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      Ryuichi Sakamoto on Life, Nature and ‘Time’

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      The musician and artist, currently undergoing cancer treatment, unveils a music-theater work about dreams, reincarnation and humanity’s struggle.Ryuichi Sakamoto is in Tokyo for the summertime rainy season. A New York resident for over 30 years, the Oscar-winning composer has been in Japan since last November — not because of the pandemic, but because of a diagnosis of rectal cancer, discovered just after he went into remission after several years of treatment for throat cancer.Despite his health problems, Sakamoto has been as prolific as ever, participating in concerts, exhibitions and most recently an opera, “Time,” which premiered last month at the Holland Festival.“Time” is part of Sakamoto’s ongoing exploration of “asynchronism,” music arranged outside traditional time structures. Introduced on his 2017 album “async,” the concept was conceived as he recovered from his first bout with cancer — an experience that he has said newly honed his ear to the beauty of everyday sounds, both natural and man-made, sun showers and singing bowls.Without conductor or tempo markings, “Time” is a “Mugen Noh,” a subset of Noh theater based on dreams. Created in collaboration with the visual artist Shiro Takatani, this dreamscape unfolds on a stage filled with water and a screen displaying weather systems, cities and empty space.“Time” unfolds on a stage filled with water and a screen displaying weather systems, cities and empty space.Sanne PeperCrossing and recrossing the stage with her sho, an ancient Japanese wind instrument, Mayumi Miyata represents nature. The dancer and actor Min Tanaka is a frail symbol of humankind, struggling to build a road across the water. Summoning visions of rising sea levels, “Time” — like our new century — presents a premonition that also feels like a memory: At the end of time, we all return to the same sea.Sakamoto spoke about the piece on a recent video call. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.At what point in the production of “Time” did you find out your cancer had returned?I worked on “Time” for four years after “async,” and I was diagnosed with rectal cancer last year. It’s a long treatment. I’m in the middle right now, and will go back to the hospital for surgery in the fall. It’s been a year since I left New York; I don’t know when I can come back.Were you originally planning to perform in the opera?I was thinking of making an original instrument for it. I still have this idea for the future.I was using the word opera in the beginning, but I’ve stopped using it. It’s a combination of installation and performance — a theater piece.It seems quite deeply connected to “async.”The conceptual idea behind “async” was my doubt about synchronization, and that led me to think about time itself. If you know my work from the past, I zigzag. But the things I got from making “async” were so huge that I didn’t want to lose them. I really wanted to develop them. The album was so spatial, like music for an installation, so the development would be an installation of performers together. That was the original idea for “Time.”“Time” is a Mugen Noh — it has no tempo — so it does seem like the perfect landscape to explore these ideas.Time is so natural to our society that we don’t doubt it. But because I’m a musician, I deal with time all the time. When we compose, we have to think about how to manipulate sounds in time.Crossing and recrossing the stage with her sho, an ancient Japanese wind instrument, Mayumi Miyata represents nature.Sanne PeperThere are no instruments onstage, except the sho.Only the sho, which I have been fascinated by since I was a university student. I disliked all other Japanese traditional music, and even other traditions, like kado [flower arrangement] or sado [tea ceremony]. I hated it all, except gagaku [court music], which is like aliens’ music to me.Miyata, who represents nature, crosses the water so easily, while Tanaka — “mankind” — is so feeble.Woman and sho, they represent nature. Tanaka wants to create a straight road in the water — in time — to get the other side, but he fails. He goes insane and dies in the water at the end.What is humanity trying to reach at the end of the road?That’s mankind’s nature. A bit like Sisyphus: just a natural passion to make a road, to conquer nature.The road-building scenes interrupt a series of stories: a dream from the work of the writer Natsume Soseki; a traditional Noh play; the butterfly dream from the text Zhuangzi. How did you choose these?In our dreams, all properties of time are destroyed. In the Noh story “Kantan,” a man is looking for enlightenment and takes a nap. It just takes five minutes, but in his dream, 50 years has passed. Which is reality? The five minutes or the 50 years? And then in the butterfly dream, we have the philosopher Zhuang Zhou. Does the butterfly dream he is Zhuang Zhou, or does Zhuang Zhou dream he is a butterfly? We cannot tell.The dancer and actor Min Tanaka is a frail vision of humankind, struggling to build a road across the water.Sanne PeperBy freeing time musically, do you feel it slow down?The theme of “Time” is to insist that time doesn’t exist, not that it’s passing slowly. Watching the streaming premiere, I sensed that one hour ago was just a minute ago, or some moments were repeated. At least I could feel another kind of time.You’ve also been painting on ceramic pieces (“2020S”), using found objects, and making installations (“Is Your Time”), and you currently have a large retrospective in Beijing, with a lot of visual work. What provoked this turn toward the visual arts?Maybe the big moment was the opera I composed in 1999, “Life.” It included visual images, moving images and some texts — all those visual elements were the main characters of that opera.And that was your first collaboration with Takatani?Yes, and the next thing we did was to deconstruct “Life.” We deconstructed all the visual images, and the sound, too, to create an installation in 2007. That was a big moment.I guess you’ve always worked in the visual arts — you’ve worked so closely with filmmakers on soundtracks.Strange, you know, I didn’t think about films. Films are more narrative, more linear. Unfortunately, a linear structure is in time; it has a beginning, middle and end. I don’t want to go back to that. This is why I’m fascinated by installation. Installation doesn’t have to have a beginning or end. The best installation, I think, is just listening to rain.And you have a tremendous rainstorm at the end of “Time,” followed by the crashing of a wave in slow motion. What sea were you thinking of?Man wants to conquer nature — the water — but he must fail, so he must die by water. I needed a huge flood, maybe a tsunami, to represent the violent power of water. Also, almost all ethnic groups have some memories of a big flood. Maybe we all have some deep memory about surviving a flood.I think a lot of people will wonder if this opera is primarily about climate change.Climate change is the most vivid conflict between mankind and nature so of course it is included. But it’s not the main focus. I wanted to create a myth about mankind and nature.It’s very similar to Soseki’s dream, in which a woman returns as a flower growing from her own grave. I’ve read a few interpretations. To some it represents Soseki’s struggle with the modern world.It is my belief about reincarnation. Because she promises she will be back in 100 years, and she’s back as a flower. You know, I always wanted to be buried in the ground, so that my body would become the nutrition of other living things. And in Soseki’s story, the woman becomes a flower. It’s so beautiful.I love your interpretation.Very romantic, no? More

