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      In a Marathon of One-Act Plays, Boundaries Are Pushed and Pulled

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      Ensemble Studio Theater’s 38th Marathon of One-Act Plays showcases what can be accomplished in short-form productions, and how, in some cases, they hem ideas in.In Harron Atkins’s multigenerational saga “Still…,” artistic ambitions rub up against personal relationships. Careers wax and wane. A couple forms, bickers, ends — and may or may not be reborn on different terms. We even hear exquisite renditions of “Doo Wop (That Thing)” and “Valerie.”All of this in only 40 minutes.The scope and length of “Still…” make it an outlier not just in Ensemble Studio Theater’s 38th Marathon of One-Act Plays, but in short-form theater in general, which tends to focus on economical vignettes and snapshots. Not here: Atkins follows Noah and Jeremy, starting with their meet-cute as tweens, then tracking them as young adults uploading songs on social media before they eventually make moves in the music industry, and going all the way to their reminiscing — but also looking ahead — when they are in their 60s. Much of the time is spent with the young-adult versions of Jeremy (Eric R. Williams) and Noah (Deandre Sevon) as their friendship morphs into love, which in turn becomes strained when Noah’s career takes off while Jeremy’s stalls.At times it feels as if we are watching a live pitch for a movie or television series, a connection Atkins does not shy away from with a joke about the TV show “Empire.” (Referring to a character played by Taraji P. Henson, Jeremy asks Noah, “Did you think I was about to roll in there causing a scene like Cookie Lyon?”) But “Still…,” directed by Cameron Knight, also functions on its own terms and has a genuine breadth that works within the boundaries of its current format.Atkins’s piece closes Series A, part one of this year’s two-part marathon, which is resuming for the first time since 2019. The theater marathon features a lineup of 11 plays — 10 in person and an extra one, presented with Perseverance Theater out of Juneau, Alaska, available via streaming — by artists who are Black, Indigenous or people of color. The playwright Mike Lew (“Teenage Dick”) and the writer-director Colette Robert (“Behind the Sheet”) curated the project, and their efforts pay off most in Series A, which is not only superior to Series B but also to the other Ensemble Studio Theater marathons I have attended in the past. (This year’s marathon runs through Nov. 13.)At their best, the works in the first series introduce distinctive writers who make me crave more. One of them is Dominic Colón, whose “Prospect Ave or the Miseducation of Juni Rodriguez” had already been performed, beginning in 2020, as part of “The M.T.A. Radio Plays,” an audio anthology from Rattlestick Theater. It’s a pleasure to revisit the lovely chance meeting of Juni (Justin Rodriguez) and Macho (Ed Ventura) on a 2 train, when an overheard phone conversation leads to something more direct and, maybe, more real. Bonus points for an excellent Foot Locker joke and the apropos use of McDonald’s takeout.From left, Brenda Crawley, Cristina Pitter and Denise Manning in Vivian J.O. Barnes’s “Intro To.” Carol Rosegg“Intro To,” by Vivian J.O. Barnes (“Duchess! Duchess! Duchess!”), also boasts a superb use of language — florid, funny, and suggestive in every sense of the word — which is especially fitting for a piece set during a class where erotic writing is being taught. With the instructor delayed, Kara (the Off Off Broadway darling Cristina Pitter) takes charge and leads the participants in readings of their stories. The shy Shanice (Denise Manning), a biology student, has come up with a surprisingly evocative tale, but it’s when the older Mary (Brenda Crawley) steps up that the play takes a turn for the weird — halfway between heavy-breathing sensuality and body horror.Another pleasure to be found in “Intro To,” which is directed by Keenan Tyler Oliphant, is Manning’s terrific comic performance, driven by precision timing and constant inventiveness. She makes the most of the material, then fills the silences with a hilariously fidgety presence. Other superlative turns can be found in the Series B closer, “blooms,” by a.k. payne. This evocative slice of life about a pair of lovers, played with rare warmth by Alisha Espinosa and Kai Heath, takes place in the 10 minutes before the grocery store that employs them opens. Decisions must be made, and payne sketches the situation with tenderness and sympathetic humor.Fernando Gonzalez, left, and Will Dagger in Keiko Green’s “Prepared.”Carol RoseggAnother fine performance lurks in Series B’s “Prepared,” by Keiko Green, in which Will Dagger portrays a Boy Scout trying to survive the apocalypse with what’s left of his troop. Unfortunately, unlike the aforementioned cast members, Dagger must make the most of a rickety piece that tries way too hard for whimsy and is burdened by the tiresome monologues that the Scoutmaster (Fernando Gonzalez) delivers on a radio. As short as it is, the play feels padded, a problem that also afflicts Bleu Beckford-Burrell’s “Tr@k Grls (pt1),” which runs in circles. Since the play is about two teenagers training for the track team, this might be pushing form and function a little too far.Goldie E. Patrick’s “Breath of Life: a Choreoplay of Black Love,” directed by Jonathan McCrory and also featured in Series B, is trickier to appraise. It begins with a suspenseful urgency suffused by pervasive, realistic dread. It’s 2020 and the asthmatic Drew (Biko Eisen-Martin) finds himself in the middle of a Black Lives Matter demonstration; his partner, Toni (Ashley Bufkin), is becoming increasingly panicky because she can’t reach him. Patrick skillfully builds tension as Drew, fearing both police violence and catching Covid, works his way through the throngs. About two-thirds of the way through, the piece’s four actors start switching roles: for example, Margaret Odette portrays Drew after having played his friend Ayo — meaning that Toni and Drew are now both women. As the story continues, more permutations follow that might suggest that love is love is love. As for the “Choreoplay” subtitle, that remains confounding since there is no dancing.Dance does, however, play a big role in Vera Starbard’s streaming piece “Yan Tután,” set during a rehearsal by an Indigenous group in Alaska. The piece moves in a fairly herky-jerky manner until Ernestine Hayes enters and takes command as the elder Auntie Dolly, who recounts a harrowing story of cultural erasure with a happy epilogue. In a flash, we see all that was lost but also all that might be gained, and Starbard builds to an emotional finish that feels entirely earned. More

