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    How an Artist Listens to the Voices in His Head

    The singer and songwriter Josh Ritter’s musical work is often praised for its imaginative and deeply considered lyrics. His first novel, “Bright’s Passage” (2011), started as a song before Ritter transformed it.For his second novel, “The Great Glorious Goddamn of It All,” he was inspired by the history of Idaho, where he grew up. It’s narrated by Weldon Applegate, a 99-year-old man remembering back to his teenage years, when the long line of lumberjacks in his family seemed like it might be petering out.The novel is a tall tale laced with humor and salty language, delivered by Weldon in a classically folksy manner. (His father was “so poor he could barely afford to whistle a tune.”) Below, Ritter talks about the irascible Weldon, the history of timber towns, the characters in his head and more.When did you first get the idea to write this book?About seven years ago, living in Woodstock, N.Y. I’ve always been really interested in myth, and particularly American myth, because you can get such big ideas into small spaces.I was sitting on the floor with my daughter, Beatrix, who was very young at the time, and I just noticed the floorboards in this house, which were immense. Each one looked like a supper table. I was thinking of the people who took down those trees and moved them, and how they had turned them into these incredible floorboards. I’ve never really read a story about lumberjacks, and I grew up around lots of timber towns. So my mind went from those floorboards to those towns in northern Idaho where I was a boy, and from there the idea was just so plain: I had to write a lumberjack tall tale..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}I started working on it, but I was touring a lot, on the road with my family, raising a little kid. I picked up the novel and put it down a bunch of times in that period.Josh Ritter, whose new novel is “The Great Glorious Goddamn of It All.”Laura WilsonWhat’s the most surprising thing you learned while writing it?When I was growing up, the woods had emptied out some. There wasn’t the kind of influx of people from all over the world. What I learned in my research was that back just a hundred years ago, it was hopping. Around that area, there were the silver mines, there was timber, fishing, all the agriculture. Huge labor disputes. To walk down the streets of one of these towns now and imagine back, it was a profound experience to learn about that period.And for me personally, as a writer I’ve worried that there’s a store of characters or a store of songs in my head, and when I get through those I won’t have anymore. I’ve fought with that in my music so much. When I started to work with Weldon Applegate and let his voice out, I realized that there was a well there — a spring rather than a cistern. There’s something that’s continually creative, that made me feel like: OK, I have all the characters up there, they will always come. I just have to listen for them.In what way is the book you wrote different from the book you set out to write?I wrote many drafts of this book, maybe 15 or so, and with each draft there was time in between. It developed as I put it down and stepped away from it. I think of it like painters stepping away from the canvas to get a view. With a novel, you have to put it down and forget that you wrote some of it.What I noticed is that Weldon is a much more sympathetic character than he started out as. When I started writing him, he was not only cantankerous, he was a real hard-ass. Over time, he had changed. He’d gotten a little bit more humane; there was a sweetness there that was really surprising, and I was charmed by it.There’s a book — I think it’s Flann O’Brien’s “At Swim-Two-Birds,” I read it so long ago — where the author’s characters come alive and do stuff while he’s asleep. There’s that element to writing, which is so beautiful. Sometimes with songs or stories, I really do think that you end up following them, they’re like a strong dog on a leash. You follow along and pretend that’s what you meant the whole time.What creative person (not a writer) has influenced you and your work?I have two that are very important to me. The creative heroes I’m always on the lookout for are people who make big changes in their art and continually change. And they manage to have families and lives that aren’t consumed by their art. Their art doesn’t eat them up. They manage to feed the fire without getting burned. One of those people is Tom Waits. He’s done an amazing job of always finding new ways to express himself and communicate with the world.The closer, even more personal one, is my own mom. She was a neuroscientist, and a major force for me in envisioning what it was to have a life where you loved what you did and worked on it as a joyful activity. And my mom loved Tom Waits.Persuade someone to read the novel in 50 words or fewer.Moonshine, avalanches, witches, devils, murder, piano players, mobile homes, old injuries and lightning strikes. More

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    ‘I Think We’re Cousins?’: ‘Ain’t Too Proud’ Performers Realize Link

