sixth Avenue between Spring Street and 16th Street, encourages thousands of costumed New Yorkers to walk alongside the performers.At the annual Bronx Halloween Parade, beginning Oct. 22 at noon, Halloween enthusiasts can enjoy a similar experience as the New York Police Department marching band, the Philadelphia 76ers drum line and dozens of community organizations haunt the streets for about a half mile, from Southern Boulevard and Westchester Avenue to Dawson Street and Rogers Place, adjacent to Bill Rainey Park. The comedian Radel Ortiz will host the post-parade festivities, and all ages are encouraged to participate in a costume contest for a cash prize.Run as you are, whether in a witch costume or your racing attire, during the NYCRuns Haunted Island 5K and 10K. The race takes place early on Oct. 29, wrapping around Governors Island — twice for 10K runners — and provides age and gender-specific awards. All racers can enjoy a ferry ride, a post-race breakfast and Halloween candy. Governors Island will also host Pumpkin Point, its annual pumpkin patch and fall festival at Nolan Park (Oct. 22-23 and Oct. 29-30), where guests can enjoy pumpkin picking with a suggested donation, arts and crafts, pumpkin painting and trick-or-treating. Pumpkins that don’t find a home will be composted or donated locally to organizations combating hunger.At the Amazing Maize Maze at the Queens County Farm Museum, visitors can join a scavenger hunt through acres of towering cornstalk.Matthew BorowickAt the family-run Decker Farm on Staten Island, visitors can handpick the perfect pumpkin, hop on a tractor-towed hayride exploring the 11 acres of farmland, wander through the children’s hay maze and even chuck a gourd (exactly what it sounds like) on October weekends and Oct. 10. The farm, established in the 19th century and a designated New York City landmark, also welcomes guests for fall-themed family portraits and pumpkin painting.In the Amazing Maize Maze, located at the Queens County Farm Museum, visitors can embark on a scavenger hunt through acres of towering cornstalk on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays in October and on Oct. 10. For an added challenge, Maze by Moonlight allows visitors to venture through the path at night on four select dates, using only a flashlight to guide them.If you’re in search of a different leafy plant this season, watch “Little Shop of Horrors” Off Broadway at the Westside Theater/Upstairs, Tuesday through Sunday on select afternoons and evenings. The 40-year-old musical, created by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken, follows a bloodthirsty plant, Audrey II, that catapults a geeky flower shop assistant, Seymour, to stardom. The musical, inspired by Roger Corman’s 1960 black comedy, has since grown into one of the most produced shows in high schools nationwide. As the plant’s size multiplies, so does Seymour’s prominence. The story reminds viewers “of the special potency of grisly things that come in small, impeccably wrapped packages,” the former New York Times critic Ben Brantley wrote in a 2019 review.The streaming service Disney+ has resurrected the cult classic that follows three kooky sisters who cast spells on the unfortunate youth in the city of Salem, Mass. In Anne Fletcher’s “Hocus Pocus 2,” Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kathy Najimy reprise their witchy roles as they zap into the 21st century, summoned by a charmed candle. The sisters run amok using Roombas instead of flying broomsticks and chug anti-aging creams in a local pharmacy. A treat for the whole family, the film embraces existing fans and attracts new ones.“RuPaul’s Drag Race Night of the Living Drag” in Los Angeles last year. On Oct. 30, the drag queen Yvie Oddly will lead the show at Kings Theater in Brooklyn.Emma Mcintyre/Getty ImagesHorror With a Hint of GlamHouse of Yes, a club in Bushwick, Brooklyn, known for theatrical, sky-high performances and pulsating rhythms, has a full slate of Halloween-themed events such as “Vampire Ball” (Oct. 20) and “Zombie Prom” (Oct. 27), where guests are encouraged to dress as “bloody (bat)dies” and “gory ghouls.” A Halloween edition of the venue’s popular variety show “Dirty Circus” will begin Oct. 26 and conclude with “Absolutely: A Halloween Drag Spectacular” on Halloween night.Kings Theater will also host a night of drag queen royalty with “RuPaul’s Drag Race Night of the Living Drag,” led by Yvie Oddly, the absurdist drag queen and Season 11 winner, and featuring eight other performers in an interpretation of Dante’s “Divine Comedy.”Particularly PetrifyingThe NYC Ghosts tour visits eight to 12 locations throughout the city, including the Morris-Jumel Mansion, which served as Gen. George Washington’s headquarters during the Revolutionary War, and a Revivalist Greek brownstone called the House of Death, where Mark Twain lived for about a year. Tours range from an hour to 90 minutes and are held nightly throughout the year.For a true bloodcurdling experience, Blood Manor, a 10,000-square-foot haunted house in TriBeCa with clowns, corpse brides and cannibals, would be a good place to start. The renowned Halloween destination, where Kevin Hart and Jimmy Fallon shrieked in terror in 2016, has welcomed the fearful and fearless for more than a decade. This year, the house brings attractions like “Maggot Invasion” and “Hannibal’s Hell” as well as killer clowns and a paranormal battlefield. Attend at your own risk on weekends and select weekdays through Nov. 5.For those willing to venture outside the city, Headless Horseman Haunted Attractions, upstate in Ulster Park, guarantees a horrifying immersive experience along its 65-acre property with escape rooms, haunted houses, a corn maze and a new walk-through trail. More sinister than the special effects are the masked serial killers and squealing clowns in each dimly lit, blood-smeared room. It’s open Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings, with Children’s Days, which tone down the thrills, from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. on the second and fourth Saturday in October. More

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    In ‘Heart Strings,’ the Ties That Bind a Family (and a Culture)

