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    Broadway’s ‘Music Man’ Names British Producer, Kate Horton, to Replace Rudin

    Kate Horton will become executive producer of the show, which stars Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster. It is scheduled to begin performances on Dec. 20.A veteran British theater administrator will take over the day-to-day management of a starry Broadway revival of “The Music Man,” assuming many of the duties previously performed by Scott Rudin.The administrator, Kate Horton, who previously held high-level management positions at the National Theater, Royal Court Theater and Royal Shakespeare Company in England, will become executive producer of “The Music Man,” which stars Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster, and which is scheduled to begin performances on Dec. 20 and to open Feb. 10.Rudin, who was the revival’s lead producer, departed that role earlier this year, saying he was stepping back from all of his theater and film productions amid renewed scrutiny of his bullying behavior toward subordinates and collaborators.Horton was hired by the business titans Barry Diller and David Geffen, who had been producing the revival alongside Rudin, and who are now the sole lead producers. The production, at the Winter Garden Theater, reunites much of the creative team behind the Tony-winning 2017 revival of “Hello, Dolly!,” led by the director Jerry Zaks.Horton currently runs, with her longtime collaborator Dominic Cooke, a British producing company called Fictionhouse. She was previously deputy executive director of the National Theater, executive director of the Royal Court Theater and commercial director of the Royal Shakespeare Company. She and Rudin both were previously involved with the team behind Little Island, a new park and performance space in New York, but no longer have any role there, a spokeswoman said.Horton declined a request for an interview.“The Music Man,” like many Broadway shows, has been delayed by the pandemic. It was originally scheduled to open last fall. The show sold a large number of tickets before the pandemic; rather than refunding those tickets, as many shows did, the production exchanged them for future seats. During the pandemic, the producers stopped selling new tickets; tickets to the show are going back on sale starting Tuesday.Several other Rudin-related Broadway productions have found new leadership teams. A stage adaptation of “To Kill a Mockingbird” named Orin Wolf as executive producer; the musical “The Book of Mormon” and the play “The Lehman Trilogy” said their existing leadership teams would simply proceed without Rudin. (“The Book of Mormon” is overseen by members of the “South Park” team, while “The Lehman Trilogy” is overseen by Britain’s National Theater.) More

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    ‘I Needed It’: A Well-Timed Outdoor Theater Opens on Little Island

    The island’s first performances, by Broadway Inspirational Voices choir, were post-pandemic catharsis for both the singers and the audience.The timing could not have been better.After the pandemic drove New Yorkers outdoors for everything from dining to haircuts, a 687-seat al fresco amphitheater opened for its first ticketed shows over the weekend on Little Island, the new oasis on the Hudson River, offering a new place for those tentatively re-emerging into crowds again to gather for open-air performances.The amphitheater opened with an emotionally rousing performance by Broadway Inspirational Voices, a professional choir run by Michael McElroy that is made up of chorus members who sang in Broadway musicals like “Ain’t Too Proud” and “The Lion King” before their theaters were shut down and they were thrust into unemployment.Some cheered, and some wept at the return of sights and sounds that had been in short supply during the many months of strict limitations: of hundreds of people piled into the curved wooden benches of the sleek new amphitheater, few of them masked, watching the sun set over the Hudson as a choir belted out “A Whole New World” from “Aladdin.”Michael McElroy, leader of Broadway Inspirational Voices choir and an artist in residence at Little Island, who started working on the show in January.Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesThe choir, made up of Broadway musical actors, performing at dusk. The audience cheered and wept at the return of live entertainment.Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesAt the show, McElroy urged the audience to reconnect with one another, opening with the line, “After the darkness, there is always the light.”Vincent Tullo for The New York Times“This is the first time that I’ve been here, and I’m overwhelmed,” said Barry Diller, the mega-mogul who paid for Little Island, before entering the amphitheater for Sunday’s performance.Although an outdoor theater was always part of the plan for Little Island, Diller had no idea how useful it would be as the city emerges from a pandemic — offering culture-starved New Yorkers a place for performances as indoor venues slowly begin to come back to life. “It’s the exact right moment,” he said.His family foundation will bankroll the first two decades of the park’s operations, which includes six days a week of arts programming. Without tickets to the amphitheater, visitors can perch themselves atop one of the island’s overlooks to peer down at the performances. Or, if they’re lucky, they can stumble upon one of the artists hired to perform at various spots on the island, like intentionally placed, well-paid buskers.The audience on Sunday. The sun sun set over the Hudson as a choir belted out “A Whole New World” from “Aladdin.”Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesThis weekend’s program was designed as a sort of post-pandemic catharsis for both the singers and the audience, some of whom rose from their seats to sway and clap along with the choir. It was shepherded by McElroy, whose homiletic interludes urged the audience to reconnect with one another, opening with the line, “After the darkness, there is always the light.”The evening of musical theater and gospel music was punctuated with drama and dance — which revolved around the themes of reawakening and reconnection. The actress Phylicia Rashad delivered a monologue about rediscovering the inner child; Daniel J. Watts and Ayodele Casel imitated sounds like thunder and a babbling brook with their tap shoes; Norm Lewis sang a commanding rendition of “Go the Distance” from “Hercules.”“Out of this space of necessary, required isolation, we come into a place that was created for community,” McElroy said in an interview.The evening featured musical theater, as well as gospel music, drama and dance — with themes of reawakening and reconnection. Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesThe show was McElroy’s last major performance with Broadway Inspirational Voices, a group that he founded in 1994, at a time when his friends were dying of AIDS and he saw a need for spiritual healing. Twenty-seven years later, McElroy has decided to leave the group to focus his time on other creative pursuits, as well as to serve as the musical theater chair at the University of Michigan.But first, McElroy wanted to put together a show that filled a new spiritual void created by the current pandemic.So in January, McElroy, an artist in residence at Little Island, started planning for a live concert scheduled for June, not knowing how quickly the city would be able to get vaccinated and return to see live theater. For the initial rehearsals, which happened on Zoom, members of the choir would gather virtually to go over the music and ask questions, then mute themselves when it was time to sing.In May, the choir moved to a spacious recording studio, where they sang socially distanced and masked. And at the end of the month, they started rehearsing in a park, and then eventually, on the island itself, which floats over the Hudson River near West 13th Street.“It’s the exact right moment” for outdoor theater, Barry Diller, the mega-mogul who paid for Little Island, said.Vincent Tullo for The New York Times“We were rehearsing on the faith that we would be able to come together and do this concert,” he said. “It all depended on where the world would be at this time.”While Broadway itself still has a few months to go before it returns in full force, about 60 of the industry’s chorus members were able to get onstage to sing songs from some of the most popular musicals of all time, including “Wicked” and “West Side Story,” as well as some of the newer musicals that were shuttered by the pandemic, including “Hadestown” and “Mrs. Doubtfire.”Watching from the audience, David Plunkett, 52, started out with his mask hanging from his wrist, then alternated between waving it in the air like it was a handkerchief at a church service, and using it to dab at his teary eyes.“I knew I needed it,” he said, “but I didn’t know how much I needed it.” More