    A post in a family Facebook group led an actor and a musician in the Broadway musical to discover that they are distant cousins.Before the curtain comes down each night on “Ain’t Too Proud,” the Broadway jukebox musical that follows the rise of the R&B group the Temptations, the cast turns around in unison and lowers down to one knee as the lights go up to illuminate the show’s 17-piece band.After playing more than two hours of Motown classics, the guitarists, the drummers and the string section wave as the audience applauds.During the curtain call on Feb. 28, 2020, the day Matt Manuel made his Broadway debut in the flashy role of David Ruffin, he bowed alone, then with his fellow Temptations, all wearing gleaming white jackets and ties. When he turned and knelt down to give the musicians the spotlight, he thought to himself vaguely that the violist had cool hair.Two days later, he received a message from that violist, Andrew Griffin, who had been in the band since the show opened in 2019.“So…I think we’re cousins…?” Griffin wrote to Manuel in an Instagram message.Manuel responded with the requisite number of exclamation points for such a discovery: “Omg yes we are cousins!!!!!!!!”In fact, they’re second cousins once removed, according to the family tree recently drawn by Griffin’s mother. (She’s enthusiastic about genealogy.) Manuel’s great-grandmother is Griffin’s grandfather’s older sister, with 14 years separating the two siblings.Manuel made his Broadway debut as David Ruffin in the show just weeks before the shutdown.Julieta CervantesThe realization was a delight and a comfort to Manuel, 29, who, in January 2020, arrived in New York from Detroit after he had been cast as Ruffin, replacing Ephraim Sykes. It was a daunting move across the country: He left quickly with only two suitcases — the rest of his stuff remained in his parents’ garage — and it was his first time living independently, away from his family.He had always heard that Griffin’s side of the family eagerly supported their relatives however they could.“Wherever you’re at, they will take you up in a heartbeat,” said Manuel, whose professional acting debut was playing Marvin Gaye on tour in “Motown: The Musical.” “If you’ve got family, you’ve got everything that you need.”Griffin, 35, who grew up in Pittsburgh and moved to New York about six years ago to advance his music career, was shocked to learn that a new leading member in “Ain’t Too Proud” was a blood relative.“I knew nothing of him — absolutely nothing,” Griffin said. “I saw him onstage whenever they turn around and the musicians wave. That’s about it.”If it wasn’t for a video of the curtain call on Feb. 28, they might never have realized it. Manuel and his family had missed an earlier reunion, and the one scheduled for 2020 was canceled because of the pandemic.In February 2020, Manuel’s mother, Amiesha Williams, traveled to New York City to see his debut, and the day after, she posted a YouTube video of the curtain call on a family Facebook page used to plan reunions.“You know how proud moms are,” Manuel said, “they just brag.”The post garnered clapping emojis, encouraging remarks and then a comment from Griffin’s mother, Linda, pointing out that her son was in the center of the video playing the viola. She didn’t realize who Matt Manuel was and why Williams had posted the video of him in the first place.“How do you know him?” Linda Griffin wrote in the comments section.Williams replied the next day: “I’m sorry I fell asleep so I’m just seeing this. Matthew is my son.”As comments flew back and forth about the specifics of their genealogy, Manuel was onstage crooning into the microphone as Ruffin, the original lead voice of “My Girl.” Griffin was not far away, playing his viola beneath the stage. When Manuel returned to his dressing room, he saw a text from his mother: He had a cousin in the band and he should go meet him.“I’m like, ‘What does he look like?’” Manuel said. “And she’s just like, ‘His name is Drew and he plays the viola.’”Outside the stage door, Manuel signed autographs for a throng of giddy Broadway fans, glancing back every so often to look for the viola player. When Griffin walked out, the two introduced themselves tentatively. “I think we’re cousins,” Griffin said. Two fans holding a poster stared at them blankly, Manuel recalled.The pair did the natural thing to do when you discover a family member: schedule a lunch date. They made plans for the following week, but soon, the airborne virus that had been spreading across the world had producers worrying. Then, on March 12, less than two weeks after Manuel’s debut, the industry shut down.“Maybe we should postpone,” Griffin remembered saying.During the lockdown, Griffin fled to North Carolina to hunker down with his girlfriend and her family; Manuel went back to Detroit, thinking the pause in the production would be a good opportunity to drive back the rest of his stuff in a U-Haul.The shutdown stretched on and on, keeping performers like Griffin and Manuel out of a regular job and perpetually wondering when they would get a return date. Griffin spent time composing, something he didn’t always have time to do with a full performance schedule. Manuel grieved the loss of a relative, spent time with family and tried to reconnect with the part of himself that wasn’t a performer, always eager to entertain those around him.The cousins fell out of touch, their discovery outside of the stage door seeming like another era, where fans mingled freely with actors after exiting a tightly packed theater.But last month, the show took back its place at the Imperial Theater. The initial days were all work: Manuel, who lives in Harlem, tried to get his body accustomed to doing back flips, splits and microphone tricks for seven shows a week. Griffin, who lives in Williamsburg, had four days to sit back in front of his music stand with the rest of the band and get songs like “You’re My Everything” and “Get Ready” back into their muscle memory.“Going down the street for the first day of work, I started to well up a little bit,” Griffin said. “It was like nothing had really changed — there were still jokes and stuff written on our stands.”They hadn’t gotten a moment to spend time together until late last month, when a member of the show’s production staff had a birthday party and they were both invited.“Now let’s pick up where we left of,” Manuel said. “Actually go eat a meal and talk and, you know, gossip.” More