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      Emerging From Covid, Small Theaters in Los Angeles Face a New Challenge

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      A state law threatens to drive up labor costs for the city’s hand-to-mouth small theater scene as it tries to emerge from the pandemic.LOS ANGELES — “And here she is, in all her glory.”With a clank of a switch, Gary Grossman, the artistic director of the Skylight Theater Company in Los Angeles, turned up the lights over the 99 seats of his shoe box of a theater in Los Feliz the other morning. The Skylight looked pretty much the way it did when it abruptly shut down in March of 2020. Planks of scenery from its last production, “West Adams,” were gathering dust, leaned up against the rear of the stage.Concert halls, arenas, movie houses, baseball stadiums and big theaters are reopening here and across the country as the pandemic begins to recede. But for many of the 325 small nonprofit theater companies scattered across Los Angeles, like the Skylight, that day is still months away, and their future is as uncertain as ever.“How long will it be until we get back to where we were?” Grossman asked, his voice echoing across the empty theater that was founded in 1983. “I think three to five years.”This network of intimate theaters, none bigger than 99 seats, is a vibrant subculture of experimentation and tradition in Los Angeles, often overlooked in the glitter of the film and television industry. But it is confronting two challenges as it tries to climb back after the lengthy shutdown: uncertainty as to when theatergoers will be ready to cram into small black boxes with poor ventilation, and a 2020 state law, initially intended to help gig workers such as Uber drivers, that stands to substantially drive up labor costs for many of these organizations.The new gig worker law mandates that all theaters, regardless of size, pay minimum wage — which is ramping up to $15 an hour in California — plus payroll taxes, workers’ compensation and unemployment insurance. While some unionized theaters paid a minimum wage before, many had exemptions from Actors’ Equity which allowed them to pay stipends that typically ranged from $9 to $25 for each rehearsal or performance.Producers say the new state law means expenses for many small theaters will climb steeply at an exceptionally fragile moment for the industry.“Small performing arts organizations are on the verge of disappearing in California,” said Martha Demson, the board president of the Theatrical Producers League of Los Angeles. “It’s an existential crisis. We had the 15 months of Covid. But also now the California employment laws; to remain good employers we have to hire all of our employees as full-time employees.”Many organizations have survived these past months with government grants, support from donors and breaks from landlords. But Demson said some theaters that were forced to turn off the lights may never be able to return in this difficult environment.The Fountain Theater held outdoor performances of “An Octoroon.”Philip Cheung for The New York TimesIt has all added to an atmosphere of anxiety for a part of Los Angeles that has often felt a bit like a cultural stepchild. For all its growth and accolades, and its importance to actors looking for a place to work or stay sharp between roles in movies or on television, the theater scene has been too often overlooked. There is no central district of small theaters, as there is in many cities: They are scattered across North Hollywood, Atwater Village, Westwood, a stretch of Santa Monica Boulevard in Hollywood, Culver City and downtown Los Angeles.“Reminding the public that intimate theater not only exists but is essential to a well-balanced life in L.A. has been a challenge for decades,” said Stephen Sachs, the co-artistic director of the Fountain Theater. “We are always up against the goliath of the film and television industry.”Danny Glover, an actor who began his career on small stages in Los Angeles and San Francisco and was a co-founder of the Robey Theater Company in Los Angeles, described the theater scene as central to his own success.“Something happened in those small places with 50 people in there that opened me up in different ways, that made me realize there was something I could say in front of a camera or in front of a stage,” Glover said in an interview. “I’ve seen actors in a small theater, whether it’s in San Francisco or L.A., the next thing they are on their way to a career. That doesn’t often happen with the kind of pressures that are there when you are in a theater for profit.”Intimate theaters operate hand-to-mouth. Only 19 of the 325 small theaters have budgets over $1 million, and those account for 83 percent of the combined revenue of the entire sector, according to the Theatrical Producers League.“We are always underfunded,” said Taylor Gilbert, the founder of the Road Theater Company. “Live theater is not the best of models for making money.”Many theaters operated on the margins even before the pandemic; now producers worry about when audiences will feel safe returning. With the highly contagious Delta variant spreading, Los Angeles County health authorities recently recommended that people resume wearing masks at indoor venues.Demson, the producing artistic director of the Open Fist Theater Company, estimated the new law, which took effect just before California shut down, would add $193,500 in labor costs to her company’s annual budget, which now varies between $200,000 and $250,000.Many industries have responded to the bill, known as AB5, by lobbying Sacramento for exemptions. But there is little support for that in this theater community, which tends to be politically progressive.“It puts another financial burden on already strapped small companies,” Gilbert said. “At the same time we all support the idea that an artist should get a living wage. That’s the conundrum.”Actors’ Equity has come out strongly against exempting its members from the law, instead pushing for financial assistance from state and federal government to help theaters get back on their feet.“We think it’s a bad idea to have an exemption,” said Gail Gabler, the western regional director of Actors’ Equity. “We all want the same thing, We want the theater to open. It’s important for our economy and it’s important for our souls and it’s important for the actors who work in theater. But we want our actors to be fairly paid and work in safe conditions.”As a result, theater leaders are pressing lawmakers in Sacramento for legislation that would provide aid to help theaters cover the explosion of costs. There are two main initiatives: A one-time $50 million subsidy included in the state budget for struggling small theaters, and another that would set up a state agency to handle the cost of processing the new payroll requirements.But some small theater operators say that those bills would not do enough.“The financial subsidies would be great if they were written as a long-term sustaining line item in the California state budget,” said Tim Robbins, the Academy Award-winning actor and artistic director of the Actors’ Gang, a small theater in Culver City. “The real question is what happens next year when there are no financial subsidies left and the new precedents for nonprofits has been established?”The Fountain transformed its parking lot into an outdoor theater.Philip Cheung for The New York Times“For me the essential question is how AB5 went from a bill meant to address the nonprotection of gig workers (Lyft and Uber, etc.) to a bill that is bullying nonprofit theater companies?” he asked in an email.Susan Rubio, the Democratic California senator who is sponsoring the bill to set up a state agency and pushing for the $50 million subsidy, argued her approach would help the industry survive these challenging times.“Many have concerns and will continue to have concerns,” she said in an interview. “But California prides itself in taking care of its workers.”Grossman said he is hopeful that the Skylight will begin live performances by the fall. But other theaters are not as optimistic.Jon Lawrence Rivera, the founding artistic director of Playwrights’ Arena, which only produces the work of Los Angeles writers, said he was resigned to a difficult few years. Before the crisis, the Arena would fill 90 percent of its 50 seats. “Now, I’m thinking 30 to 40 percent capacity at the most,” he said.Most ominously, he worries that emergency grants will dry up as things return to normal.“The resources that we have been able to accumulate will disappear within two or three shows,” he said.The pressure to open is intense. The Hollywood Bowl staged its first public shows at the beginning of July, and in August, “Hamilton” is coming back to the Pantages Theater, with 2,700 seats, in Hollywood.Some theaters took advantage of the California climate and headed outside. The Wallis Center for Performing Arts in Beverly Hills recently reopened with a show on a pop-up outdoor theater it built on a terrace — “Tevye in New York!”The Fountain Theater, which has 80 seats, transformed its parking lot into an outdoor theater, and opened last month with “An Octoroon.” Bright red bushes of blooming bougainvillea offered a lush wall on one side of the seating area as cars buzzed by on Fountain Avenue and the occasional helicopter rumbled overhead. “Mufflers!” grimaced Rob Nagle, one of the actors, without breaking out of character, as a particularly deafening motorcycle roared by.There seems to be a resignation that many small theaters will face a hard time. “We know once the smoke clears some of them won’t be reopening,” said Mitch O’Farrell, a member of the Los Angeles City Council whose district includes many of the theaters.But Grossman said for all the concern — and the likelihood that some theaters would not reopen — he was confident that in the end, this scrappy culture would survive. “We are like cockroaches,” he said. “You’re never going to get us. We are going to sustain. But it’s going to be tough.” More