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    A Guide to Theater Festivals in New York and the Berkshires

    From the Williamstown Theater Festival to New York Stage and Film, theatergoers can experience world premieres, concerts and more.Most summers, as tourists pour into New York City to see theater, New Yorkers pour out to see theater elsewhere. This summer, though, they may do so with extra ardor. As the pandemic lifts, the pent-up demand for live, in-person theater is first being met in the Berkshires and in the mid-Hudson region, where companies are putting up tents, arranging outdoor immersive experiences and welcoming audiences to buildings that have been empty for too long.Some of those companies are old and some new: The Williamstown Theater Festival has been at it since 1955, but Great Barrington Public Theater just started in 2019. Shakespeare & Company, as its name implies, goes heavy on classics — starting July 2, Christopher Lloyd plays King Lear — while Barrington Stage Company focuses on musicals and new plays. For mainstream fare (if “The Importance of Being Earnest,” opening next week, counts as mainstream), look to the Berkshire Theater Group. For something more experimental, try Bard SummerScape or New York Stage and Film.Wherever you go — below, our critics highlight five possibilities — you will still find pandemic precautions in place. (Check each theater’s website for specific safety policies.) Even so, after a dark time, these summer shows and festivals truly offer something to celebrate. JESSE GREENWilliamstown Theater FestivalAudiences have always been drawn to the Williamstown Theater Festival for its artistry, which is strong, and its geography, which is sublime. Tucked amid the Berkshires on the campus of Williams College, in a corner of western Massachusetts that’s just a meander away from Vermont, it seems like the kind of spot that would have an open-air stage or two.In an ordinary summer, no such luck. But this year, Williamstown is taking its slate of world premieres outside.The first stop is the front lawn, where the season starts with “Celebrating the Black Radical Imagination: Nine Solo Plays.” Curated by Robert O’Hara, a current Tony Award nominee for his direction of “Slave Play,” the production offers three separate programs, each made up of three 30-minute plays: by Guadalís Del Carmen, France‑Luce Benson and NSangou Njikam (July 6 to 10); J. Nicole Brooks, Terry Guest and Ike Holter (July 13 to 18); and Charly Evon Simpson, Ngozi Anyanwu and Zora Howard (July 20 to 25).“Row,” a production of the Williamstown Theater Festival, will take place on the grounds of the Clark Art Institute, which a reflecting pool.Tony Cenicola/The New York TimesDown the road at the Clark Art Institute, from July 13 to Aug. 8, the museum’s vast reflecting pool will become the stage for “Row,” Daniel Goldstein and Dawn Landes’s musical, starring the singer-songwriter Grace McLean, part of the original Broadway cast of “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812.” Directed by Tyne Rafaeli, “Row” is inspired by Tori Murden McClure’s memoir, “A Pearl in the Storm,” about rowing solo across the Atlantic Ocean.And from July 20 to Aug. 8 around the town of Williamstown, audiences can experience the immersive performance “Alien/Nation” on foot or by car. The director Michael Arden and his company, the Forest of Arden, who made last summer’s immersive “American Dream Study” in the Hudson Valley, teamed up with the playwrights Jen Silverman and Eric Berryman for this one, which uses local history from 1969 as a starting point. (wtfestival.org) LAURA COLLINS-HUGHESBard SummerScapeThe Frank Loesser musical “The Most Happy Fella” boasts one of the most wondrous scores of the 1950s — a decade filled with stiff competition. The show is packed with songs whose styles are mixed and matched with formidable agility, going from operatic arias to dance romps to jazzy croons and back again.Yet “The Most Happy Fella” is less famous than, say, Loesser’s “Guys and Dolls,” and that might have something to do with what some might generously call its baggage. The middle-aged, homely title character, Tony, an Italian immigrant prone to mangling English, falls for, deceives and eventually wins over a younger waitress. This plot has not aged well.This makes the prospect of the director Daniel Fish’s “Most Happy in Concert” (Aug. 5-7) even more intriguing — especially since his ensemble is made up of seven female and nonbinary performers. (While SummerScape events usually take place on the Bard campus, in Annandale-on-Hudson, N.Y., this year’s productions will be performed at the Stage at Montgomery Place, an outdoor venue in nearby Red Hook.)Daniel Fish’s upcoming “Most Happy in Concert” at Bard SummerScape will feature Mallory Portnoy, third from left above, and Mary Testa, above right. They both appeared in Fish’s “Oklahoma!” production, above, at Bard in 2015, with, from left: Mitch Tebo, James Patrick Davis, John Carlin and Benj Mirman.Lauren Lancaster for The New York TimesOf course, the experimentally minded director has been there and successfully done that already: In 2015, also at Bard, he took “Oklahoma!,” long associated with a certain aw-shucks all-Americanness, and pulled off a “vibrant, essential excavation,” as Ben Brantley put it in his review of the premiere production. The show went on to win the Tony Award for best revival four years later.Now Fish is teaming up again with his “Oklahoma!” musical collaborators, Daniel Kluger and Nathan Koci, and the actresses Mary Testa (Aunt Eller) and Mallory Portnoy (Gertie Cummings), who will sing alongside the likes of the “Toni Stone” star April Matthis and the protean performer Erin Markey. Whether a full production ever happens remains a mystery for now, but the prospect of this director with this cast and this