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    ‘The Notebook’ Will End Its Broadway Run in December. A Tour Is Next.

    The show, nominated for three Tony Awards, opened March 14 at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater. It will go on a national tour starting next September.“The Notebook,” a musical adapted from the best-selling novel by Nicholas Sparks, will end its Broadway run on Dec. 15 after struggling to find sufficient ticket buyers during a competitive spring and summer.But this is not the end of the road for the musical. The producers, who announced the closing on Friday, said they plan a national tour of the show starting next September at Playhouse Square in Cleveland; some musicals, particularly those with well-known titles, fare better on tour than in New York.The musical, like the 1996 book and a 2004 film adaptation, is the story of a lifelong romance, told from the point of view of an older couple, one of whom has Alzheimer’s disease. Featuring songs by Ingrid Michaelson and a book by Bekah Brunstetter, “The Notebook” is directed by Michael Greif and Schele Williams.The show began previews Feb. 10 and opened March 14 at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater. A pre-Broadway production at Chicago Shakespeare Theater had been well-received, but in New York, reviews were mixed; The New York Times’s chief theater critic, Jesse Green, called it “meretricious” (look it up: It’s not a compliment).Onstage, three pairs of actors play the lead characters at different stages of their lives; the musical is set in a coastal mid-Atlantic town in the 1960s, the 1970s and the present day. “The Notebook” was nominated for three Tony Awards but won none.It is the fourth musical to announce earlier-than-hoped-for closing dates since May, following “Lempicka,” “The Heart of Rock and Roll” and “The Who’s Tommy.” Broadway is always a difficult industry, and most shows fail financially, but the odds of success are particularly long now because production costs have risen, audience size has fallen, and there is a high volume of shows competing for attention. At the time of its closing, “The Notebook” will have played 35 previews and 317 regular performances.“The Notebook,” with Kevin McCollum and Kurt Deutsch as lead producers, was capitalized for up to $15 million, according to a filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission. That money has not been recouped. More

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    Was 45 Years Leading Second Stage Enough? Not for Carole Rothman.

    As she departs the acclaimed nonprofit, Rothman discussed why women need to be in leadership, her Tony Awards mic drop and the “perfect production.”Carole Rothman was a 28-year-old director when she and a colleague decided to form a theater company. It was the 1970s, and leadership opportunities for women were scarce. Also, they had a theory that there were a lot of new-ish plays that, for any number of reasons, deserved another look: Many nonprofit theaters, in their admirable enthusiasm for new work, seemed to be overlooking promising dramas that hadn’t gotten their due.The result was Second Stage Theater, which is now a leading nonprofit theater in New York. The company has its own house on Broadway (the Helen Hayes), a commitment to staging work by living American writers and a proud history of nurturing Tony- and Pulitzer-winning shows. (In June, its production of “Appropriate” won the Tony for best play revival, and it previously won Tony Awards for “Take Me Out” and “Dear Evan Hansen.”)After leading the institution for 45 years, Rothman, the founding artistic director and the organization’s president, is leaving at the end of this month. Rothman’s departure is not an entirely amicable one; she is proud of the work the theater has done, but wasn’t quite ready to leave.She will be succeeded by Evan Cabnet, the artistic director of LCT3, Lincoln Center Theater’s space for producing work by early-career artists.She spent her final days in the job working on a documentary about the Tony Kiser Theater, Second Stage’s Rem Koolhaas-designed Off Broadway venue, which the organization, to Rothman’s dismay, is letting go at the end of this year, citing cost concerns. (The company will continue to produce work Off Broadway, starting in space rented at the nearby Signature Theater.)In an interview, Rothman, 73, discussed the challenges she faced as a woman in the industry, her favorite memories (and her biggest disaster) and what her future in the theater may look like.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Is This the Edinburgh Fringe, or a Wellness Convention?

    Grief narratives were in vogue, and psychological maladies, too, at the annual Scottish arts showcase.As I made my way to Scotland for this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe, the three-week arts showcase that finished on Monday, I felt a little apprehensive. A conspicuous number of shows were themed around psychological maladies. These included plays about grief, anxiety, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder and gambling addiction. I had thought I was going to a festival, but this sounded more like a wellness convention.Theater geared toward raising awareness can often be underwhelming, because the message gets in the way of a good time. But “300 Paintings,” by the Australian performer Sam Kissajukian, was a pleasing exception. Kissajukian, who has bipolar disorder, quit comedy a couple of years ago, when he was in his mid-30s, to become an artist — a frying-pan-to-fire trajectory if ever there was one. In this one-man show, he recounts, with the help of a slide show, a six-month manic streak during which he fast-tracked his way onto the art circuit through prolific productivity and business chutzpah: the delusional confidence of the unwell. Then he crashed, sought psychiatric help and got diagnosed. Kissajukian’s monologue is a whimsical delight, and the paintings aren’t bad either.Sam Kissajukian in “300 Paintings.”Tal GoldhamerGrief narratives have been much in vogue onstage since the success of “Fleabag,” which was performed at the Fringe in 2013. “So Young,” a sentimental comedy written by the Scottish playwright Douglas Maxwell, was one of several shows about bereavement at this year’s festival. Set in Glasgow, it centers on the conflict between two grieving people: a middle-aged widower who has just found a new, much younger girlfriend; and his dead wife’s best friend, who is affronted at how quickly he has moved on. The play foregrounds an often overlooked truth: that grief, though primarily personal, has an inherently social dimension.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    With ‘Empire Records: The Musical,’ Zoe Sarnak Revives a ’90s Cult Classic

    The composer is breaking the rules of musical theater and finding an increasingly warm welcome this year for her rock sound. Next up, “Empire Records: The Musical.”As a teenager in New Jersey, the composer and lyricist Zoe Sarnak was a star soccer player, earning her place in the Princeton High School Athletic Hall of Fame. Her position? “Center mid,” she said in a recent interview. “The one who runs the most.”In addition to displaying endurance, the center midfielder plays a crucial role in coordinating defense and attack, and controlling the game’s tempo. Experience that must have come in handy this year, when Sarnak, now 37, will have had multiple productions at prestigious institutions around the country.In May, Berkeley Repertory Theater premiered “Galileo,” a musical with a score by Sarnak and the composer Michael Weiner, in which science and religion duke it out. A few days later, a retooled version of “The Lonely Few,” a heated love story between two rockers, opened at MCC in New York.Now Sarnak is back in her hometown, Princeton, with “Empire Records: The Musical,” an adaptation of the 1995 grunge-adjacent teen film that begins previews at the McCarter theater on Sept. 6.“Maybe it’s from growing up playing sports and feeling like there’s something really gratifying about saying, ‘I can just run that extra wind sprint, I know I have it in me,’” she said during one of three conversations we shared over the summer — each at a different location attached to a different project.Lauren Patten, left, and Taylor Iman Jones in “The Lonely Few,” another Sarnak show set in a musical milieu — this one in a rock club.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    The Stuff They Strut on the Jellicle Catwalk

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

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

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

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

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

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    At Edinburgh Festival, Sometimes Simpler is Better

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