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    Astroworld Victims: Who They Were

    The music festival at Astroworld in Houston left eight people dead. Here is what is known about them so far.Excitement and adrenaline soon turned to panic and horror as a crowd of 50,000 descended into chaos at the Astroworld music festival in Houston on Friday night. Unconscious bodies were lifted and surfed through the crowd, while other attendees begged for the concert to stop as they watched others around them collapse.Hundreds of people, including a 10-year-old child, suffered injuries. Some were rushed from the NRG Park in Houston, where the festival took place, to hospitals. By Saturday afternoon, Houston’s mayor confirmed that 13 victims remain hospitalized, including five minors. And eight people, ranging in age from 14 to 27, with one age unknown, were dead. Here is what we know about some of the lives that were lost. Franco Patino, 21, was majoring in mechanical engineering technology at the University of Dayton in Ohio.Patino FamilyFranco PatinoFranco Patino, 21, a senior at the University of Dayton in Ohio, was among those who died at the music festival, the university and one of Mr. Patino’s brothers confirmed.Mr. Patino, who was from Naperville, Ill., was majoring in mechanical engineering technology with a minor in human movement biomechanics, the university said in a campuswide email on Saturday. Mr. Patino was a member of the Society of Hispanic Professional Engineers and Alpha Psi Lambda, a Hispanic interest fraternity, the university said.A brother, Julio Patino Jr., said his younger brother was planning to pursue a career in biomedical engineering and had a particular interest in prosthetics. Julio Patino Jr. said his brother was active in volunteer work and regularly sought to help others.“He was just that type of person,” he said. “He was always there for the people he cared about. He had a big heart.”He described his brother as an avid video game player (“Call of Duty” was a favorite) who competed in football, rugby and wrestling in high school. He said his brother had been to other concerts without incident but that this was his first time attending the Astroworld festival.“This should have never happened,” Julio Patino Jr. said of the deaths at the music festival. “There should be more rules in place to prevent this in the future. They should have stopped the concert right away as soon as all this started happening.”John HilgertGreen ribbons appeared at Memorial High School, just outside of Houston. It was the favorite color of John Hilgert, 14, a freshman, who was the youngest person to die at Astroworld, according to the authorities. He told friends that he wanted to get to the performance by the rapper Travis Scott early to get a good view, The Houston Chronicle reported. Now, family members, friends and former coaches were left to make sense of his death. On social media, those who knew Mr. Hilgert told similar stories of a young, kind boy who was known for being a good student and an athlete who played baseball and football. “The kid impacted everyone that met him,” Justin Higgs, a former baseball coach of Mr. Hilgert, wrote on Facebook. “Privileged to have had the opportunity to coach him during those seasons of his life.” Mr. Hilgert’s principal, Lisa Weir, sent an email to the entire school the morning after the concert, identifying Mr. Hilgert as one of the victims. The school will have counselors available to talk to students. “He was one of the nicest kids I knew and always made people laugh,” a friend tweeted. Brianna Rodriguez Brianna Rodriguez, 16, was a student at Heights High School in Houston and was a drill dancer as part of the band program, which paid tribute to her on Saturday on Twitter. “Brianna was someone who performed with the band and was someone who could always make anyone smile,” the band said. “Although she’s gone and she cannot perform with us anymore, we know she’d want to still enjoy our time in heights.”In an automated phone call on Saturday to parents, the school’s principal, Wendy L. Hampton, said that a student had died on Friday night while off campus and that grief counselors would be available. The call did not identify the student. On a GoFundMe page raising money for funeral expenses, Ms. Rodriguez’s family said that she was passionate about dancing.On Sunday, Erica Davis, a trustee for the Harris County Department of Education, shared photos of Ms. Rodriguez on Twitter.