score is enough to light up August. (fishercenter.bard.edu) ELISABETH VINCENTELLIBarrington Stage CompanyLast year, this regional theater in the Berkshires, a proving ground for new musicals, announced a truncated summer season. But state directives meant that its artistic director, Julianne Boyd, had to constrict it even further, moving an indoor show, “Harry Clarke,” outdoors. But summer 2021 promises more shows in more venues, inside and out.Mark H. Dold in last year’s production of “Harry Clarke,” at Barrington Stage Company.Daniel RaderThis season begins, in a tent on the Barrington Stage Campus, with a celebration of the songs of George Gershwin (June 10-July 3). Directed by Boyd, it stars Allison Blackwell, Alan H. Green, Britney Coleman, Jacob Tischler and Alysha Umphress. The tent will also host “Boca” (July 30-Aug. 22), an evening of Jessica Provenz’s short comedies about Florida seniors; as well as concert evenings featuring the Broadway stars Elizabeth Stanley (June 28), Jeff McCarthy (July 24) Joshua Henry (Aug. 16), and the husband-and-wife pair Orfeh and Andy Karl (Aug. 23). The couple, who met in the Broadway adaptation of “Saturday Night Fever” and later appeared together in “Legally Blonde,” call the show “Legally Bound.” Aaron Tveit, a current Tony nominee for “Moulin Rouge! The Musical,” will perform at the theater’s gala.Indoors, the father-and-son Reed and Ephraim Birney star in the lachrymose two-hander “Chester Bailey,” starting on Friday. Harriet Harris then appears in “Eleanor” (July 16-Aug. 1), Mark St. Germain’s one-woman play about Eleanor Roosevelt. And the New Yorker writer Alec Wilkinson adapts his article about the conceptual art project, the Apology Line, into a new play, “Sister Sorry” (Aug. 13-29), directed by Richard Hamburger. (barringtonstageco.org) ALEXIS SOLOSKINew York Stage and FilmTheater is not just what you see when it’s finished, it’s what goes on beforehand. New York Stage and Film, an incubator of works in development, provides that “beforehand”; something called “The Hamilton Mixtape” showed up there in 2013, two years before it opened as “Hamilton” on Broadway.Usually held on the campus of Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, the festival looks a little different this year. The pandemic has pushed its events into various venues around town, and the Black Lives Matter movement has pushed it, like all arts organizations, to rethink programming. The new artistic director, Chris Burney, has responded with a promising slate of work from Black, Latinx and Asian American artists.The big draw, on July 31 and Aug. 1, is Michael R. Jackson’s “White Girl in Danger,” a follow-up to his 2020 Pulitzer Prize winner, “A Strange Loop.” Directed by Lileana Blain-Cruz, “White Girl” is a satire of Lifetime Original-style movies as seen from a Black woman’s perspective, but Jackson’s radically sympathetic worldview suggests more than a little love in the critique.Daveed Diggs, left, and Lin-Manuel Miranda working on “The Hamilton Mixtape” at New York Stage and Film in 2013.Buck Lewis, via New York Stage and FilmJackson is not the only theater artist exploring race and danger in Poughkeepsie this summer. “Mexodus,” a “concept album” created and performed by Brian Quijada and Nygel D. Robinson, is about the thousands of enslaved people who instead of heading north on the Underground Railroad went south to Mexico (July 17 and 24). “South,” by Florencia Iriondo and Luis D’Elias, is a one-woman musical inspired by Iriondo’s experiences as a Latina in the United States (July 23 and 24). And “Interstate,” by Melissa Li and Kit Yan, follows a transgender slam poet and a lesbian singer-songwriter on an eventful cross-country journey (July 25).New York Stage and Film is for artists, yes, but since artists need feedback, it’s for audiences as well. (Most events are “pay what you can.”) Who isn’t it for? Critics. We can go, but can’t review, which makes it a real vacation for everyone. (newyorkstageandfilm.org) JESSE GREENHudson Valley Shakespeare FestivalThe serenity that descends on visitors upon arrival at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival has everything to do with the landscape as seen from the bluff — breathtaking river, low mountains and sky. Never mind the saber-rattling name of the town, Garrison, or the fact that West Point is across the water, barely downstream. These grounds, at the historic Boscobel House and Gardens, are a soothing setting for pre-performance picnics and a gorgeous backdrop to the stage in the open-air tent as sunset turns to night.“As You Like It,” at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival in 2016.T Charles Erickson, via Hudson Valley Shakespeare FestivalStill, it is an area with a particular reverence for the Revolutionary War, which makes the festival’s season opener an enticingly provocative match. “The Most Spectacularly Lamentable Trial of Miz Martha Washington” — directed by Taylor Reynolds and running June 24 to July 30 — is by James Ijames, one of the most exhilarating playwrights the American theater has right now. Set at Mount Vernon as the widowed Martha lies ill, tended to by enslaved people whose freedom is promised as soon as she dies, it is described as a fever dream — and if it’s anywhere near as brilliant as Ijames’s Sally Hemings-Thomas Jefferson satire “TJ Loves Sally 4 Ever,” it could be unmissable.So it’s helpful that both of the festival’s live productions this summer will be filmed for streaming. But if you can, do yourself a favor and go in person. “The Tempest,” directed by Ryan Quinn and running Aug. 5 to Sept. 4, will be the company’s goodbye to Boscobel, its home of 34 years. The theater isn’t going far — just upriver to Philipstown — but if you want to catch that stellar view from the tent, this is last call. (hvshakespeare.org)LAURA COLLINS-HUGHES More