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      Tim Gunn’s Happy Place Is ‘Schitt’s Creek,’ Washed Down With Good Gin

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      The ‘Making the Cut’ host discusses the marvels of Derek DelGaudio, how Nora Ephron didn’t disappoint and why he’s tempted to steal a Picasso.Tim Gunn, the impeccably turned-out fashion emperor of Amazon’s “Making the Cut,” traded his suits for a turtleneck and jeans during the pandemic. He even dared to don sweatpants, but only if there was no one around to see him.“The silver-lining, fashion-wise, to this pandemic is that it’s taught me to respect and understand and, in fact, empathize with comfort dressing,” Gunn said.Still, there’s comfort and there’s comfort.On the day of our phone interview, the temperature was in the 90s, his air conditioning had conked out, and Gunn had a confession to make.“Frankly, I’m wearing — I’m wearing my underwear,” he said, struggling to spit out the words before erupting into laughter. “And I’ll tell you why. It’s because I care about my apartment and what’s in it, and I’m sweating so profusely, I don’t want to get sweat stains on the upholstery.”Seventeen years after first putting their style noggins together on “Project Runway,” Gunn and Heidi Klum are back as the tough-love overlords of “Making the Cut.” In the second season, shot on a ranch in Malibu, Calif. — it kicks off on Friday — 10 designers compete for $1 million to invest in their business, a mentorship with Amazon Fashion and the chance to sell a collection through the online retailer, with each episode’s winning garment immediately available for purchase.But shooting the season wasn’t the crashing surf, expansive vistas and ocean breezes that Gunn had envisioned. Smoke from wildfires sometimes enveloped the set. And Covid-19 restrictions made for convoluted distancing proposals, like the suggestion that Gunn meet with contestants not in the design studio, but out on the lawn.He was having none of it.“I said, ‘This is too artificial, it’s too contrived,’” he said. “I need to be where they are. I need to see the bolts of fabric they’re not using. I need to see what that item is — on that dress form across the room. Why is it over there? Why have you rejected it already?”“My goal is to get the designer to see what I see, or understand where I’m coming from, without telling them,” he added, before diving into his list of cultural must-haves. “In some ways, it’s sort of psychotherapeutic to get them to talk enough and to reveal enough to have that ‘aha’ moment of ‘Oh, I get it.’”These are edited excerpts from the conversation.1. Picasso’s “Gertrude Stein” at the Metropolitan Museum of ArtBefore the pandemic, I went to the Met at least once a week. I haunted the place. I love all the curatorial departments passionately, but you would think that if I were choosing a favorite painting or sculpture, it would be from the ancient world. It’s not. It’s Picasso’s portrait of Gertrude Stein from 1906. And if I could steal anything, that would be it.I’m just spellbound by the painting. The neutrals of it. There’s nothing that shouts out at you, yet it has such depth, and it has a lyrical quality. On the one hand, it’s quiet. On the other hand, it’s like a TNT explosion. I can’t get enough of it, and every time I go to the Met, I go to visit it. And regrettably, I’ve said this to a number of guards, “Why do you keep moving it?”2. Derek DelGaudio’s “In & Of Itself” and “Amoralman”I went three times, and I went first knowing nothing about Derek DelGaudio and not frankly being much of a fan of illusionists. I couldn’t get up from my seat at the end of it. When you enter the lobby of the theater, there’s a huge wall of little tickets, and on them is printed something that you may be: “I am” blank. “I am a teacher.” “I am a crack smoker.” “I am — whatever.” I stumbled upon “I am a good Samaritan” and picked it.At the end of the show, Derek asked for members of the audience who had a real conviction about the “I am” that they chose to please stand. So I stood, and I’m waiting my turn, and I’m totally unemotional about it. But when he gets to me — I’m tearing up right now — and he said, “A good Samaritan,” I completely lost it. I thought, “How could he possibly know this?”The book [“Amoralman”] is as captivating as the show was. He has a way of luring you in and then twisting things that make you challenge what it is you thought you understood about what just happened. I mean, I thought this is a man with an extraordinary gift, but he’s also quite an artist.3. “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” and “Through the Looking-Glass” by Lewis CarrollI have reread those two books easily a dozen times. And at each juncture, I have new insight about them and their relevance to things that are happening to me. I reread them during the pandemic. It was in a way shining a light onto it, which was sort of metaphorical to what was happening not only in this nation, but in the world. And another case of don’t make assumptions, and the world really is turned upside down, and we’ll tumble through a rabbit hole and end up in a place that we’ve never imagined.4. GinWhy are there so few gin drinkers? Everybody’s drinking vodka or in some cases