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      ‘Chekhov’s First Play’ Review: A Play-by-Play of the Play Within the Play

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      At Irish Arts Center, a wry, experimental iteration doesn’t do much to untangle the playwright’s unwieldy early work.If Anton Chekhov gave a name to the early play that surfaced years after his death, we don’t know what it was. This is part of the lore around that script, a relished detail in the story of its discovery: The title page was missing.The text is a mammoth, unwieldy beast, as playwrights’ juvenilia often is. Written when Chekhov was 18, or 19, or 20 — that fact is uncertain, too — it’s a stylistic mishmash that would run five or six hours, staged whole. But dramatists are drawn to it, in part because its elements are recognizable from his later work: the grand old estate, the money woes, the crowd of characters living restless, listless lives. And, of course, the gun.So adapters dive in, gather what they like and leave the rest. Michael Frayn called his rendition “Wild Honey.” David Hare’s is “Platonov,” which is the usual title for the play in English. And if you remember the amusing spectacle of Cate Blanchett, on Broadway nearly six years ago, removing her bra without taking off her dress — well, then you’ve seen the version known as “The Present,” by Andrew Upton.“Chekhov’s First Play,” at the Irish Arts Center in Hell’s Kitchen, is Bush Moukarzel and Ben Kidd’s wry, experimental iteration. Directed by the pair for Dead Centre — their Dublin company, familiar to New York audiences for the shows “Lippy” and “Hamnet” — it whittles Chekhov’s script down to a bare 70 minutes. That includes time for the location to shift from the late 19th-century Russian countryside to early 21st-century Dublin, and for a wrecking ball and a pneumatic drill to do some damage to Andrew Clancy’s scenery.Languor escalates into havoc for the characters — among them Anna (Ali White), the financially indebted owner of a house she can’t afford; her friend Triletsky (Paul Reid), who, like Chekhov, is a doctor with tuberculosis that he fails to diagnose; and Platonov, who arrives quite late, played by an audience member. Not that you are likely to care much about the characters, let alone the plot, as story is not exactly at the forefront here. The performance we watch is, in a sense, the play within the play.The whole experience is framed by Moukarzel’s running commentary, spoken into audience members’ ears via the headphones we wear throughout. (Sound design is by Jimmy Eadie and Kevin Gleeson.) It’s funny and often snarky; in one slightly crude line, Moukarzel sounds like a sports broadcaster giving a play-by-play of a rare Chekhov move. But Moukarzel also expounds on the themes of the play — like private property and the ravenousness of the rich — and laments that he cut so many characters from Chekhov’s script.“It was hard to decide what matters,” he says, “and who you can just throw away.”This, really, is the nub of “Chekhov’s First Play,” which had its premiere in 2015. That’s also when Irish artists were sifting through the human wreckage of the Celtic Tiger, an economic boom that collapsed into painful recession and left Ireland littered with abandoned housing developments.When these characters talk of cancer, it’s a metaphor for harmful, unchecked growth; their scorn for banks is rooted in reckless lending that ruined lives. Even Moukarzel and Kidd’s decision not to give the Chekhov play a proper title is significant — because of that other meaning of title: legal ownership. Historically, one name for the found Chekhov text has been “Play Without a Title.”Trouble is, the Celtic Tiger is so many crises removed from the present that it’s a little obscure, even at the Irish Arts Center, which co-commissioned the play.Similarly, the headphones would have been novel in 2015 — the year that downtown theatergoers experienced Anne Washburn’s “10 out of 12” that way, and the year before Simon McBurney’s “The Encounter” gobsmacked headphone-wearing Broadway audiences with its binaural sound design. Now, as a tool, they’re underwhelming.“Chekhov’s First Play” surely felt much bolder and fresher when it was new. But if you ask the question “Why this show now?” the answer seems to be that it was in the wings.Chekhov’s First PlayThrough Nov. 6 at the Irish Arts Center, Manhattan; irishartscenter.org. Running time: 1 hour 10 minutes. More

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      In Brooklyn, a New Gathering Space for Tower Records