“There is no level above Tragedy … my heart mourns for families and all who experienced this,” Ms. Davis said. Rudy PeñaRudy Peña died at the Astroworld music festival.GoFundMeRudy Peña, 23, was identified by a cousin, Kimberly Escamilla, as being one of the victims. “Rip to my cousin,” she wrote in a Facebook post, “you will be missed.” She described him as “always smiling and so nice.” His sister, Jennifer Peña, told The Laredo Morning Times that he was “the sweetest person, friendly, outgoing.” She said that Mr. Peña had been taken to Ben Taub Hospital in Houston, where staff members told Mr. Peña’s mother that he had died. Danish BaigThe brother of Danish Baig described him in a Facebook post as a “beautiful soul” who put “everyone before himself.”“I am scarred for life,” said the brother, Basil Mirza Baig. “You were my role model, and I have so much pain in my heart. I can’t believe I lost you.”Basil Baig, who attended the festival, said his brother died as he tried to save a sister-in-law from “horrendous things that were being done.” People were “trampled, walked and stomped on,” he wrote.“In this time of mourning and grief and such pain, I would like everyone to pray for my family and my brother,” he wrote. Jacob E. Jurinek, who died at the Astroworld music festival, was a student at Southern Illinois University.Jurinek familyJacob E. JurinekHis younger cousins called him “Big Jake.” The nickname suited Jacob E. Jurinek, 20, well, his family said in a statement, because the young man with many friends and a “larger-than-life personality” was known for his “contagious enthusiasm, his boundless energy and his unwavering positive attitude.”Mr. Jurinek was a junior at Southern Illinois University Carbondale, where he was studying art and media and was on the dean’s list this semester. The chancellor of the school, Austin A. Lane, described him in a statement as “a creative, intelligent young man with a promising career in journalism and advertising.”Mr. Jurinek graduated in 2019 from Neuqua Valley High School in Naperville, about 30 miles west of Chicago.At the university, he worked as a graphic arts and media intern for the athletic department, his family said. He was a music fan, an artist and a “beloved cousin, nephew and grandson,” the family said.His father, Ron Jurinek, said Mr. Jurinek would be most remembered as his “best friend.”The father and son were brought closer by a previous loss, the death of Jacob’s mother, Alison, in 2011. Since then, they have been inseparable, and attended White Sox and Blackhawks games together and spent weekends at a family cottage in Southwestern Michigan, the family said.“We are all devastated and are left with a huge hole in our lives,” Ron Jurinek said. Axel Acosta, 21, was a student at Western Washington University.Acosta familyAxel AcostaAxel Acosta, 21, was identified on Sunday by his brother, Joel Acosta, as the man in a photograph circulated by the Harris County Institute of Forensic Sciences in Texas, which was seeking the public’s help to identify the man.Mr. Acosta was a junior at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Wash., where he was majoring in computer science, his younger brother said on Sunday.Mr. Acosta was a fan of Mr. Scott, but had never been to one of his concerts before, said Joel Acosta, 19, who recalled driving his brother to the airport in Bellingham last Wednesday. From there, Axel Acosta rented a car and drove about 90 miles south to Seattle before flying to Houston for the music festival, his brother said.“He finally had the money to go,” Joel Acosta said. “He was excited to go.”Axel Acosta was from Tieton, Wash., a community of fewer than 2,000 people in the Yakima Valley. When Joel Acosta did not hear from his brother on Friday night, he said he figured that his brother was just having a fun time at the festival. “He said that reception was spotty and the internet was really bad,” Mr. Acosta said. During the concert, Axel Acosta got separated from a person he had been rooming with at a local hotel, his brother said.“The roommate had called me that he had not seen Axel come to sleep that night,” Joel Acosta said. That’s when Mr. Acosta said that he began to worry that his brother might have been among the people who died. His fears were confirmed, he said, when the authorities released a photo of his brother on Saturday. Joel Acosta said he stopped looking at TikTok and other social media posts from the concert.“Now, I can’t look at the videos anymore,” he said. Reporting was contributed by More