white rum. Ugh. I happen to be a huge gin fan, and I have had friends, my local liquor store, their acquaintances bring me their gin recommendations based on something unusual. And New York state gin is something people are talking about now. Now, if it’s not from the U.K., forget about it. It’s absolutely undrinkable. My niece’s boyfriend brought me a bottle of gin three weeks ago, and I thought, “Oh, this is thrilling, and it’s a beautiful label, and I can’t wait to try it.” Oh my god, I thought I was going to die of poison. [Walks to his bar to look at the brand] It’s dark, and it’s from Rochester. It’s a stunning bottle. It’s called Barr Hill Reserve Tom Cat Gin, and it has a lovely B on the stopper on top. [A loud crash] Oops. There goes my bar. It’s rejecting the Tom Cat.I love Bombay. I usually have a gin and tonic, though I love a restaurant martini. I’m not certain that I like Tim Gunn’s martinis. There’s something about having a martini out that’s really fantastic. And something about having it at home that’s kind of sad.5. “Schitt’s Creek”I was excited about Season 1 when it was first airing. I couldn’t get through two episodes. I thought: “This is horrible. I can’t stand this show.” And I left it. Then when I came back for Season 4, I thought, “Good heavens, in some ways it’s a different show.” It struck me that it had matured in a way. I can’t get enough of it. In fact, I try to squeeze in one 22-minute episode a day just because it takes me to a happy place.6. Little IslandI’m a huge fan of the Diller-von Furstenberg philanthropy. We have the High Line thanks to them. And now we have Little Island. It’s so beautifully, sensitively done, but it doesn’t feel precious. You feel as though you could just throw out a picnic blanket and have a meal there. It’s a remarkable, remarkable piece — and frankly, I saw the architectural plans and I thought: “This is so ambitious. How can this possibly be executed?” Well, it’s even a greater statement in real life.7. “Tootsie,” the MusicalAnother show I saw three times. The cast was brilliant. The writing’s brilliant. The songs are hilarious, if they’re not plucking at your heartstrings. I liked the movie. It certainly would not be one of my Top 10, maybe not even one of my Top 100. But the musical is one of my Top 10 musicals ever, if not the top. It’s just so delightfully told and uplifting, without being saccharin and ridiculous. Just plain laugh-until-you-hurt fun. I hope it returns to Broadway.8. Nora Ephron’s EssaysThose essays are a bit like the written form of “Schitt’s Creek.” They’re just so purging and cathartic. She says what’s on her mind, and she calls things the way they are, and it’s done with humor and intellect and a great deal of irony. I’ve reread them and I’ve reread, and I laugh just as hard. Everyone should have at least one volume, and have it handy.I say this with great pride. I still can’t quite believe it, but I was her dinner partner at a private home. She was very ill at that dinner, but she was effervescent and hilarious and delightful. I loved her. And I have to tell you, I approach these people I love so much very ambivalently because I’ve been disappointed. I thought, “I don’t want to hate her.” And I didn’t. If anything, I adored her even more. So I laugh even harder when I reread her.9. “Cleopatra” by Stacy SchiffBy nature, I’m a very curious person and I thought, “I want to read about the fall of the Roman Empire. How did this happen?” I’ve been fascinated with Cleopatra for a long time, and this book is completely and totally captivating and compelling.The world that Stacy Schiff paints for us is much more than Egypt and Alexandria. It’s really the entire known world from Mesopotamia and Iraq and Iran to the British Isles. It’s a phenomenal, phenomenal story. I’m going back to Trump and the U.S. and democracy. When you think about the shining highlights of ancient Rome, all of that happened within about 300 years. When you think about Egypt and Cleopatra, and the fact that she was a Ptolemy — the Ptolemys ruled Egypt for 300 years and then, over. And 300 years of the Romanovs in Russia, and then it’s over. So for me, it has been, “Oh my god, the United States. Will we make it to 300?”10. “Two Fat Ladies”Heidi and I and Sara Rea, the former [“Project Runway”] showrunner and uber-executive producer now, all had a vision about what we wanted to do on “Project Runway,” and no one would let us do it. When we left “Runway,” we thought, “Let’s pitch this vision.” And Amazon was thrilled about it.I love interacting with Heidi. On “Runway,” we had such separate and discrete roles that we barely ever did. We wanted to have these interactions that really had nothing to do with advancing the plot — just having fun together and an additional window onto whatever it is we’re doing. And the inspiration for these scenes was “Two Fat Ladies,” which premiered in the ’90s. They would have little vignettes where they would go off and make butter or go to a horse race, and you loved them for it. You felt that you had this sort of intimate relationship with them and that you knew them better, and you really did. So I kept telling everyone, “Watch the ‘Two Fat Ladies.’ That’s what I think we should be doing.” And it is what we did. More