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    Raja Feather Kelly and 'The Kill One Race': TV and Theater

    Raja Feather Kelly’s “The Kill One Race” and “This American Wife” exist in a realm between, changing our relationship with what we witness.There’s reality and there’s fiction: an easy distinction to make, right? Well things aren’t always so cut and dried, especially when we consider the performances we undertake in our real lives and the fictional stories that borrow from reality — the boundaries between what’s true and what’s false often get blurred.In Playwrights Horizons’ new series, “The Kill One Race,” reality TV meets theater for an examination of the ways we shape our values, form relationships and bounce between the realms of reality and fiction in both our entertainment and our daily lives. This streaming production, and another recent digital theater hybrid, “This American Wife,” reflects how the peculiar combination of theater and reality TV may complicate the viewers’ contract with the art form and their understanding of what is artifice and what is truth.“The Kill One Race,” conceived by the choreographer Raja Feather Kelly and his company Feath3r Theory, brings us to a dystopia where 24-year-olds become contestants in a reality competition full of social experiments. The most ethical person in the group is granted the honor of dying and ascending to the Empire, a vague Xanadu of eternal comfort and righteousness.Seven characters compete over seven days that are rife with challenges and schemes and manipulations. You may be thinking of “The Hunger Games” or any of the countless other dystopian works of fiction that involve monitored competitions. Despite the proliferation of these stories, I was still surprised by the variation theater brought to the theme. Filmed at Playwrights Horizons and released over the course of eight overly lengthy episodes, “The Kill One Race” so closely mimics the style of “Big Brother,” “The Real World” and other classic reality series that “theater” feels like a terribly insufficient way to describe it.Kelly, who also directs, borrows the filming conventions of the genre, with many split screens, confessionals and voyeuristic close-ups. He uses the techniques so well, in fact, that the naturalism is jarring — confusing, even. The performances of the cast, too, are so exact and understated, with each actor having such a clear understanding of his or her character’s disposition and way of thinking that the ethical discussions feel uncannily real.Jamen Nanthakumar, left, and Raja Feather Kelly, who created and performs in the production. Kate EnmanThis is what tripped me up (other than the production’s long run time and the fascinating though similarly overlong Ethics 101 discussions): Was I actually watching some kind of social experiment, featuring real people responding in real ways within the scaffolding of a fictional world?It reminded me of the discomfort I felt watching “This American Wife,” with its meta play on the Bravo “Real Housewives” franchise that reproduced actual scenes and dialogue from the shows alongside scripted and improvised material. In my review I wondered what was improvised, what was borrowed from the franchise and what was real.My problem has to do with the question of artifice and honesty — fitting for a show about ethics. I avoid watching reality TV dramas because the performances of these supposedly “real-life” scenarios are too transparent. They feel disingenuous, parodies of reality despite the shows’ claims to the contrary. And this extends beyond the frames of the TV screen — the carefully curated fiction of characters’ stories and their relationships with one another become part of those individuals’ celebrity. It’s profitable.Though theater isn’t an art form of total honesty either, it is its own kind of artifice; the difference is in the presentation of that fiction. In theater there is the expectation of fantasy — we sit in an audience and wait for the curtains to open. When we step into a theater we agree to suspend our disbelief for the duration of a show. Reality TV, however, depicts lives that continue without intermissions and characters who actually exist in the world.When these two realms collide, then, as they do in “The Kill One Race” and “This American Wife,” it warrants a renegotiation of terms between the theatrical production and the audience — a redefinition of the art form and what is generally known and expected of it in its most traditional forms.I’ve stated my unease with this collision between reality TV and the “honest” fiction of theater, but that’s not to say that this is an aberration — or even an error — that productions ought to avoid. In fact, such contortions and hybridizations of theater and other media allow art to confront audiences with their preconceived notions about which stories should be told in which ways. In the end, perhaps the truest sentiments lie somewhere in the space between reality and theater.The KILL ONE RaceThrough July 4; thekillonerace.com More