    Atlantic for Kids’ new play explores sibling relationships, using the delicate weavings of a Hawaiian craft.Every good story requires a thread. Some writers have difficulty finding theirs, but not Lee Cataluna. The line that runs through her latest play, “Heart Strings,” comes from the real knots and tangles of a centuries-old Hawaiian craft.That technique, known as hei (pronounced HAY), consists of creating figures and patterns by manipulating a single loop of string. Although often compared to cat’s cradle, hei is more than a children’s game; it is a symbolic language. Each design has meaning: for instance, a star, the moon or the night becoming day.Seated at an outdoor cafe table on a recent afternoon in Manhattan, Cataluna, who is of Portuguese and Indigenous Hawaiian ancestry, placed a cord around her hands. Deftly moving her fingers, she transformed the string into a narrow rectangle with two triangles at its center.“So this is the house, right?” she said of the rectangle. “Then it breaks apart, and the two children run away.” She pulled her hands wide, and the triangles shot in opposite directions, then disappeared. “That’s the story I have to write,” she said she thought when, during research, she discovered this traditional hei. “I have to figure out what that means.”Different characters create that hei and others in “Heart Strings,” which runs through Oct. 23 at the Linda Gross Theater in Chelsea. Presented by Atlantic Theater Company as the first Atlantic for Kids production since the pandemic lockdown, it welcomes young audiences — the public on weekends and school groups on weekdays — with a drama that is both culturally specific in its details and universal in its themes.“I thought about what kind of issues would resonate with kids and their parents,” Cataluna said. Sibling rivalry immediately sprang to mind.But in “Heart Strings,” the meaning of “sibling” is complicated by another cultural tradition. The play’s central characters — Hoku, 10, and Mahina, 6 — are sisters according to hanai (huh-NYE), a Hawaiian custom in which couples take in children who are not their own. Hoku’s grandparents are raising both girls, and the reserved, studious Hoku, who once welcomed the infant Mahina into the family, now resents the high-spirited, questioning kindergartner she has become.“You’re not my real sister,” Hoku says, shutting out the younger girl with a force that threatens to shatter their household as utterly as that hei collapsed in Cataluna’s hands.Born on Maui, Cataluna remembered hei, but she did not choose it as a recurring motif to dazzle New Yorkers. She originally wrote “Heart Strings” for her teenage son’s theater group in Honolulu. His school had requested a play incorporating something tangibly Hawaiian, much as Kathryn Schultz Miller’s “A Thousand Cranes,” which the students had previously performed, celebrates Japanese culture through origami.When the coronavirus pandemic ended the school’s plans to present “Heart Strings” at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Cataluna successfully submitted her work to ReImagine: New Plays in TYA. (TYA stands for Theater for Young Audiences.) Established by a consortium of theatrical organizations, ReImagine awarded grants in 2021 to playwrights who were Black, Indigenous or people of color. As a grant winner, Cataluna could also select a participating theater company to workshop her play.She felt immediately drawn to Atlantic, which was also eager to acquire “Heart Strings” and is now giving it its world premiere: Here was a play that highlighted a culture that was part of America but that was almost never explored onstage.“It’s so three-dimensional, the storytelling that happens in the hei,” Alison Beatty, the artistic director of Atlantic for Kids, said in a post-rehearsal interview. After the pandemic’s isolation, she added, “having something that was tactile — that you could feel with your hands, and that was such an integral part of how the story is told — really appealed to me. And then, I think, just the questions that are asked by the play: what it means to be family, what it means to be at home.”Aczon, far left, in a scene from the Atlantic for Kids production, with, clockwise from top left, Jeremy Rafal, Kristi Donna Ng and Un Joo Christopher.Julieta Cervantes“Heart Strings,” which is directed toward children over 6 — an older audience than most Atlantic for Kids offerings — also gave the company a rare opportunity to help shape a playwright’s vision instead of importing a finished production. Beatty, for instance, suggested adding hula gestures, another form of choreographed storytelling, to the production. John-Mario Sevilla, a hula scholar, then taught some movement to the cast.The script also evolved. Cataluna had set her earliest drafts in the present, but after her son’s classmates asked why the characters were playing with string when they had cellphones, she switched the action to the 1930s. She also wanted to highlight the pressure on Indigenous peoples to assimilate. Hoku, played by Sienna Aczon, doesn’t mind using an English name and words at school; Mahina, portrayed by Un Joo Christopher, rebels against those rules. (Almost all the actors in the Atlantic production have lived in Hawaii.)“In my father’s era, and before his, Hawaiian was not allowed to be spoken in the public schools,” Cataluna said. She drew on her family’s past again in a scene in which Hoku’s friend Josiah (Aaron Banes) reflects on his love for his Hanai sister, as Cataluna’s father once did.But she has resisted acknowledging another autobiographical detail as more than mere coincidence: She has a younger biological sister from whom she is estranged.“One of my best friends keeps calling me on it,” Cataluna said, noting that he pointed out parallels to her play. She and her sister haven’t reconciled, but, Cataluna added, “if she ever needed a kidney, I would give her my kidney.”Audiences, however, don’t need to have siblings to recognize how vulnerable — or how steadfast — the bonds of love are, Kat Yen, the production’s director, said in the same conversation.In families or friendships, “we delve into struggle, we delve into confrontations, but you never lose the love,” Yen said. “Somewhere in there is a message that I’m interested in for the audience.”But that isn’t all that children take home: The company provides instructions on how to make a hei. More