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      Andrew Lloyd Webber’s New Act: Activism

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      LONDON — Andrew Lloyd Webber, 73, has for decades been a household name in Britain for his flamboyant, quasi-operatic musicals. Now, he’s becoming known for something more unexpected: activism.For over a year now, Lloyd Webber — who redefined musical theater with shows like “The Phantom of the Opera” and “Cats,” and served for years in the House of Lords — has been harassing Britain’s conservative government to get theaters open at full capacity, at times making scientifically questionable claims along the way.This June alone, he made newspaper front pages here after pledging to open his new “Cinderella” musical “come hell or high water” — even if he faced arrest for doing so. (He quickly pulled back from the plan after learning his audience, cast and crew risked fines, too.)He went on to reject an offer from Prime Minister Boris Johnson of Britain that would have let him do a trial opening of “Cinderella” without restrictions because it left other theaters in the lurch; take part in legal action against the government demanding it release results of research into whether coronavirus spread at cultural events; and to tell an interviewer he regretted caucusing with Britain’s Conservative Party when in the House of Lords because the party was now failing to support the arts and commercial theater.“The way he’s done it is like something out of his musicals — it’s loud, it’s over the top,” said Arifa Akbar, the chief theater critic for The Guardian newspaper.A scene from Lloyd Webber’s new musical “Cinderella,” which is now playing to reduced capacity audiences, despite his wishes.Tristram KentonJames Graham, a leading playwright (whose “Ink” played Broadway in 2019) said approvingly that Lloyd Webber had become “a big thorn in the government’s side.”Theater has been one of the industries hit hardest by the pandemic. In New York, most Broadway theaters do not plan to reopen until September. In England, theaters have been allowed to open with socially distanced and masked audiences for brief periods, with the West End most recently reopening on May 17.But Lloyd Webber has, impatiently at times, urged the government to provide clarity on when theaters can reopen at full capacity, complaining that they were forced to remain shut or enforce restrictions far longer than other businesses.Now the government seems to be giving him the clarity he sought: it plans to lift most remaining restrictions on July 19.“I never wanted, never intended to be the sort of spokesman for the arts and theater in Britain,” Lloyd Webber said in a recent interview at the Gillian Lynne Theater, where his musical “Cinderella” was in socially-distanced previews. “But there came this strange situation where nobody else seemed to be.”Outside the theater, several theatergoers praised Lloyd Webber’s new role. “I’ve never been his biggest fan — I’m more a Sondheim fanatic,” said Carole Star, 70. “But if I see him tonight, it’ll be difficult not to hug him.”“I could cry at what he’s done this year,” she added.Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice last September at a socially distanced London performance of their musical “Jesus Christ Superstar.”David Jensen/Getty ImagesBut others said they were glad he had pulled back from the threat to fully reopen before the government decided to allow it. “I admire his passion, but I hope he keeps things safe,” said Samantha Fogg, 25.Lloyd Webber, who participated in vaccine trials, said he had been driven by “a real sense of injustice” that theater has been treated differently than other parts of British life. He complained that in June, tens of thousands of soccer fans were allowed in stadiums — “everybody singing completely pissed,” he said — while theaters could only open at limited capacity and amateur choirs were not allowed to sing indoors. (Scientists have been clear that outdoor events are far safer than indoor ones.)The British government’s attitude to the arts was “dumbfounding,” he said.But health officials are not impressed with a theater composer’s opinions on the safety of fully reopening.In June, the British government released a report on a series of trial cultural and sporting events. The events, mainly held outside for people who could show that they had tested negative, only led to 28 potential coronavirus cases, it said, but the data had to be interpreted with “extreme caution.” And the study was conducted before the more infectious Delta variant began sweeping Britain.The report “basically says everything’s completely safe,” Lloyd Webber claimed. But Paul Hunter, a British academic specializing in epidemics, said in a telephone interview the report did “not in any way” say it was safe to reopen indoor theaters. (He said he approved of the government’s plan to reopen at full capacity on July 19.)When the pandemic first hit Britain, Lloyd Webber tried to show that theaters could reopen safely by adopting measures like those that were keeping his “Phantom of the Opera” running in Seoul. Those included requiring audience members to wear masks, doing temperature checks at the door and spraying theaters with disinfectant.Thanks to strict protocols, the composer’s “Phantom of the Opera” played to full audiences in Seoul.Woohae Cho for The New York TimesLast July, he spent over 100,000 pounds, about $140,000, to stage a trial at the Palladium theater in London to prove such measures worked.