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    ‘Liminality’ Is Theater of the Mind That Explores the In-Between

    A new virtual reality experience in Williamsburg marries wondrous production values with banal narratives.The word “liminality,” which broadly refers to intermediate or transitional spaces, evokes visions of New Age-y women with flowing scarves, armchair psychologists or insidious miracle drugs in Burgess-esque dystopias. There’s a bit of all three in “Liminality” at the Museum of Future Experiences (MoFE), a venue and production studio in Williamsburg for virtual reality and immersive audio storytelling. Meditation meets philosophy meets sound bath meets gaming meets Lululemon yogic retreat in a sprawling, enveloping experience that’s inviting and eye-catching, but too conceptually broad and self-satisfied for its own good.You enter the space through a nondescript doorway off Grand Street, which leads to a lobby that offers a few micro-exhibitions for audiences waiting to embark into the liminal realm. On one side a “Virtual Boy” VR headset sits on display and on another, a chest of drawers invites audience members to explore its contents at their leisure. Issues of old pulp fiction magazines sit on top, along with magnifying glasses, and drawers reveal Rorschach tests and books on psychology and surreal art.A guide who is reminiscent of a flight attendant greets the audience, preparing them for a sojourn into a place of “uncertainty, chaos and metamorphosis.” The room where “Liminality” takes place, with its walls of thick curtains, Ambisonic speakers set in towering obelisks and lounge chairs — each with a VR headset — set up in four rows around a central aisle, feels less like a theater than the antechamber of an Epcot ride.Though is this even theater? Theater is perhaps the closest term to describe the experience, but even that is poorly suited; “Liminality” evades any one category or definition, though what else could we expect from a show that’s all about the in-between spaces in perceptions and realities?So let’s just say it’s a theater of the mind. The 70-minute production is split into different segments, some of which are immersive soundscapes and audio performances, and others that are more guided meditations. These are interrupted by three short films that the audience watches via the VR headsets.Stately gongs and dreamy swells of sound announce an introspective performance tailored by each audience member’s imagination. A narrator talks you through a guided visualization where you’re meant to find a field, trees and your own childhood self before floating off into ethereal realms. Warning: Your mileage may vary. Whether the exercise grants you enlightenment or a short nap depends on your own mental performance (my experience skewed closer to a siesta). Either way, the segment, which bookends “Liminality,” is the most pedantic and least interesting part of the show.That’s more the fault of the script than the technical elements of “Liminality,” which don’t disappoint. The sounds are succulent and otherworldly; even the thunder and rainfall of a storm during an audio segment called “The Doldrums,” about a captain and crew stranded in the ocean, are rendered with such sonic dimension that I was surprised to find myself still perfectly dry and sheltered at the scene’s conclusion. The lighting, from the room’s shifting hues to the soft beams of the Edison bulbs in the overhead lamps to the ultraviolet gleam that gave the lettering of my T-shirt an iridescent nightclub glow, is phantasmagoric.But it’s the VR-based segments that are most transporting. The first VR short film, “Life-Giver,” created by Petter Lindblad and Alexander Rönnberg, follows a family on a journey to catch the last transport ship off a dying, post-apocalyptic Earth. The second, “Mind Palace,” written and directed by Carl Krause and Dominik Stockhausen, is a sensual, impressionistic examination of the end of a relationship. The final VR film is “Conscious Existence,” created by Marc Zimmerman in collaboration with MoFE. It’s a sumptuously illustrated existential journey through earthly landscapes and the far reaches of space.The vibrancy of the visuals, combined with the tactile vibrations of the VR device — rendering crashes and quakes — make for an experience that combines the immediacy of theater, the visual dialect of film and the technological rush of gaming. It all adds up to a strikingly immersive feat of world-building: You can survey a sky full of constellations overhead or turn around to see the rubble of a broken Earth extend toward a horizon. (Audience members who wear glasses, however, along with those prone to vertigo, may find all this Matrix-esque exploration tiring and discombobulating.)The narratives are hit and miss. “Mind Palace” is gorgeously executed, but the elegant scenes don’t provide enough narrative context. A sentient pool of blood that ebbs and gushes around the two men implies violence, but what kind of violence? Literal? Metaphorical? It isn’t clear.The sublime landscapes of “Conscious Existence,” with the purple and pink nebulae, swaying forests and carnivalesque pops and whorls of light, recall the transcendental filmmaking of Terrence Malick. The voice-over narratives are less impressive; the didacticism of the monologues exacerbate the self-consciously meditative style of the performances.For all of the technical originality of “Liminality,” what ends up staying with you is the banality of the stories and themes. “Life-Giver” gave me flashbacks of every post-apocalyptic sci-fi film from the past few decades. An audio segment called “Death of a Cave Allegory,” a modern retelling of Plato’s famous parable, felt like an unremarkable excerpt from an undergraduate philosophy class.That’s also indicative of the larger problem of “Liminality”: It aims to tackle a concept so vast and multifaceted, it has no clear definition of its subject or focus for its intentions. A liminal space can be twilight or purgatory or the realm of dreams. It can be the middle ground between immigration and citizenship, or a trans or nonbinary way of identifying sexuality. “Liminality” is both too large and too narrow, its smattering of narratives and sonic explorations only revealing all the other routes the show could take.Though that’s the problem with liminality, isn’t it? The innate paradox: It can be everything and nothing all at once.LiminalityAt the Museum of Future Experience, Brooklyn; mofe.co More