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      Plus: surrealist gardening tools, vintage runway accessories and more recommendations from T Magazine.Welcome to the T List, a newsletter from the editors of T Magazine. Each week, we share things we’re eating, wearing, listening to or coveting now. Sign up here to find us in your inbox every Wednesday. And you can always reach us at tlist@nytimes.com.Visit ThisTower Records Returns With a Brooklyn Gathering PlaceAt Tower Labs, the lounge will host recorded interviews and discussions with artists, brands and key figures within the music industry.Christian AnwanderWhen musicians want to celebrate the release of an album, they’ll once again gather at Tower Records — its first new location in 16 years, called Tower Labs. After the iconic music seller shut its doors in 2006, there was a period of mourning: In 2015, Colin Hanks released a documentary featuring the likes of Elton John and Dave Grohl (who once worked at the Washington, D.C., location in the early ’90s), charting its impact and lamenting its closure. But in 2020, Tower Records relaunched as an online store — and this November marks its physical reincarnation. Located in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the wood-paneled, warmly lit space was designed by the creative director Rebecca Zeijdel-Paz and the architect Louis Rambert, known for his work on the Lower East Side shop Beverly’s NYC. Customers will be able to pick up limited-edition vinyl records and merch from a window on Kent Avenue, while intimate concerts will be held on a stage with speakers custom-made by the New York D.J. Booker Mitchell. “The intention of Tower Labs is for artists and bands to host personal gatherings with their community, similar to a backstage experience,” says Tower Records’ president, Danny Zeijdel. “In an increasingly digital world, it is imperative for artists to have a physical space where they can connect and create.” Tower Labs opens Nov. 4, tower.com.Covet ThisA Surrealist Set of Gardening ToolsThe bronze garden tool set from Flamingo Estate and Campbell-Rey. Pia RiverolaWhen Richard Christiansen, the Australian creative director behind Los Angeles’s Flamingo Estate, first met Duncan Campbell of the British design studio Campbell-Rey during a 2018 trip to Marrakesh, the aesthetes bonded over the city’s grand Jardin Majorelle as well as their own budding botanical ambitions. “Duncan is one of the few people I know who can also geek out over an English rose,” says Christiansen. Once back at their respective homes, they carried on their floriculture conversation, fawning over the flowers found on each other’s Instagram feeds — and commiserating over the less-than-inspiring landscaping supplies in their yards. The latter subject led Christiansen to make a proposal: Would Campbell and his business partner, Charlotte Rey, create gardening tools as romantically refined as the duo’s signature consoles and coupe glasses? In a nod to the surrealist imaginings of Salvador Dalí, Les Lalanne and Elsa Schiaparelli, the resulting limited-edition, trompe l’oeil spade and garden fork pairing incorporates a number of the 150 species grown on Flamingo Estate’s sprawling seven acres: The fork’s tines were meticulously sculpted to resemble fleshy aloe vera leaves, while the curved handle of the banana leaf-shaped trowel recalls a nightshade plant’s unfolding petals. Handcrafted at the third-generation Collier Webb foundry on England’s south coast, the patinated solid bronze set, which Campbell and Rey put to the test in their gardens on the outskirts of London, is surprisingly weighty — and completely wondrous. “They’re beautiful, decorative objects that you can actually use,” notes Rey. To which Christiansen adds, “I say let’s get them as muddy and dirty as possible.” Available from Nov. 1, price on request, flamingoestate.com.Collect ThisThe Row Revisits Its Vintage Runway AccessoriesLeft: the Row spring 2023. Right: Line Vautrin collectibles, available at the Row. Courtesy of the RowWhen Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen staged the Row’s spring 2023 show at a grand Parisian hôtel particulier this past September, some models carried subtle, glistening surprises: petite gilded bronze boîtes created by Line Vautrin — the 20th-century French artist whose imaginative, intricately crafted jewels were once worn by the likes of Françoise Sagan, Ingrid Bergman and Yves Saint Laurent — and sourced from the collection of Mon Vintage founder Marie Blanchet. “The Row’s authentic reverence for vintage is like no other,” says the archivist, who also helped Mary-Kate curate a range of secondhand sartorial treasures (a 1967 Madame Grès dress; a Yohji Yamamoto coat from his spring 1999 wedding collection) for the Row’s e-commerce site last year. Starting Nov. 1, those decorative boxes — as well as 12 additional Vautrin designs from 1930 to 1965, including a multicolored Murano glass necklace and a chunky bracelet handmade from lightweight Talosel resin — will be available to purchase at the Row’s London boutique, followed by the brand’s New York and Los Angeles locations. Shown alongside equally enduring leather handbags and refined ready-to-wear, the traveling display presents a rare opportunity to take in — and perhaps even take home — the one-of-a-kind collectibles. As Blanchet puts it, “They are pieces of art that go beyond fashion.” Price on request.Get ThisA Maximalist Collaboration From Cabana and LibertyLeft: a fusion of English and Italian design, the Cabana x Liberty Tapestry bedding features two archival Liberty designs dating back to the early 1900s. Right: the Edwina Poppy tablecloth is made from a cotton and linen blend with a hand-painted heritage Liberty print.Antony CrollaWhen Martina Mondadori moved from Milan to London in 2012, she would often visit Liberty, the British department store. Its shelves of fabrics and haberdashery matched her love of a layered space, which she would eventually showcase in the pages of her interior and decorative arts publication, Cabana, when it launched in 2014. Now, coinciding with the magazine’s 18th issue, Mondadori has collaborated on a line of housewares with Liberty, pulling from the company’s 147-year history of textile making.While Mondadori began making housewares in 2017 under the name Casa Cabana, partnering with Liberty meant gaining access to its print archive. Choosing which patterns to use had the potential for overwhelm, but Mondadori was decisive: She spent just a single day looking through the historic artworks and swatches hidden away in oversize books and labeled boxes, settling quickly on a selection of four patterns and a solid mustard yellow. The resulting collection of bedding (cushions, sheet sets, reversible quilts) and table textiles (place mats, napkins, tablecloths) are meant to be mixed and matched. For inspiration on how to style the patterns together, those in London should make a trip to Liberty, where on the fourth floor, Mondadori has arranged a scene pulled out of the pages of Cabana. A long table is set under a souk-inspired canopy made of hand-printed Cabana x Liberty cotton material. In another nook, Uzbek suzani fabrics are draped on Liberty’s lofted walls above twin beds dressed in autumnal sheets. From $110, cabanamagazine.com.See ThisKate Nash Songs Come to the Stage in the Musical ‘Only Gold’Gaby Diaz as Tooba, a princess, and Ryan Steele as Jacques in the new production “Only Gold.”Daniel J. VasquezOne of my favorite go-to songs about unrequited love is Kate Nash’s “Nicest Thing,” from the London-born singer-songwriter’s 2007 debut album, “Made of Bricks.” But it was still exciting to hear the kooky lo-fi tune placed in the middle of a new Off Broadway musical, “Only Gold” (in previews now at MCC; opening Nov. 7), to encapsulate the longing, both requited and not, between a king and his queen; a princess and her betrothed; and a watchmaker and his wife. All of this unspools in a stripped-back stage version of 1920s Paris, where Nash stars as narrator, connecting the story lines and performing snippets of songs for which she’s known — at least by her many fans — alongside new ones she wrote for the show. She was brought on to the project a decade or so ago by its director and choreographer, Andy Blankenbuehler, whose syncopated style won him his third Tony for “Hamilton” in 2016, and who co-wrote the book for this “dance musical,” as they’re calling it, with the playwright Ted Malawer. If its set and staging are minimal, that’s only because the play foregrounds the power and movement of its ensemble who, of course, need lots of space to spin around while Nash sings beautifully along. mcctheater.org.Buy ThisAn Iconic Lamp in a Bright New ShadeIn honor of the Tizio lamp’s 50th anniversary, Artemide is re-releasing Richard Sapper’s iconic design in a brand-new color: red.ArtemideRichard Sapper created the lamp he wanted but couldn’t find when he made the elegant yet functional Tizio lamp in 1972. The clever design incorporated two counterweights and a swivel base, which allowed it to direct light in any direction, plus a halogen bulb whose previous application had mostly been limited to industrial use. Although it was developed in the ’70s, the angular design really hit its stride in the 1980s as an affordable icon of high-tech minimalism. As a young investment banker new to the city, I ogled it in the windows of the home shop D.F. Sanders on Madison Avenue and it became my first design purchase. Fifty years later, the Tizio lamp endures. To celebrate the occasion, Artemide has produced a fiery red version with one update that keeps it cutting edge: an energy-saving LED bulb. Starting at $480, artemide.net.From T’s InstagramA Tangier House Is Given New Life, and an Extension More