“I’ve got to say this is a rather sad sight,” Lloyd Webber said that day, as he looked out over a largely empty auditorium. “I think this amply proves why social distancing in theater really doesn’t work,” he added. “It’s a misery for the performers.”That event didn’t lead to any major reopening of theaters, and Lloyd Webber said his frustrations grew as Britain let airplanes fly at full capacity, and people return to pubs, restaurants and garden centers with abandon. Last September, he sarcastically told a group of politicians that he had considered turning the Palladium into a garden center so it could hold performances again.“I am absolutely confident that the air in the London Palladium — and indeed in all my theaters — is purer than the air outside,” he added, despite the growing scientific consensus that it was far safer to be outdoors than in.Lloyd Webber’s breaking point came last December, he said, when theaters were allowed to reopen for a handful of performances only to be forced shut again as cases rose, even though shops were allowed to stay open. “You saw scenes of people literally cheek by jowl, no distancing, nothing,” he said.“That’s the point I realized this government has no interest in theater,” he added. “Once I realize that, I didn’t see any reason to hold back.”He later clarified that the government had been right to shut down theaters at that point (there were over 25,000 coronavirus cases in Britain on the day the West End shut, and in a matter of weeks they peaked at over 60,000). Lloyd Webber said he didn’t feel he’d ever called for reopening too early. “I think everybody thought things would get back earlier,” he said.Lloyd Webber, who owns significant real estate in the West End, has been the most outspoken critic of the British government’s commitment to the arts during the pandemic.Tom Jamieson for The New York TimesOther British theater figures, such as the producer Sonia Friedman, have also made headlines by urging the government do more for theaters, but none have garnered as much attention as Lloyd Webber, who along with being a composer, owns substantial real estate in the West End.Lloyd Webber, whose personal wealth has been estimated at £525 million, reported that it was costing his company £1 million a month just to keep his seven theaters closed, and said that he had to mortgage his London home to raise funds. But he insisted money was not behind his advocacy. “My main concern is to just get everybody back to work,” he said.“I don’t think money’s got anything to do with it,” Julian Fellowes, the creator of “Downton Abbey,” who wrote the book for Lloyd Webber’s “School of Rock,” said in a telephone interview, adding, “He’s a man on a mission and you can tell.”But Lloyd Webber has not escaped criticism in his own community. In April, it was reported that the orchestra for “The Phantom of the Opera” in London would be slashed in half when it reopens, with percussion, harp and oboe replaced by keyboards.“When I see him get on his soapbox, part of me wants to applaud him and part of me wants to take him to task,” Matt Dickinson, a percussionist who lost his job, said in a telephone interview.Asked about this, Lloyd Webber said he was not the show’s producer, and pointed out that during lockdown he had recorded a set of orchestral suites that employed 81 freelance musicians.Ivano Turco, left, and Rebecca Trehearn in “Cinderella,” which has been given a contemporary spin thanks to a book by Emerald Fennell (“Promising Young Woman”).Tristram KentonLloyd Webber remains an extraordinarily busy — or driven — man. As well as trying to produce and finish “Cinderella” — whose book, by Emerald Fennell, the director and screenwriter of “Promising Young Woman,” gives the fairy tale a contemporary twist — he has been involved in a £60 million refurbishment of the Theater Royal, Drury Lane.Even as he explored old churches in Hampshire the other day, he said, he could not escape his newfound role in politics, saying that people would tell him, “We cannot believe that the government could have treated the arts in the way it has.”But sometimes he clearly is happy to highlight it. When the government set the reopening date of July 19, Lloyd Webber wrote on Twitter that he would add a special “Freedom Day” performance and a gala with proceeds benefiting Britain’s health care system.“I am thrilled,” he wrote, “that at last it seems theaters can finally reopen!” More

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      Critic's Pick: 'Seize the King,' Harlem Theater's 'Richard III'