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    PinkPantheress Has 1 Million Fans on TikTok

    Her songs “Just for Me” and “Break It Off” were breakout summer hits.Name: PinkPantheressAge: 20Hometown: Bath, EnglandCurrently Lives: In London, with a group of childhood friends.Claim to Fame: PinkPantheress is a singer, songwriter and producer whose melancholic yet upbeat track “Just for Me” has been featured in more than 2.1 million TikTok videos, becoming a kind of soundtrack for Gen Z angst and longing. Sample lyric: “My diary’s full of your name on every page.” Her music stitches elements from drum and bass, as well as garage. “A lot of my beats are literally from the early 2000s and late ’90s,” she said. “I think a lot of people probably have heard them before without realizing.”Big Break: PinkPantheress has been creating music since she was 14, when she joined a rock band. On Christmas Day last year, she posted a snippet of her song “Just a Waste,” which samples Michael Jackson’s “Off the Wall,” to TikTok. The following day, she said, she was flooded with requests for the full-length version and the song has been featured in more than 216,000 TikTok videos. “My first TikTok was just to gauge if I should put out a song,” she said. “This is a great way to assess if music is good enough to put out or not.’”Charlotte Hadden for The New York TimesLatest Project: On Oct. 15, PinkPantheress released “To Hell With It,” her debut mixtape of 10 songs, which Jon Caramanica, pop music critic for The New York Times, calls “warmly ecstatic and cheekily gloomy.” “I think a lot of my music doesn’t come from a place of pain or whatever,” she said. “It doesn’t come from a place of me. A lot of it just comes because I really like storytelling.”Next Thing: With most pandemic restrictions lifted in London, she plans to perform at a few shows this month, including the Cause. She also hopes to explore a wider array of music. “Music-wise, I do want to flesh it out a bit,” she said. “I definitely want to do more genres, or try at least.”Mum’s the Word: Despite, or maybe because of, her large social media following (one million on TikTok), PinkPantheress has tried to keep her legal name secret, though some music fan sites say that they have identified her. “I always was private, not because I’m standoffish or I don’t want to have that intimacy with people — it’s just more because it’s hassle free,” she said. “I really enjoy leaving things up to people’s imagination.” More

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    Marília Mendonça, Brazilian Pop Singer, Dies in Plane Crash at 26

    Ms. Mendonça, who was a social media sensation with millions of followers, was iconic in a type of Brazilian country music called sertanejo.Marília Mendonça, one of the most popular Brazilian pop singers who was known as “The Queen of Suffering” for her angst-filled ballads, was killed on Friday in a small plane crash in the southeastern state of Minas Gerais in Brazil. She was 26.The singer’s press office confirmed Ms. Mendonça’s death and said her producer, Henrique Ribeiro; her uncle who was also her assistant, Abicieli Silveira Dias Filho; and the pilot and co-pilot of the plane were also killed.The plane had been headed from the city of Goiania to Caratinga, where Ms. Mendonça was to have performed in a concert on Friday night. There was no immediate word on the circumstances leading up to the crash. The authorities said they were investigating.Ms. Mendonça was iconic in a type of Brazilian country music called sertanejo, a popular genre in Brazil. Her legions of fans found power in her song lyrics, which implored women to reject bad and abusive relationships, and told the stories of flawed characters.Ms. Mendonça was a social media sensation, with 7.8 million followers on Twitter, 22 million on YouTube and more than 38 million on Instagram.The plane had been headed to Caratinga, where Ms. Mendonça was to have performed on Friday night. Minas Gerais Civil Police, via Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesBrazil’s president, Jair Bolsonaro, said on Twitter, “The whole country receives in shock the news of the death of the young country singer Marília Mendonça, one of the greatest artists of her generation, whom, with her unique voice, charisma and music won the affection and admiration of all of us.”Anitta, a funk singer popular in Brazil, said on Twitter: “I just found out. I can’t believe it.”Some in Brazil’s cosmopolitan circles had scorned Ms. Mendonça’s country ballads as “‘brega,’ or corny music,” NPR reported in 2019.“Sentimental or not, her songs offer a woman’s perspective that hasn’t been heard much in sertanejo’s machismo culture, and it’s made Mendonça the leading voice of a new subgenre called ‘feminejo’ — music by and for women,” NPR said.Ana Ionova contributed reporting. More

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    Review: ‘The Visitor’ Lags Behind the Times