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      Review: Praise the Lord for ‘Tammy Faye’

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      A new musical about the life of the televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker, composed by Elton John, makes spectacular entertainment from a righteous subject.LONDON — Praise the lord for “Tammy Faye,” the new musical that opened Wednesday at London’s Almeida Theater. Telling the unlikely story — for the English stage at least — of the American televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker, the show has a heart as big as the title character’s bouffant hairdo, and runs through Dec. 3.Rupert Goold’s vigorous production is also an increasing London rarity: a musical with an original score at a time when most repackage existing hits. That the composer is Elton John has only intensified interest in a project that also includes the Scissor Sisters frontman Jake Shears as lyricist and the prolific playwright James Graham as book writer. John’s most recent musical, “The Devil Wears Prada,” ran aground in Chicago over the summer, so it’s a relief to report that “Tammy Faye” is, for the most part, spectacularly entertaining, even if it could do with some trims and the toning down of a few tasteless sections.And when the astonishing Katie Brayben in the title role seizes center stage to rock out at the close of both acts, you can feel the intimate Almeida transformed into the sort of pulsating arena that Tammy Faye would surely love. “Show me mercy, open your hand,” she sings, letting rip in one of several impassioned numbers, “Empty Hands,” that comes from the gut. I was right there with her, as I was in the comparable “If You Came to See Me Cry” near the end, in which Tammy Faye reflects on her legacy from heaven. (Where else?)We know she’s headed there right from the start. The show begins with the revelation that Tammy Faye has colon cancer, and a sexually explicit joke that comes after the diagnosis indicates that this won’t exactly be family fare.We then turn back the decades to chart her progression from her modest Minnesota origins to a wealthy televisual messiah with a hotline to God. “If I hadn’t lived it,” she says, “I wouldn’t believe it.”Bunny Christie’s deliberately antiseptic set consists of a back wall of TV screens that allows for a recreation of the Praise the Lord satellite network that Tammy Faye and her first husband, Jim Bakker (the Broadway star Andrew Rannells, making a firm-voiced London debut), founded in the 1970s. Her second husband, Roe Messner, is never mentioned.Brayben, left, and others in “Tammy Faye.” Brayben displays such fervor and commitment in the title role that you fall under her sway.Marc Brenner John’s score throughout is a savvy amalgam of country twang and rousing pop-rock ensemble numbers. The musical, as expected, has campy fun with its subject, but doesn’t condescend, and Graham’s canny script always places the Bakkers in the historical context of a larger conservative movement whose presence is felt to this day. We note the importance at the time of Ronald Reagan, Pat Robertson and Jimmy Swaggart, three men in the couple’s orbit who are presented as meanspirited foils of sorts to Tammy Faye’s worldview; Tammy Faye, by contrast, is all smiles and eyelashes, and Brayben communicates her generosity of spirit with ease.The show’s prevailing villain is Jerry Falwell (a sonorous Zubin Varla), who looks on in loathing at the Bakkers and is given more brooding solo numbers than the musical really needs: One would be enough. Falwell becomes the resident Iago of the piece, a rival consumed by envy who has no time for Tammy Faye’s tolerance of gay people.The second act dramatizes Tammy Faye’s famous 1985 interview with Steve Pieters (Ashley Campbell) the gay pastor and AIDS patient who finds in her a celebrity soul mate. (Love, Tammy Faye reports, gets many more mentions in the Bible than hate: 489 vs. 89, by her tally). It also charts the breakdown of the Bakkers’ blissful domestic life, when it was revealed that Jim had had a sexual encounter with Jessica Hahn, a church secretary, and was also sentenced to 45 years in prison for fraud.“Tammy Faye” is Goold’s third show this season on the stage of the Almeida, a theater he runs, after a coronavirus pandemic-delayed “Spring Awakening” and “Patriots,” a play about President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia and Boris Berezovsky, an exiled Russian oligarch, that transfers to the West End next year. Goold and the choreographer Lynne Page have assembled a splendidly drilled ensemble that writhes and snakes across the stage in collective ecstasy. The show also hints at the fickle nature of that same crowd, who at one revealing moment turn on the couple in fury.Through it all, Brayben displays such fervor and commitment in the title role that you fall under the sway not just of Tammy Faye, but of a performer giving her career-enhancing all to a part that Brayben was born — Tammy Faye would surely say destined — to play.Tammy FayeThrough Dec. 3 at the Almeida Theater in London; almeida.co.uk. More

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      Avant-Garde Theater, or a Musical: Who Says You Need to Choose?