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      It’s a tale that Will Power intends as cautionary, with cycles of history and human violence in mind.Have you been ravenous, lo these many shutdown months, for the layered richness of live theatrical design? The Classical Theater of Harlem has just the thing to sate your hunger.Ambitious design is one of the hallmarks of this company, and it is an absolute joy to encounter it again in such fine form in Will Power’s “Seize the King,” a contemporary verse spin on “Richard III,” in Marcus Garvey Park.The brothers Christopher and Justin Swader, old hands at transfiguring the utilitarian stage of the Richard Rodgers Amphitheater, frame Carl Cofield’s production with a set that is both monumental and minimalist, aglow with Alan C. Edwards’s canny lighting. In the gathering dusk, we gaze on its stony surfaces and square-edged sconces, and enchantment begins even before the show does.It’s a strange word, enchantment, to apply to the story of a duke so hellbent on his own sovereignty that he will murder the 12-year-old nephew who stands in his way — a tale that Power intends as cautionary, with cycles of history and human violence in mind.“The evil in men always resurfaces,” a narrator (Carson Elrod) warns at the start, as the stage walls fill with Brittany Bland’s projections of slave ships and war.Yet there is something inherently spellbinding right now about sitting outdoors in the dark with other humans, and the occasional blinking firefly, watching a performance unfold with doubling and dance.Alisha Espinosa plays Lady Anne, who marries Richard with close to no illusions after he courts her brazenly in her bath. Richard TermineI caught the first preview of the run, since the previous night’s show had been rained out. Because of that, some performances may have been a little tentative. So when I tell you that Ro Boddie, as Richard, lacks the charisma of a scheming antihero who seeks to draw us into his confidence — well, he may grow more comfortable in the role.The same applies to Alisha Espinosa as Edward V, the young heir to the throne, who needs to but does not bruise our hearts. She makes a far better fit as the calculating Lady Anne, who marries Richard with close to no illusions after he courts her brazenly in her bath — a makeover of one of the tackiest wooing scenes in Shakespeare. Kudos, by the way, for the costume designer Mika Eubanks’s neat trick of having Anne’s outfit in that tub scene stand in for frothy bubbles.This production is more adept overall at conveying the play’s humor than its heft: the waste of innocent lives in service of vain rulers, the need for vigilance against the resurgence of the vanquished.Yet the other three principal actors (Andrea Patterson, RJ Foster and Elrod), move easily between comedy and woe, and deliver Power’s complex verse with remarkable clarity. Especially in the scenes they share, they are fun to watch.Dance, a regular feature of Classical Theater of Harlem productions, is used here to extraordinary effect. Choreographed by Tiffany Rea-Fisher with her customary grace, it is woven more deeply than usual into the storytelling — as when we watch the death of the old king, Edward IV, enacted wordlessly — and into the mood of the performance. (Music is by Frederick Kennedy, who also did the very effective sound design.)Dance, a regular feature of Classical Theater of Harlem productions, is used to extraordinary effect. Richard TermineIt is impossible to fully separate the art of theater-making in this chrysalis-shedding moment from the relief we feel simply to be experiencing it. So I will tell you that I felt full in an unexpected way after “Seize the King.” To which, incidentally, admission is free.It was not perfect, and it did not have to be. It was live, it contained multitudes of beauty, and it felt like luxury.Seize the KingThrough July 29 at the Richard Rodgers Amphitheater, Manhattan; cthnyc.org. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. More

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      Review: Serving Murder in ‘The Dumb Waiter’

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      Harold Pinter’s one-act play, starring Daniel Mays and David Thewlis as hit men, is available to stream live via the Old Vic Theater.Have you ever gotten stuck in a dingy basement without even a cup of tea to quench your thirst? Service these days just isn’t what it used to be.That’s the plight of the two hit men in Harold Pinter’s absurdist comedy-drama “The Dumb Waiter,” a trim and tidy production that is being streamed live by the Old Vic Theater in London.In “The Dumb Waiter,” one of Pinter’s early comedies of menace, as the critic Irving Wardle called them, the two men sit idling in a basement room of what was apparently a former cafe. They’re waiting, Godot-style, on orders for their next job, making small talk that highlights their differences. Ben (David Thewlis) opts to follow procedure, though he’s coy when discussing the details with his partner. Gus (Daniel Mays), on the other hand, has his doubts about their occupation and the way they do things. He wishes for less seedy locations, more clarity on the jobs and better hours. And he has many questions. When the pair inexplicably start getting very specific food requests via a dumbwaiter, the job suddenly changes.The Old Vic’s production of the 50-minute one-act play, directed by Jeremy Herrin, is as polished as an assassin’s gun. Well, maybe not Gus’s, since Ben scolds his partner for his grubby-looking firearm. Appearances are important to Ben, after all, and, this being a Pinter play, so are rituals. Ben is inflexible and exacting, resolved to the simple order of their usual assignments. Gus is more circumspect and increasingly uneasy about his occupation.Hyemi Shin’s set design — a gray, lifeless room with two beds — feels appropriately bleak and isolating. Waiting, as if trapped, in a room until you’re given the OK to leave? It sure felt all too familiar to me. The grave confines of the men’s basement room seem to suggest a space where anything can happen — from a murder to a series of communications delivered by a dumbwaiter.And that small elevator for food is a perfect vehicle for Pinter’s quirky doses of comedy: It descends from the heavens (or, rather, a top floor), deus ex machina-style, bringing messages that change the characters’ relationships to each other and totally redirect the action of the story. And Thewlis and Mays’s characters grow progressively agitated: Ben turns more hostile and resolute, while Gus becomes more anxious and doubtful.The symbolic meaning behind this play isn’t so easy to decipher. Is this a philosophical statement on two antithetical approaches to life, a parable about our responses to order and chaos? Or is this political, a story about what happens when you fall in or out of line with an institution like, say, the government? Or does the play exist in — to steal the name of another Pinter work — some kind of surreal no man’s land, a cyclical purgatory where the two men relive this same situation?I’d prefer to hedge my bets and say it can be a little of all three. Pinter’s texts so often make the space for several interpretations at once, even if they seem to contradict one another. And yet in this perfectly effective production I wondered if the play lacked some stronger sense of a perspective — whether there wasn’t enough space given for the possibility of surprise. Because chances are you’ve already guessed how this one ends. The dumbwaiter interrupts the hit men’s mundane chatter but doesn’t veer the production off course from its clear road map to the conclusion.Though it’s a small complaint, because even for its mild predictability, this production of “The Dumb Waiter” makes a presentable and enjoyable feast of Pinter’s work. Grab your gun: Dinner is served.The Dumb WaiterThrough July 10; oldvictheatre.com. Running time: 50 minutes. More

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      ‘Waitress’ Is Returning to Broadway. So Is Sara Bareilles.