    The new musical, based on the 2008 film and delayed by the pandemic, debuts at the Public Theater. But its story of a white professor helping immigrants feels out of step with the moment.What comes to mind when you think about immigration, ICE and deportation? I’m willing to bet more than a few George Washingtons that it’s not “musical.” Perhaps it is doable to respect the politics around these issues and the immigrants trying to build a life in the United States in this format, but it’s tough. Which is why the new musical “The Visitor” feels so obtuse and helplessly dated.Dated because it is based on Tom McCarthy’s 2008 film, a well-meaning artifact of the post-9/11 years about a couple of undocumented immigrants helping a white middle-aged professor get a new lease on life. The film resonated in a time before we had a president who fiercely fought to keep immigrants out, and before calls for diversity echoed throughout our institutions.In the film, an economics professor named Walter Vale travels to New York City from Connecticut to attend a conference, but while there, he finds a young couple living in his long-neglected apartment: Tarek, a drummer originally from Syria, and Zainab, a Senegalese jewelry designer. He lets them stay, and Tarek teaches him the drums. They live there until Tarek is unfairly picked up by the police for an infraction he didn’t commit and put in a detention center for being undocumented.The musical, which opened on Thursday at the Public Theater, is directed by Daniel Sullivan and has a book by Kwame Kwei-Armah and Brian Yorkey, who also wrote the lyrics. Tom Kitt (who also teamed up with Yorkey for the Pulitzer Prize-winning “Next to Normal”) adds music to this story, which arrives onstage with only minor changes.Long in the works, “The Visitor” was scheduled to begin its performances in March 2020 — practically a century ago in Pandemic Time. To stage the project now without a more significant overhaul of the story was a bold choice, especially with masking and quarantining coinciding with a reckoning about how people of color and their stories are — or, more often, are not — represented in theater and the arts.That’s not to say there haven’t been any modifications. First, previews were pushed back a week last month after cast members raised issues around depictions of race and representation. Then the departure of one of the leads, Ari’el Stachel, was announced in what the theater called “a mutual decision,” and last-minute edits were made in an attempt to refigure the way whiteness was centered in the production.David Hyde Pierce stars as Walter, a widower whose career and emotional life are as stagnant as a glass of lukewarm milk. Ahmad Maksoud, who was Stachel’s understudy, takes on the charming Tarek, and Alysha Deslorieux is the firm and guarded Zainab. Jacqueline Antaramian rounds out the central cast as Mouna, Tarek’s concerned mother.Alysha Deslorieux, left, as Zainab and Jacqueline Antaramian as Mouna in the 90-minute show.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesHyde Pierce delivers the most subdued version of his usual awkward nebbish with the occasional cantankerous quip. (“Wake up, you little snot rags,” he thinks while teaching his students in an early scene.) But there isn’t much setup for Walter; perhaps intentionally, given how much the show goes on to focus on its white protagonist.Part of it is Sullivan’s brusque direction, which speeds through some character-building dialogue then lingers on scenes that have the clunkiest exposition. And it’s also partly because of the congested score. While the film is quiet and pensive, the show is overstuffed — with seemingly every second of its 90 minutes filled with music.Kitt’s music has a generic pop sound that sometimes works, as in “Drum Circle,” a Disney-esque tune chock-full of lively, layered percussion; and “Heart in Your Hands,” a rather maudlin song with angelic harmonies. (Kitt’s score, particularly “Heart,” is further enlivened by Jessica Paz and Sun Hee Kil’s ethereal sound design.) But most of the time it doesn’t work; upbeat songs or soft, slowed-down percussion feel at odds with the heavy subject matter.This is especially baffling in the energetic “World Between Two Worlds” number, in which detained immigrants perform a “Stomp”-style stepping and clapping routine that abruptly ends when a guard takes one of them away. That said, at least the show moves; Lorin Latarro’s choreography animates even the most mundane scenes, say, in a classroom or on a New York City street. (The ensemble members enter and exit via doorways and a balcony platform in David Zinn’s confined set design of oppressively gray walls that transform into various spaces and institutions that may exclude individuals — an apt metaphor.)Yorkey’s clunky lyrics are what ultimately do the songs in; some are attempts to add introspection to a deeply withdrawn protagonist with a wooden disposition. So we’re treated to obvious lines like, “Here I am in a suit at this conference,” or clichés like, “Find the rhythm within,” and, “You join the [drum] circle and it joins you.”Hyde Pierce speak-sings his way through the score, or spastically works himself up into the bravado needed for the nauseatingly cheesy “Better Angels,” which is meant to be a triumphant showstopper. As Tarek, Maksoud gives an earnest performance but never seems to plumb any emotional depths — or vocal ones either. Deslorieux has the strongest voice of the main cast, crooning with delicate rolling r’s for her character’s accent. As Mouna, Antaramian’s voice is inconsistent, and she has a loose grasp on her character’s accent.Maksoud with ensemble members in the musical. The ensemble etches “small but remarkable performance moments, even in the background and during the fleeting transitional numbers,” our critic writes.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesThe ensemble, however, often upstages the main cast members, etching small but remarkable performance moments, even in the background and during the fleeting transitional numbers.In one, Katie Terza nearly blows off the walls of the Public with a brief yet transcendent Arabic song, and the professional drummer Takafumi Nikaido (also the production’s djembe coach) could easily steal the entire production.The few attempts at nuance — a comment from Walter showing how he’s also guilty of racial stereotypes, a mention of him as a white savior, and an added back story about Zainab’s abuse-ridden immigration journey — cannot change the story that’s being told or how uncomfortably it sits in our current moment. Even with the additions, the immigrant characters still ultimately function as markers of Walter’s emotional growth and development; they have bits of personality and back stories but can’t stand on their own in a plot without him.So what does one do with a work of art that, by the time of its premiere, has already been outpaced by the moment? How can you contemporize a work whose very conceit — its whole plot, its central perspective — will land like a well-meaning but ignorant cousin’s comment in a conscientious cultural conversation?These questions, of course, are larger than what the Public has on its stage right now. “The Visitor” proves that we can’t always pick up exactly where we left off. Sometimes that’s a good thing.The VisitorThrough Dec. 5 at the Public Theater, Manhattan; publictheater.org. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. More