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      In Germany, a sonically daring Chekhov adaptation and a post-apocalyptic western “opera” are breaking down barriers between genres.FRANKFURT — Ever since Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill served up “The Threepenny Opera,” their “play with music,” in Berlin in 1928, the dividing line between spoken and musical theater in Germany has been remarkably porous.Music is everywhere in contemporary German theater, often used to heighten or subvert emotional effects. Some of the credit or blame goes to Frank Castorf, the influential East Berlin director, whose long, demanding productions at the Volksbühne owed much of their unique, frenetic energy to the eclectic soundtracks devised by the theater’s longtime music director, Sir Henry.The quota of live music on dramatic stages here also seems to be increasing. Recent memorable examples have included the furious drumming that provides a rhythmic backbone to the Trojan War segment of Christopher Rüping’s monumental “Dionysos Stadt” and the dronelike chanting in Ulrich Rasche’s takes on classic works.And two of last year’s most discussed shows — Bonn Park’s “Gymnasium” and Yael Ronen’s “Slippery Slope” — were bona fide musicals, with impressive scores and singing, although they were a far cry from your typical Broadway or West End fare. Watching both productions, I felt we might be on the cusp of a breakthrough, with serious theater makers here channeling the vulgar and gleeful tunefulness of “Avenue Q” or “The Book of Mormon.”Such thoughts swirled in my head as I sat down to watch “Burt Turrido. An Opera” in Frankfurt this month. A four-hour post-apocalyptic western, it will travel to Hamburg and Berlin in the coming weeks.Behind the show is Nature Theater of Oklahoma, an influential American avant-garde theater collective that was founded in New York in 2006 and has become increasingly prominent on European stages in the past decade. The troupe’s co-founders, Kelly Copper and Pavol Liska, are serious artists whose shrewd approach and mischievous creative drive combine elements of European and American avant-gardes. Formally daring, energetic and unpredictable, their work is hard to pin down precisely because it encompasses so many genres and styles.From left, Bence Mezei, Robert M. Johanson, Anne Gridley and Gabel Eiben in “Burt Turrido.”Jessica SchäferSadly, the theatrical exuberance and innovation that characterize Copper and Liska’s best efforts are in short supply in “Burt Turrido,” a loopy mock-opera whose silliness would be bearable if the meandering libretto had anything to say, or if the canned score was not a succession of immediately forgettable folk and country tunes.The title character (a bewildered-looking Gabel Eiben) is a red-bearded castaway with amnesia who washes ashore on a barren island. He is rescued by Queen Karen (a scene-chewing Anne Gridley) and King Bob (Robert M. Johanson, who also wrote the music), petty despots who seized control of the island after it was swept by waves of environmental catastrophe, war and genocide. Burt is pursued by Karen, who wants his child, and a lovesick ghost named Emily (Kadence Neill, the cast’s best singer). Oh, and there’s Joseph (Bence Mezei), Emily’s ex-husband and Karen’s ex-lover, who has more than a little in common with his biblical predecessor. (For starters, he’s thrown into a pit.)The characters circle one another in an endless dance of romantic intrigue, suspicion and shifting power dynamics. Copper and Liska keep the tone light, with some silly sci-fi and horror effects (ghosts in sheets; a chintzy U.F.O.) and only a handful of genuinely moving scenes.This is a show with legs: It has already been performed in the Netherlands, Austria, Switzerland, Norway and Greece. (So far, however, no U.S. dates have been announced.) And it does seem to have been devised and designed for maximum portability. Luka Curk’s set consists of little more than flat, hand-painted backdrops, cutout waves jerked back and forth by the performers, and a shimmering blue cloth to represent the sea.Of course, a certain level of flimsiness is precisely the point of this winking, knowing operatic sendup: It’s decidedly a bargain basement production, and Copper and Liska’s ability to create a convincing and clean theatrical aesthetic out of the bare-bones staging is their main achievement here. Yet at even half its current length, “Burt Turrido” would be excruciating. Its 14 scenes (and epilogue) feel like a goofy sketch that has metastasized to operatic proportions.I would have felt bad for the performers who needed to drawl, warble and dance their way through the overlong evening, except that they appeared to be having more fun than the audience, a large portion of which fled at intermission. Beyond the spirited performances, there’s little to recommend “Burt Turrido,” which mostly feels like a joke that goes on far too long. Perhaps the biggest disappointment is how little the music adds. Here, too, the constant singing registers mostly as a gimmick, and there is little flair to Johanson’s score. The result is an impoverished “opera” where neither the music nor the drama is enriched through their combination.The cast of “Waiting for Platonov,” directed by Thom Luz, at the Residenztheater.Sandra ThenFor a sly and haunting marriage of those two elements, turn to “Waiting for Platonov,” an arrestingly musical production by the Swiss director Thom Luz at the Residenztheater in Munich. The title character of Chekhov’s early play, a womanizing schoolteacher who broods on his life of failure, never materializes during the production’s two and a half hours. Instead, a troupe of 10 actors recite snippets of dialogue drawn from the Russian writer’s work and break out in song while performing an energetic choreography that is precisely timed to a witty, inventive sound design.The title, with its nod to Beckett, can be interpreted in several ways. First of all, it proposes the Russian dramatist as a sort of precursor to the Irish Nobel Prize winner in his examination of futility as an existential component of human life. Chekhov’s characters cavort in dachas, while Beckett’s take up residence in trash cans — but they all feel the stifling dread and purposelessness of existence. The title may also refer to the fact that it took over four decades for Chekhov’s 1878 work to be published. The actors’ excitement and increasing exasperation over Platonov’s impending arrival parallels the writer’s frustrations with the play, which was rejected by Maria Yermolova, the great Russian actress to whom he sent the manuscript.Luz, an in-house director at the Residenztheater, brings a compositional rigor to his work that is occasionally reminiscent of the style of Christoph Marthaler and Herbert Fritsch, two influential older directors with keen musical sensibilities and a penchant for absurdity, but his enigmatic and astringent style is entirely his own. The show’s soundscape, devised by Luz, is full of popping mics, uncanny reverberations, sustained clusters of discordant notes and an out-of-tune mechanical piano. As the actors ascend and descend two large onstage staircases (also designed by Luz), their footfalls describe musical scales.Luz balances between the production’s abstract, aural elements and Chekhov’s decontextualized dialogue, which takes on a musical function as well through chanting. Although it is as far from traditional musical theater as “Burt Turrido. An Opera” is from “La Traviata,” “Waiting for Platonov” is a fusion of music, sound and text that is hypnotic, compelling and utterly fresh.Burt Turrido. An Opera. Directed by Kelly Copper and Pavol Liska. Oct. 27-29 at Kampnagel, in Hamburg; Nov. 3-5 at HAU — Hebbel am Ufer, in Berlin; Nov. 11-13 at Espoo City Theater, in Espoo, Finland.Waiting for Platonov. Directed by Thom Luz. Through Dec. 7 at the Residenztheater, in Munich. More