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      The popular musical secured a limited engagement at the Ethel Barrymore Theater this fall. The singer and songwriter will reprise her role for six weeks.She used to be Broadway’s. Now she’s back.The singer and songwriter Sara Bareilles — who wrote the music and lyrics for the musical “Waitress” — will return as the protagonist, Jenna Hunterson, from Sept. 2 through Oct. 17.The show will continue to run after that, at the Ethel Barrymore Theater, through Jan. 9, 2022. After a wildly successful debut at the Brooks Atkinson Theater in April 2016, the show spent four years on Broadway, closing in January 2020.Over the course of the show’s run, Bareilles has periodically played the starring role of Jenna, a baker and waitress stuck in an abusive relationship who sees a pie-baking contest as a way out. In a statement, she drew parallels between the hope and resilience within the show and that of the theater community during the pandemic.“With this change comes powerful motivation to bring what we have learned and experienced this past year to make something even more beautiful and more intentional,” Bareilles said. “Broadway is grit and grace, magic and mayhem, and I can’t wait to feel the electricity that pulses through all of us as the curtains rise once again.”“Waitress” was the first Broadway musical to feature four women in the top four creative spots, Bareilles added. (Its book was by Jessie Nelson, choreography by Lorin Latarro and direction by Diane Paulus.)“Broadway is returning as the engine that drives New York City’s recovery, drawing audiences from around the world to be wowed, to celebrate, to cry and to laugh again,” Barry and Fran Weissler, who are among the show’s producers, said in a statement. More

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      Review: ‘Fruma-Sarah (Waiting in the Wings)’ Is a Mangled Love Letter

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      There’s great pleasure in seeing the actress Jackie Hoffman take center stage, even if the play, by E. Dale Smith, doesn’t quite deliver.The actress Jackie Hoffman doesn’t so much steal scenes as first beat them up and then abscond with any valuables. It’s actorly burglary. The scenes usually seem pretty happy about it.In “Fruma-Sarah (Waiting in the Wings),” a new play by E. Dale Smith, premiering at the Cell Theater, Hoffman, an actress with a contortionist’s face and a wit that leaves marks, is typically savage in her attack. The production, a monologue with occasional interruptions, stars Hoffman as Ariana, an Italian American real estate agent and amateur drama enthusiast in Roselle Park, N.J. Kelly Kinsella plays Margo, an aggressively bland volunteer stagehand who has to ready Ariana for her big entrance in a New Jersey community theater production of “Fiddler on the Roof.”The theater has cast Ariana as Fruma-Sarah, the dead wife of the butcher Lazar Wolf. She has one number, “Tevye’s Dream,” late in Act I. In “Fruma-Sarah,” which unspools in real time, Ariana spends the hour or so before she needs to go on treating Margo to a litany of complaints as she nips less than surreptitiously from a flask. (Think of this as a one-woman, low-budget “Bottle Dance.”) The play is at least 90 percent kvetch. And happily no one kvetches like Hoffman. She’s a born ham, if ham were kosher.But if “Fruma-Sarah” is a love letter to theater, it’s the kind of letter that arrives late and mangled, in a cover envelope with a perfunctory apology from the Postal Service. It has a lot of lines built to force an insider audience to chuckle — like one about an all-female “Equus” and an all-male “The Children’s Hour.” Yet it offers meager insights about theater as a metaphor for life or role-playing as respite or why any sane person would want to put on a musty rented costume and bang out a triple step for friends and family in the first place.The sour 70-minute show is directed by Braden M. Burns, who is also credited with the original concept. Are the jokes cheap? They seem heavily discounted. Its politics, while ostensibly liberal, skew conservative. And that’s fine. Or it could be. Likely not everyone in Roselle Park votes a progressive ticket. But who thought a zinger about the “pronoun police” should make it into previews? As exciting as it is to be back in a room of people mostly laughing together, it is still worth asking who is doing the laughing and who is being laughed at. Like a very tall boxer, the play mostly punches down. It also gives Margo next to nothing to do.In most shows, Hoffman has played the second (or third or fourth) fiddle. Before the pandemic, she had the role of Yente in a Yiddish production of “Fiddler on the Roof,” a larger part than Fruma-Sarah, barely. So there’s great pleasure in seeing her take center stage, even if the stage of the Cell, a theater on the first floor of a reconfigured Chelsea brownstone, has the approximate dimensions of a beach towel. But the space is too small for Hoffman, a woman built to carp so that the rear mezzanine can hear.Still, she treats the material with absolute seriousness, dignifying the bits that don’t deserve it, swerving into an emotionalism that the script doesn’t remotely earn. Better are the lines that feel written just for her, like, “No one has ever described me as ‘nice.’ Ever.” She doesn’t have to steal the scenes this time, they are hers already, even as she spends them hooked into a flying rig, confined to a chair. She’s a big presence, which somehow makes “Fruma-Sarah” feel even smaller.Fruma-Sarah (Waiting in the Wings)Through July 25 at the Cell, Manhattan; frumasarah.com. Running time: 1 hour 15 minutes. More