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    ‘A Man Named Scott’ Review: Bending Genres, Coping With Struggles

    This film about Kid Cudi is that rare musician-focused documentary, one as sensitive, fully formed and noble in its intentions as the artist himself.In “A Man Named Scott,” a documentary about Kid Cudi, the genre-defying rapper’s longtime friend, Shia LaBeouf, and one of his superfans, Timothée Chalamet, are among the men who say Cudi helped them open up emotionally. They acknowledge Cudi for reshaping hip-hop on his own terms.But the director Robert Alexander’s documentary doesn’t only remind you that the artist (whose real name is Scott Mescudi) revolutionized the genre, softening its conventional definition of masculinity by simply being himself. The film additionally presents a moving rumination on art and individuality, and the invaluable connection between both.Through the biographical self-reflective framework of the doc, Alexander leads the viewer to examine art from a psychological and representational perspective. The significance of Black visibility in the arts is a prominent thread, and watching Willow Smith dance like no one is watching to one of her favorite Cudi songs, “Sky Might Fall,” expresses Cudi’s profound influence on the youth who were led by him in their own dismantling of social constructs.More broadly, this is a film about the music that makes us, but Alexander poses a fundamental concern as he explores that topic: What toll does the development of this work take on its creator?Cudi opens up about his struggles. Actually, he divulges a lot — though he stops short of detailing the process of making his 2015 album Speedin’ Bullet 2 Heaven,” admitting it was “a really dark time” for him. Thanks to its perceptive insights and a range of interviewees, from fellow industry professionals to a clinical psychologist, “A Man Named Scott” is that rare musician-focused doc, one as sensitive, fully formed and noble in its intentions as Cudi himself.A Man Named ScottNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 35 minutes. Watch on Amazon. More

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    ‘Tick, Tick … Boom!’: A Musical Based on a Musical About Writing a Musical. We Explain.