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      ‘Straight Line Crazy’ Review: The Road Rage of Robert Moses

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      Off Broadway at the Shed, Ralph Fiennes is glorious in David Hare’s sputtering portrait of the man who paved New York.I doubt I’d have enjoyed meeting the real Robert Moses, New York’s paver of highways, evictor of minorities, eminent domain eminence and all-purpose boogeyman. But it’s a huge pleasure to meet him, in the form of Ralph Fiennes, in David Hare’s “Straight Line Crazy,” which opened on Wednesday at the Shed.Whether the creature Hare and Fiennes create has anything to do with the creature that created modern Gotham remains, for a while, an irrelevant question. Moses’ actual demeanor and utterance, as portrayed in the nearly 1,300 pages of Robert Caro’s biography “The Power Broker,” are little in evidence at the Hudson Yards theater.Fiennes is too gloriously entertaining for that. Melodramatic in the old-fashioned sense, a hero or villain from an operetta or Ayn Rand, he crows his lines like a rooster, albeit in an accent suspended somewhere between East Anglia and Texas. With his nose pointing straight up and his chest pointing straight out, he’s a figurehead on the prow of a ship that can slice through icebergs as easily as red tape.Also through consonants: When he says “boardwalk” — a thing he despises, with its “so-called amusements” and “lox and bagel merchants” — the word has three syllables: the board, the wal and the k.So what if Moses is racist, antisemitic (though Jewish by birth) and an unabashed elitist who aims to advance ordinary people’s fortunes “without having any respect for their opinions”? Here he is wit and pith personified — and why would he not be, with lines honed by Hare in high-gloss mode?Usually that high gloss means Hare is up to some undermining; in plays like “Plenty,” “The Judas Kiss” and “Skylight,” good badinage almost always means bad faith.But in “Straight Line Crazy,” the connection is unclear, forcing you to ask why such a progressive playwright would spend even half a play valorizing a man who, among many other practical atrocities, displaced 7,000 families to clear space for Lincoln Center and 40,000 residents to build the Cross-Bronx Expressway. A clue in the script: “Moses’ life is so prodigious and his reach so great,” Hare notes, “that I have chosen to concentrate on just two decisive moments in his extraordinary career.”From left: Danny Webb as Gov. Alfred E. Smith, Fiennes and Judith Roddy as Finnuala Connell in the play, directed by Nicholas Hytner and Jamie Armitage.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesApparently, one act will try to counteract the other, so it makes sense that the production, directed by Nicholas Hytner and Jamie Armitage for the London Theater Company, should introduce us to Moses in 1926. At that time he is merely the chairman of the Long Island State Park Commission, and his antagonists are not yet sympathetic proles but out-of-touch gentry.These are the owners of Nassau County estates whose gorgeous seclusion, not to mention their orchards, are threatened by plans for the Northern and Southern State Parkways. The play’s first substantial scene is in fact with a (fictional) Vanderbilt, supplied with a big-eared butler named Fergus and an even bigger sneer.“Leave him at the end of the drive,” this Vanderbilt (Guy Paul) instructs the servant after dispensing with Moses.But of course it’s Moses who dispenses with Vanderbilt. In their scene together and in the long one that follows, at a headquarters that serves as a hive of urban planning, the power broker is shown breaking under- and overlings like twigs to get his way.I say he is “shown”; he is not dramatized except to the extent he is self-dramatized, with prompts from those underlings. (Their interruptions of “Why?” “What do they do?” and “What’s that?” amount to dramaturgy by laxative.) Perhaps because they too are fictional, and purpose-built, they have few characteristics except those that pertain to Moses: Ariel Porter (Adam Silver) is the meek one who backs off every argument, and Finnuala Connell (Judith Roddy) is the spunky one who stands up to him, at least on small points.It’s not until an official overling arrives that any actual drama occurs. He is Gov. Alfred E. Smith of New York, a populist Democrat who is Moses’ patron and also, one begins to suspect, his patsy. That piquant combination, along with Danny Webb’s hilariously earthy take on the governor, gives the interaction between the men, needling each other among the maps and models of Bob Crowley’s set, the unlikely spin of a Mutt and Jeff comedy starring Laurence Olivier and Jimmy Durante.Helen Schlesinger as Jane Jacobs, the journalist and urban theorist, fails to emerge, as she did in life, as Moses’ greatest foil.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesWhat’s going on beneath the comedy is less funny: On the theory that no one will tear up a road once it’s built, even if they’d have forbidden it beforehand, Moses orders construction to proceed on the parkways without having obtained the governor’s approval. That this is offered as an amusing example of flair and determination instead of a warning about subterfuge and megalomania means that Hare has either fallen under the Great Man’s spell or wants to make sure the audience has.Surely, you think during intermission, as you study the weird intrusion of the mall-like Hudson Yards into the city’s urban fabric, things will turn around in the second act, which the program tells you is set in 1956. That’s when Moses’ plan to extend Fifth Avenue through Washington Square Park met with fierce resistance from a new kind of opponent: the “minstrels and artistic women with handbags” of Greenwich Village. Cue Jane Jacobs.Alas, that journalist and urban theorist, who has so far popped up merely to say hello, fails to emerge, as she did in life, as Moses’ greatest foil. It’s a strange choice to make Jacobs (Helen Schlesinger) a minor character. Perhaps because of the inconvenience of history — the two never met — we are denied a direct confrontation, and with it a satisfactory climax.Instead, Hare goes uncharacteristically soggy, hauling Moses’ alcoholic wife into the conversation for pathos and having Finnuala, after decades in service to the builder’s vision, finally repudiate it. Moses loses on minor, mostly made-up points, not the knockout that Jacobs, Caro and time actually delivered.But even as the directors’ invention fades along with Hare’s — the community meetings, full of serious nodding, are especially silly — Fiennes never falters. His Moses, like his performance, becomes a car in search of a road, gunning the engine with nowhere to go.That’s no tragedy. The play is still a pleasure, and Moses is still in the doghouse. The man who, in Hare’s formulation, thinks cars are the “can opener” to the tin that is America would not recognize a Manhattan that after decades of discussion is soon to institute congestion pricing.If the efficiency of the brute is often superior to the fecklessness of democracy in getting things done, it is not always as lasting — which is reason enough to see “Straight Line Crazy.” In the midst of what feels right now like the losing fight of progressivism, it’s worth peeking at the devil, with fear and envy and a little schadenfreude.Straight Line CrazyThrough Dec. 18 at the Shed, Manhattan; theshed.org. Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes. More