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    André De Shields Isn’t Done With ‘King Lear’ (or ‘Hadestown’)

    The actor is performing the coveted role for a second time, and is already aiming for a third. But first: He’s returning to Broadway in September.A throne fit for André De Shields: The actor is portraying “King Lear” at the St. Louis Shakespeare Festival. “The lesson we learn about empathy is for 21st-century America still going through the woes of the pandemic,” he said of the play.Whitney Curtis for The New York TimesST. LOUIS — It takes André De Shields two and a half hours to lose his mind.His turbulent descent into madness, as King Lear at the St. Louis Shakespeare Festival in Forest Park here, comes with the moments of grandiosity we now expect from the man who won a Tony Award for playing a god, Hermes, in “Hadestown” on Broadway. He dances onto the stage in one early scene, jubilantly waving an automatic weapon in the air alongside the Afrofuturistic soldiers of his North African nation; later he stumbles through the park in a leafy makeshift crown, hollering in the face of an unsuspecting patron seated in the grass.But De Shields’s towering presence is somehow more captivating in the quiet beats — perhaps most strikingly when he carries the corpse of his daughter in his arms, unwavering, halfway across the stage.“André has a natural majesty and regality in his being that to me denotes majesty and command, just the way he moves through time and space,” the director, Carl Cofield, said in an interview. “And I’m happy to report that he brings it.”De Shields, 75, has kept remarkably busy through the pandemic: When Broadway theaters were shuttered, he portrayed Frederick Douglass in a one-man performance at Flushing Town Hall in Queens, starred in “Ratatouille: The TikTok Musical,” did a virtual reading at Red Bull Theater, narrated a Greek mythology-inspired audio series. And between his closing-night performance of “King Lear” on June 27 and his return to “Hadestown” on Broadway on Sept. 2, he has concert performances lined up at the Cabaret in Indianapolis and Feinstein’s/54 Below.During a recent phone interview, De Shields discussed returning to Broadway, the importance of believability in storytelling and playing Lear a second time. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.How do you have the strength and stamina to pull off the kind of physically demanding performance you’re giving in “King Lear”?We had a long discussion about, first of all: Was André De Shields fit enough, strong enough, to carry his daughter Cordelia, who is actually taller than he is? I convinced my collaborators that is not the question to be asked — because I am strong at 75, I’m physically fit.The real question is: Considering the emotional roller coaster that King Lear has to ride in this play, how could you even consider that he wouldn’t have the delicious burden of having to carry the corpse of his daughter that he so mistreated? To have the king not carry the body, you’d have the entire audience questioning the validity of the performance. I use as my evidence the film version of King Lear that was done by the master Lear, Sir Laurence Olivier. He does the “howl, howl, howl” speech, and he’s holding Cordelia in his arms, but cinematic technology had not advanced so much then that if you looked very hard, you could see the piano wires holding up the body.Even then as a young person, I thought, this is outrageous. It absolutely undoes the excellence of the performance to know that any part of it is false. Now, I had no dreams of doing “King Lear” at the time, but it was a lesson that I took into my toolbox about the believability of storytelling. So when it came for my first experience in assaying the role of Lear, which was in 2006 with the Classical Theater of Harlem, the director said to me, “As much as I want you to play the role, if you cannot carry Cordelia’s body onstage, I can’t cast you.” And I said, “Well, you’ve chosen the right guy. Because not only can I carry her body onstage; I can do the entire monologue with her in my arms.”That was during the marking of my 60th birthday, and I thought then, I’d like to revisit Lear in about 10 years. So this was 15 years later, and the question comes up again. And my response was the same. I must. I can, but it must happen.From left, Brian McKinley, André De Shields, Nicole King and Michael Tran in an Afrofuturistic “King Lear.”Phillip Hamer PhotographyIt is believed that Shakespeare wrote this play on the heels of a pandemic. Has that been on your mind in preparing for this show during such a unique time?Yes. It is informed by that bubonic plague, where the ordinary citizen, if you will, was reacting to the same things we were reacting to: fear, outrage, chaos, stasis, all of the rules of society that come to bear when the playing field has been finally leveled. What the pandemic did was to create a kind of society where everyone had to obey the same rules — whether you’re rich or poor or white or Black, you have to wear the face mask, you have to practice physical distancing, you have to shelter in place. And this drove people nuts. It drove me nuts.So part of what we are revealing here is that the king that we are encouraged and taught to have so much empathy for is probably one of the most specific illustrations of unmitigated white male supremacy, and all of the evils that go with it — like homophobia, misogyny — that’s all part of the king’s character. You can’t see it immediately because it’s hidden by so much language. But when you strip that language away, you see exactly that this is a man, to put it mildly, who does not like womanhood and blames everything on what he sees as the evil of his daughters. So the lesson that he knows at the end, when he bemoans the death of Cordelia, is a lesson for us in the 21st-century world. The lesson we learn about empathy is for 21st-century America still going through the woes of the pandemic.Did you approach this role differently than you did 15 years ago?The first thing I did was to forget that I had done “King Lear” before. I had to look at this man through the eyes of someone who was now closer to his specific age. That’s why I mentioned that the first time I did it, I was 60. The second time I’m doing it, I’m 75. So the next time I do it, I will be age-specific: King Lear is remembered to be 83. And I am going to do it a third time.But what is more important than the relativism of age is the curiosity that is lodged by doing the play a second time. One of the things we lose as we mature is curiosity: being interested in things other than yourself, other than your corner of the world. But returning to “King Lear” during a pandemic has actually opened me up. And that muscle of curiosity is stronger than it’s ever been — which is one of the reasons why, for two and a half hours, I can assault the stage the way I do.“I want to get to the pinnacle of ‘Hadestown’ and then look up and keep climbing,” André De Shields said of why he’s eager to return to Broadway in September.Whitney Curtis for The New York TimesIn a year in which many of us have struggled with staying productive and creative, how have you kept this busy?I’ve been answering the call that is obvious, to me anyway, that the zeitgeist, the paradigm, is changing. And it’s calling for healers, those of us who see the malady, who want to look for the people who understand that this is the time for coordination, cooperation, communication, collaboration. We need one another.The need now is those of us who want to build bridges, not destroy them. Those of us who want to help the new world come to life, not those of us who look over our shoulders and say, “Oh, wasn’t that a better time.” And that would keep you busy. There’s a lot of work to be done.How does it feel to be coming back to “Hadestown”?I don’t know if you’re familiar with my Tony Award acceptance speech — I received my award and shared with the audience what I called my three cardinal rules for sustainability and longevity. Because they tell you if you’re fortunate enough to receive the award, you have only 90 seconds to speak — and I’ve seen too many of my colleagues try to thank 100 people in 90 seconds. You can’t do it. So I thought, let me drop a wisdom bomb.The first thing I said was, surround yourself with people whose eyes light up when they see you coming. Rule No. 2 was: Slowly is the fastest way to get to where you want to be. And then the third, which is why I’m bringing this whole thing up: The top of one mountain is the bottom of the next. As you achieve different pinnacles, don’t ever think you’ve made it. Don’t ever think you’ve arrived. Take a few moments, take in the view, the vista, the panorama, then lift your chin and see there is another mountain that you have to ascend. That’s called life.The pandemic interrupted the timing of that particular mountain. So I want to get to the pinnacle of “Hadestown” and then look up and keep climbing. Now I’ve already mentioned, but one of the other mountains is the third time that I play the role of King Lear — and then I want to direct it.But here’s my mountain of mountains: I want to break the Methuselah Code. Methuselah is the longest living individual in the history of mankind. He lived to be 969 years. I want to live to be 970. More