    Lin-Manuel Miranda’s directorial debut is an adaptation of a show by Jonathan Larson, creator of “Rent.” This guide unpacks the many layers.Lin-Manuel Miranda’s new film adaptation of “Tick, Tick … Boom!” is the musical version of the “Rent” creator Jonathan Larson’s musical about writing a musical.To clarify, that musical is not “Rent.” (Yes, our brains hurt, too.)“Tick, Tick … Boom!,” which premieres Nov. 12 in theaters and Nov. 19 on Netflix, portrays Larson (Andrew Garfield) and his efforts to find success in his late 20s. The audience watches him struggle to write “Superbia,” a retro-futuristic musical, while he frets about whether he should choose a more conventional career.To help you keep “Superbia” (Larson’s never-produced musical) straight from “Tick, Tick … Boom!” (Larson’s autobiographical show about writing “Superbia”) straight from “Tick, Tick … Boom!” the new film that tells Larson’s story, we’ve created this guide:Who was Jonathan Larson?The composer and playwright is best known as the creator of “Rent,” a musical loosely based on Puccini’s 1896 opera, “La Bohème.”But Larson never got to see the smash-hit success of his rock opera, which went on to win four Tony Awards. The composer died unexpectedly at age 35 in 1996 from an aortic aneurysm — on the morning before the first Off Broadway preview of “Rent” and a few months before its Broadway debut.But “Rent” was hardly his first musical, and was in many ways shaped by an autobiographical show he was writing at the same time, about his struggles to write “Superbia.”Larson himself in 1996.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesWhat was “Superbia”?No up-and-coming playwright in New York City is living in the lap of luxury, but Larson’s digs were especially hardscrabble. He lived and worked in a fifth-floor walk-up in Lower Manhattan, an apartment with no heat and a bathtub in the kitchen that he shared with two roommates and a couple of cats. He would write for eight hours on days off from his weekend job waiting tables at the Moondance Diner in SoHo.The musical he was working on was “Superbia” (based on George Orwell’s dystopian novel “1984,” even though he had been denied the rights). He won a number of grants and awards to continue writing the show, including the Richard Rodgers Development Grant, chaired by Stephen Sondheim, which paid for a workshop production at Playwrights Horizons in 1988.But effort did not equal success. Though the music and lyrics won high praise among some downtown theater people, the show was considered too big and too negative, and no producer was ready to take it on, according to a 1996 article by Anthony Tommasini in The New York Times.So, Larson decided to do a monologue.Where does “Tick, Tick … Boom!” come in?Not dissuaded by the flop of “Superbia,” Larson began working on a new musical — “Rent” — as well as another idea: an autobiographical “rock monologue” that chronicled his struggles writing “Superbia.” Initially titled “30/90” — because he was turning 30 in 1990 — and then “Boho Days,” the one-man show that would later become “Tick, Tick … Boom!” was first staged, starring Larson, in a 1990 workshop at the Second Stage Theater. The show — part performance-art monologue, part rock recital — captivated a young producer named Jeffrey Seller, who became a champion of Larson’s work and later persuaded his fellow producers to bring “Rent” to Broadway.But “Boho Days” was difficult to pull off: Larson had to nail long monologues, often while playing several characters; sing musical numbers that represented multiple points of view; and simultaneously accompany himself on the piano and direct his band through a score that was a combination of pop, rock and Sondheim pastiche.Tommasini described the show as an “intense, angry solo” in which a man “wakes on his 30th birthday, downs some junk food and complains for 45 minutes about his frustrated ambitions, turning 30 in the tenuous ’90s and much more.”After the workshop, Larson continued to revise the piece, including changing the title to “Tick, Tick … Boom!” — a reference to the clock he felt was continually ticking on his life and career — and presented it at New York Theater Workshop in 1992 and 1993. It was still a work-in-progress when he died in 1996, and he left behind at least five versions of the script and a bevy of song lists.The 2001 Off Broadway version of “Tick, Tick … Boom” at the Jane Street Theater, featured Jerry Dixon, left, Raul Esparza (as Larson) and Amy Spanger.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesHow did the solo show become a three-person musical?After Larson’s death in 1996, the playwright David Auburn, who won the Pulitzer Prize for drama for “Proof,” revised the show as a three-person chamber musical that lessened the burden on the actor playing Jon. Now two additional actors played Michael, Larson’s advertising-executive best friend, and Susan, his dancer girlfriend, in addition to each portraying a variety of ancillary roles. Songs were rearranged for three voices, though the music and lyrics remained Larson’s.With the permission of Larson’s family, Auburn also excised most of Larson’s references to his terror of growing older and the feeling of being under so much pressure that his heart was about to burst in his chest, which would only seem callous given the audience’s knowledge of the composer’s fate.The revised “Tick, Tick … Boom!” premiered Off Broadway in 2001 at the Jane Street Theater, and went on to have a West End production, an Off West End production, two Off Broadway revivals, in 2014 and 2016, and an American national tour.Reviews were positive, with the New York Times critic Ben Brantley noting that the songs “glimmer with hints of the urgency and wit” that lend the musical score of “Rent” irresistible momentum.”Miranda — who’d found success with “In the Heights” but had not yet debuted his smash hit “Hamilton” — played Jon in a 2014 revival at New York City Center, a performance that the Times critic Charles Isherwood said “throbs with a sense of bone-deep identification.”Isherwood pointed out that it hadn’t been long since Miranda was “teaching high school English while scribbling songs on the side,” trying to make it as a musical-theater composer.Garfield in the new film, directed by Lin-Manuel Miranda, who played the role in a 2014 stage revival. Macall Polay/NetflixHow does the film adapt all this?Twenty years after seeing the Off Broadway revival of “Tick, Tick … Boom!” as a 21-year-old theater major struggling to write “In the Heights,” Miranda directed the new film adaptation, which follows a young composer named Jon in the eight chaotic days leading up to a workshop production of his musical “Superbia.” As in the Off Broadway revival, Larson’s rock monologue has been expanded, this time to a cast of more than a dozen characters. (Bradley Whitford now plays an encouraging Stephen Sondheim.) The film cuts between Jon’s performance of Larson’s original staging of “Tick, Tick … Boom!” and the story as it unfolds in real time.Miranda has said the show is a combination of Larson’s rock monologue, the 2001 Off Broadway revival, and a cinematic exploration of Larson’s thought process. He used the Library of Congress archives to craft the film’s score entirely using Larson’s music, both from “Tick, Tick … Boom!” and the composer’s larger body of work.“It was like we were putting together an original musical with Jonathan Larson’s songs,” Miranda told Entertainment Weekly, explaining the process as finding the best way to “unlock” the songs and stories.Did Larson himself feel the urgency of his work? Sometimes it seems, to quote a “Rent” anthem, that he understood “There was no day but today” to do it. More