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      Lucy Simon, Singer and Broadway Composer, Is Dead at 82

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      She and her sister Carly Simon were a folk duo in the 1960s. Years later, she wrote the Tony-nominated music for “The Secret Garden.”Lucy Simon, who with her sister Carly began performing and recording as the Simon Sisters during the folk revival of the 1960s, and who then almost three decades later became a Tony Award-nominated composer for the long-running musical “The Secret Garden,” died on Thursday at her home in Piermont, N.Y., in Rockland County. She was 82.Her family said the cause was metastatic breast cancer.Ms. Simon was the middle of three musical sisters. Her younger sister, Carly, became a best-selling pop star after their folk-duo days, and her older sister, Joanna, was an opera singer with an international career. Joanna Simon, at 85, died in Manhattan a day before Lucy Simon’s death.Lucy and Carly started singing together as teenagers. Their father, Richard, was the “Simon” of Simon & Schuster, the publishing house, so a heady list of guests came through the household, including Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II. Their mother was Andrea (Heinemann) Simon.“We would go to cocktail parties and bring our guitar and sing,” Lucy Simon told The New York Times in 2015. “And people loved it.”Eventually, she added, they said to each other, “Let’s see if we can pay our way by singing.”Carly was a student at Sarah Lawrence College and Lucy was studying at the Cornell University-New York Hospital School of Nursing in New York in the early 1960s when, during summer break, they took a bus to Provincetown, Mass. (They had wanted to hitchhike, but their mother squashed that plan.) They quickly landed a gig at a bar called Moors, whose musical act had just been drafted. They arrived for their first show in carefully selected matching blouses.“Only later did we learn that the Moors was a gay and lesbian bar,” Carly Simon wrote in her 2015 memoir, “Boys in the Trees.” “What the mostly uncombed, ripped-jeans-and-motorcycle-jacketed audience made of these two sisters is lost to time. Lucy and I had taken our wardrobe at the Moors pretty seriously, and in return the audience probably thought we were twin milkmaids from Switzerland, or escapees from a nearby carnival.”They called themselves the Simon Sisters, even though, as Carly Simon wrote, “Lucy and I agreed that our stage name sounded schlocky and borderline embarrassing, plus neither of us wanted to be labeled — or dismissed — as just another novelty sister act.”In that book, Ms. Simon recalled the sisterly dynamic during that first foray into performing.“Anyone paying close attention would have seen how hard I, Carly, the younger sister, was trying to look and act like Lucy, the older sister,” she wrote. “I was now taller than Lucy, but emotionally speaking, Lucy was still the high-up one, the light, the beauty, the center of it all. Then as now, my sister was my grounding influence, my heroine, my pilot.”Soon they had a contract with a management company and were booked into the Bitter End, the Greenwich Village club that gave numerous future stars their start. An appearance on the musical variety television show “Hootenanny” in the spring of 1963 (along with the Chad Mitchell Trio and the Smothers Brothers) further boosted their profile. They appeared on the show again in early 1964.Some years earlier, Lucy Simon had composed a setting of the Eugene Field children’s poem “Wynken, Blynken, and Nod,” and the song became a staple of the Simon Sisters’ performances. Released as a single in 1964, titled “Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod,” it reached No. 73 on the Billboard chart. It also anchored one of the two albums they quickly recorded.The two sisters toured for a time, but after her marriage in 1967 to Dr. David Y. Levine, a psychiatrist, Lucy Simon pulled back from performing to focus on their two children. In 1975, she released a solo album, titled simply “Lucy Simon,” followed in 1977 by another, “Stolen Time.” But she found she had lost her zeal for performing.In the early 1980s, she and her husband produced two compilation albums featuring James Taylor, her sister Carly, Linda Ronstadt, Bette Midler and other stars singing children’s songs. The albums, “In Harmony: A Sesame Street Record” and “In Harmony 2,” both won Grammy Awards for best children’s album.In the 1980s, Ms. Simon took a stab at musical theater, working on an effort to make a musical out of the “Little House on the Prairie” stories. That project never bore fruit, but a connection provided by her sister Joanna led her to one that did.Joanna Simon was for a time the arts correspondent for “The MacNeil/Lehrer NewsHour” on PBS, and in 1988 she interviewed the playwright Marsha Norman. She asked Ms. Norman what she was working on, and the playwright mentioned an adaptation of “The Secret Garden,” the Frances Hodgson Burnett children’s novel, and said that she and the producer Heidi Landesman were looking for a composer.Lucy, left, and Carly Simon singing in Shubert Alley along Broadway in 1982. Lucy Simon was later nominated for a Tony Award for best original score, for the hit musical “The Secret Garden.”Nancy Kaye/Associated PressLucy Simon proved to be a good fit for Ms. Norman’s lyrics. The show opened on Broadway in April 1991. Reviews were mixed — Frank Rich, in The Times, said that Ms. Simon’s music was “fetching when limning the deep feelings locked within the story’s family constellations” but not always successful — yet the show was a hit, giving 709 performances over almost two years. Ms. Simon earned a Tony nomination for best original score. (The award went to Cy Coleman, Betty Comden and Adolph Green for “The Will Rogers Follies.”)Ms. Simon reached Broadway again in 2015 as composer of the musical “Doctor Zhivago,” but the show lasted just 23 performances.Lucy Elizabeth Simon was born on May 5, 1940, in Manhattan.“We all came out singing,” she once said of herself and her sisters. “And we kept on singing. At dinner we wouldn’t just say, ‘Please pass the salt, thank you.’ We’d sing it. Sometimes in the style of Gershwin. Sometimes as a lieder.”Carly Simon wrote in her book that the pass-the-salt singing started as a way to help her — Carly — with a vexing stammer. Their mother had suggested that instead of speaking the phrase, Carly try singing it. With Joanna and Lucy joining in to encourage their sister, it worked.Lucy and Carly Simon during an interview with The New York Times in 2015 at Carly Simon’s home on Martha’s Vineyard, Mass.Ryan Conaty for The New York TimesLucy Simon’s greatest hit as a folk singer, the “Winkin’” song, had a self-help element to it. At 14, she was given a school assignment to memorize a poem, but dyslexia made it difficult. She found that she could memorize the Eugene Field poem by setting it to music. Her version was later recorded by numerous artists.Ms. Simon’s credits also included composing the music for a wild 1993 HBO movie, “The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader Murdering Mom,” which won Emmy Awards for Holly Hunter and Beau Bridges.Ms. Simon’s brother, Peter, a photographer, died in 2018. In addition to her husband and her sister Carly, she is survived by two children, Julie Simon and James Levine, and four grandchildren.In 1985, Ms. Simon was in the hospital for surgery. She told a reporter that her two sisters had turned up to give her support.“When the stretcher came to take me to the operating room, we sang three-part harmony,” she said. “It lifted me.” More