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    In the Weeds of ‘In the Heights’

    The film adaptation of the Tony-winning musical “In the Heights” was released this month, one of the first blockbuster movies to arrive after more than a year of pandemic shutdowns. The original musical was the breakthrough for Lin-Manuel Miranda, who wrote its music and lyrics and went on to gain global fame with “Hamilton.”The film opened to successful box office numbers, but also spawned several critical conversations, particularly about the lack of Afro-Latino representation among the film’s lead actors, and the ways in which it failed to capture the full mosaic of the actual neighborhood of Washington Heights.On this week’s Popcast, a conversation about Miranda’s evolutionary approach to the musical theater lineage, how the film left certain elements of the musical on the cutting room floor and the critical blowback brought on by the film’s casting choices.Guests:Sandra Garcia, a Styles reporter for The New York TimesIsabelia Herrera, an arts critic fellow for The New York Times’s Culture deskLena Wilson, a film critic who has written for The New York Times, Slate and others More

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    With ‘In the Heights,’ Jimmy Smits Sings a Little but Gave It a Lot

    He doesn’t have a musical theater background, so he worked hard to make one line — “Good morning, Usnavi” — ring out. Now that’s how he’s being greeted.Why shouldn’t your morning stop at a bodega be worthy of a break-into-song moment? That’s the winning way “In the Heights” introduces Jimmy Smits’s character: He strolls into the corner store run by Usnavi (Anthony Ramos) to pick up his café con leche while cheerfully crooning, “Good mooorning, Usnavi!” In a musical filled with all sorts of twisty wordplay from the lyricist Lin-Manuel Miranda, somehow this simple line is the most sublime — and hey, who knew the Emmy-winning actor from “N.Y.P.D. Blue” and “L.A. Law” could carry a tune?Directed by Jon M. Chu, the screen adaptation of the Broadway show casts Smits in the supporting role of Kevin Rosario, a car-service owner who’s determined to put his wavering daughter, Nina (Leslie Grace), through an expensive college education. But is that his dream and not hers? The characters have an awfully complicated clash that Smits was eager to take on, but first he had to make it through “Good morning, Usnavi,” the line that loomed above all others. Last month over Zoom, Smits told me just how much went into that brief moment.These are edited excerpts from our conversation.Are you prepared to have people singing “Good morning, Usnavi,” to you for the rest of your life? Have people already started?I’m actually OK with that! On the family text thread that my kids and everybody’s on, that’s the way they’ll say hi now: Instead of, “Hey tio” or “Yo pops,” they’ll go, “Good morning, Usnavi.”That’s your very first line in the movie. I would imagine there was a lot of pressure to nail that moment in cast read-throughs, since people don’t really know you as a singing actor.That’s when you get, “Have you been in a musical before? I didn’t know you sang.” And I don’t! I don’t sang with the S-A-N-G. There’s some people in that cast, they can sang — I just tried to hold my own. All I know is that when I got through those first couple of lines, everybody was smiling. There were no people looking down at the scripts.Still, you’ve done a little bit of in-character singing before in episodes of “N.Y.P.D. Blue” and “The West Wing.” And I know you did a cameo on “Cop Rock” back in the day, but I couldn’t find out whether they made you sing or not.You’re embarrassing the hell out of me. No, I didn’t sing on that.Jimmy, you appeared on “Cop Rock” and you didn’t sing? What’s the point?That’s exactly right. Oh, man! Even on this, I had six lines that were musical, and I had four different vocal coaches. Warner Bros. was telling my agents like, “Really? Does he have to have two vocal coaches on each coast?” Yeah, because I wanted to be on point as much as possible!And even though it’s just a few sung lines, they do convey a lot.I appreciate you saying that because even with the three lines that are in that song, we did this whole character-based, psychological approach. It’s a switch-up from the rhymes that are happening, and it’s more your traditional thing. Originally I was like, “I’m going to make this count, and I want it to be big!” And they were like, “No, no, no. Let’s talk about the character and what’s going on there.” It was part of the exact same things that I had to do with the back-and-forth dramatic scenes in the family.Smits grew up in Brooklyn, but from age 10 to 12, he lived in Puerto Rico: “Everything that I am now as an adult relates to that experience.”Ryan Pfluger for The New York TimesWhat did you do on set to get yourself into that musical mode?I like to use