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      ‘Hound Dog’ Review: A Soul-Searching Journey Strays Off Course

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      Melis Aker’s new play with music, presented by Ars Nova and PlayCo., follows a musical prodigy without drive or passion.The young woman nicknamed Hound Dog might have studied musicology at Harvard, but all the panel members at her Royal Academy of Music audition seem to care about is that she’s from Turkey.“It’s like if Joni Mitchell had a bit of an orgy with a few Turkish folk musicians, and then had a very confused baby,” one of the panelists says of Hound Dog’s song. Another detects an “Americana” influence, “which is … surprising.” The first one wishes that she’d use “the traditional Turkish instrument,” though it’s unclear what that would be.What’s jarring about this scene is not so much that educators at the Royal Academy of Music would have such clichéd assumptions, but that their phrasing would be so clunky and vague — they’re deciding on admission to a prestigious institution, not a neighborhood after-school program. Unfortunately, this lack of focus and attendant lack of bite are fairly representative of Melis Aker’s new play with music, “Hound Dog,” which is being jointly presented by Ars Nova and PlayCo.When we meet her, Hound Dog (Ellena Eshraghi) is back in her hometown, Ankara, pondering whether to attend the conservatory (yes, she ended up being admitted), though the reasons for her hesitation are unclear. Complicating matters is her fraught relationship with her widowed father (Laith Nakli), with whom she is staying.Intertwined with his frustration and impatience with Turkey as a whole, Baba is a big rock ’n’ roll fan, with a particular fixation on Elvis Presley. Hound Dog sniffs at his taste with the dismissiveness of the newly enlightened. “I took a class called ‘Sound in the Uncanny Valley’ with this crazy professor,” she informs her childhood bestie, Ayse (the crackerjack Olivia AbiAssi, making the most of an underwritten role), before deriding “the appropriation and commercial simplicity” of her dad’s favorite bands.The dogmatism is amusing and on point. It is also contradicted by what we hear from Hound Dog’s own music. Her folk-rock audition number, “Only in Time” (performed, like the others in the show, by a live band headed by the coolly composed singer Sahar Milani), does sound like a Joni Mitchell pastiche, complete with vocal mannerisms, so who’s appropriating what now?But it’s hard to tell why Hound Dog writes in any particular style or even what animates her in general: This supposed prodigy is portrayed as lacking drive and passion. Mostly Hound Dog gabs with Ayse over some joints, argues with Baba, visits her dopey high school music teacher, Mr. Callahan (Matt Magnusson), and mopes as she attempts to deal with her unresolved grief over her mother’s death a year earlier.Aker had a promising subject in a woman who is deeply ambivalent about her life’s calling, and, by extension, herself. Hound Dog tries to navigate notions of authenticity and identity as she looks for her place in her family and in the world. The last is evoked by brief references to the ways social, political and cultural forces have long hurled against one another in Turkey, including an encounter with a cop who asks Baba, “Your folks never tell you about playing foreign music outside ’round here?”Because Hound Dog’s soul-searching remains blurry, Aker and the director, Machel Ross, can never quite make her equivocations compelling to watch — an ambiguous situation since the character is partly autobiographical, with stage directions that use the first-person singular whenever Hound Dog (referred to as “Me” in the script) is involved.Yet more unfulfilled promise comes from the musical numbers, written by Aker and the brothers Daniel and Patrick Lazour, who are credited as the Lazours. One wonders, for example, whose feelings the band’s frontwoman is meant to voice. She could be Hound Dog’s siren-like alter ego, or perhaps she is a half-fantasized vision of her late mother. Or a mix of both. No matter: It’s hard not to feel that Hound Dog is stuck on the outside of her own story, listening in.Hound DogThrough Nov. 5 at Greenwich House, Manhattan; arsnovanyc.com. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. More