music a lot, especially when I’m in prep for something, and I was playing my boy Carlos Gómez [who originated the role onstage]. I was playing “Inutil” over and over again, which is the song he sings from the Broadway version. So Carlos, he was with me the whole time.And he does a pretty great “Good morning, Usnavi,” too.Pretty great? It’s incredible!Do you remember when you first met Lin-Manuel Miranda?There was a friend of mine who worked at the Drama Book Shop who told me, “There’s these kids from Wesleyan doing stuff in the basement here. Jimmy, they’re the real deal.” And then a couple years later, I was at 37 Arts with my lady, seeing “In the Heights” Off Broadway, and we realized, “Oh, this is the kid that Stu was talking about. This is the new wave.” Next thing I know, he’s spitting rhymes for Barack and Michelle.I remember telling them when they went to Broadway, “Anything you need from me …” He gave me a call one day and said, “We’re going to do the commercial for the show. Could you do the voice-over?” “Come on, man. Yes, I’m there!” During my first meeting with Jon, I actually referenced Michelle Yeoh in terms of “Crazy Rich Asians,” and I was saying, “I want to do what she did for that film. I want to help in any way I can.”You grew up in New York. Could you relate to what these characters are going through?I grew up in Brooklyn, but I lived all over New York, and we moved to Puerto Rico from 10 to 12. I went from listening to Motown and R&B and the Beatles to boom, I’m in Puerto Rico listening to Trio Los Panchos. Everything that I am now as an adult relates to that experience: Where do you fit in? I think all of the moving around has something to do with me doing what I do.Smits in “In the Heights.” He didn’t even get to sing when he appeared in a cameo on “Cop Rock.”Macall Polay/Warner Bros.You had to learn how to play different sides of yourself to different types of people.Absolutely. And in Puerto Rico, it was traumatic because I was the Yankee! But everything that I hold dear to me in terms of culture comes from that time that I can trace back. The speech that Kevin has about shining shoes? I shined shoes in the plaza in Ponce, I know what that was like as a kid and how it resonates. Even when I do Shakespeare and Shaw and Pinter, there are parts of me culturally that make all of those roles unique, but here there are things that I can really relate to because I can channel my tios, my uncles, and my parents and all their expectations and hopes and dreams on a wonderful level.How did your family feel about you becoming an actor?Well, I don’t come from a musical or theatrical kind of background. It’s not like my parents took me to the movies — I wound up doing the bulk of my work on television, and I think it has something to do with the fact that the TV set was the thing that we coalesced around as a family. But they were always very supportive, and I joke around about the fact that they would come see me do something like a Shakespearean play and go, “That was nice. Why does everybody talk like that?”Did you know as a kid that you wanted to do this?I knew pretty early. I went to George Gershwin Junior High School in Brooklyn, and if you did good in school, you could be part of the musical — “Damn Yankees” and “Carousel” and all of that stuff. After that, I went to Thomas Jefferson High School in a not-great neighborhood in East New York, and there happened to be this English literature teacher who I’m still very friendly with and he took us to plays. Seeing Raul Julia and James Earl Jones for the first time, they probably were the most inspirational to me, because I saw the parallels there: “That guy is from the same place Mom is from, and he speaks with an accent!”And then there was another professor who was working at Brooklyn College, Bernie Barrow, who encouraged me. He said, “You’re showing this interest in the classics and you probably could go to L.A. and be the crook of the week on ‘Hill Street Blues,’ but you should think about graduate school and adding some tools to the toolbox.” So he helped me navigate applying to all these schools and I wound up at Cornell, which had a very small, almost monastic M.F.A. program. But for me, that was joy. That was the right thing to do, even when it was 6 a.m. and I was at the ballet bar, wondering if I made the right decision.If you were singing and dancing at Cornell and aspiring to be in those musicals in junior high, then this is something of a full-circle moment for you.Absolutely. This is the whole thing about the business, you’ve got to keep your instrument in tune. When I took all those dance and voice classes, it’s not like it went to the wayside, but I wasn’t using that as much here in L.A. because I was doing television. But I should have still been doing it. I kick myself about that now.See, that’s just more proof that they should have let you sing on “Cop Rock.”Exactly! More