Archive for November 2008
St. Jude's Modern British
from Kimberly
I was checking out one of my favorite blogs called yarnstorm and the author, Jane Brocket, was asked to compile her top 10 most beautiful blogs. They are very interesting to check out. I recommend it. My favorite was this blog from the St Jude's Modern British gallery. Here are some of the works from it. My favorite is Rob Ryan's papercut work (above image). He does these from cutting paper and then some are displayed in their original form or made into silk screen prints. Most use words as part of the design. I also liked Robert Tavener's work like this one, "Horseguards Friary Court". 
and John Bryce's woodcuts of London. 
Published on November 26, 2008 at 12:03 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments
Painter of Light (Trademark) Porn
from Joffre
Ellen Kuras of Coffee & Cigarettes thinks Thomas Kinkades guidelines for movie-making sound like rules for making '60s porn. The article is Thomas Kincade's 16 Guidelines for Making Stuff Suck.
Published on November 18, 2008 at 6:06 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments
Podcast Hold
from Joffre
Our only person with the know-how to put the finishing touches to our next podcast is down with that cold that's been going around. You know, the one you're coming down with right now. So our podcast's not up. Hopefully very soon!
Published on November 15, 2008 at 10:59 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments
A Really Bad Review . . . Almost
From Stephanie Young
I am not a fan of gushing. Actually, I despise it. I like to see something added to this great conversation that is theatre, and I prefer a thoughtful, encouraging tone to the cheerleader-esque “You must see this, it's, like, so totally awesome, and I may or may not have been pad to say so” blather. But those sentiments have been thoroughly pummeled out of me by Warehouse Theatre's latest show: John Cariani's “Almost, Maine.” The happy fact of the matter is, I don't think I can add anything to this masterful production. So without reserve, with great excitement, and with only a slight hint of Valley Girl inflection, I will here say, You've Got to See This Show! It deserves the highest praise I know to give to a piece of theatre—It is alive.
Cariani's dialogue is crackling—funnier than anything I've heard in a long time, and intelligent, to boot. I believed every word the four (only four!) actors spoke on that stage—which is a stunning accomplishment given the bizarre situations in which these characters find themselves. Even the travel brochures insist that they are a different breed of people. People who let strangers camp out on their lawns. People who have a bad habit of misspelling their tattoos, and who may or may not be able to fix all nineteen pieces of your broken heart.
They're all from northern Maine, see. Way-way-way northern Maine. So North, and so cold, and so tiny that they aren't even a township. They're almost organized enough, they're almost united enough to make up a real town, but not quite. And “almost” turns out to be the metaphor for all of these people—for their sundry attempts at connecting with each other. For their givings and misgivings, fallings in and out of love.
You see, they aren't really another breed. They are you and me and our loves and almost-loves. Which doesn't mean they are syrupy--they go through pain like you and I. They just go through it in a most unusual manner (an ironing board? A big red sack full of love?), and it's almost always funny. Almost always.
That sort of dexterity—the funny and painful and poignant all rolled up together in something so real you swear you've seen it all before . . . in yourself—that sort of acting gymnastics deserves a standing ovation. I can't single out any one actor, or even any of the nineteen characters they portrayed. Debra Capps, Adam Critchlow, Jason M. Shipman, and Anne Tromsness—they made each character a living, breathing person, and they all have my deepest respect for the work they did last night.
Other respectable persons include the designers, David Hartman (scene), Tony Penna (Lights), Kevin Frazier (Sound), Jayce Tromsness (Costumes). The opening ahhhh, the perfect, perky music, the brilliant lights, the furious costume changes off (and on!) the stage—the show was seamless and beautiful. Ah, me. Forgive the gushing, but Director Chip Egan really does deserve something for pulling all of this together—maybe, he could direct a few more shows in Greenville?
I'd pay to see them. In fact, I, the obnoxious person who gave you this high school pep rally in which you learned next to nothing, I am currently finagling my almost non-existent finances into letting me see “Almost, Maine” again—something I've done only one other time in my eight years of theatre. In today's economy, that's no small investment—not even almost. But it will be worth every penny.
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John Cariani's “Almost, Maine,” directed by Chip Egan.
Presented by The Warehouse Theatre, 37 Augusta St., Greenville (864) 235-6948. Through November 29. Tickets $25. Students $15.
Published on November 15, 2008 at 10:57 pm | Permalink | 1 Comments
Some Stories within a Story within a Story
(And why you should see all of them)
from Stephanie Young
Rob Handel's "Millicent Scowlworthy" is about many things--grief, memory, healing. But more than anything else, it's a play about about plays. About how theatre can help us navigate grief, preserve our vital memories, and grow toward wholeness. It's worth seeing to be confronted by the role stories (and sympathetic audiences) play in our perception of reality. But I'll argue that there's another reason for catching one of these last few performances: director Brian Haimbach is using this play to shape the actors of our future.
Millicent Scowlworthy is everything her name suggests: boorish, melancholy, and shocking. But you can't blame her, given her violent past (and Hannah Baker's sympathetic portrayal of her). She's a refugee, recently adopted into a powerful socialite family, and the combination proves deadly. Enter media-frenzy and a town more concerned with blame than with true healing, and you get a group of brooding, anguished teenagers, among them Kelly and Porter--explosive performances (and I'm not just being cute) by Jenna Grabijas and Brandon Brown. JonBenet Ramsey, meet Columbine.
Thankfully, Handel knows how to exercise restraint--giving us just enough detail for our imaginations to handle the rest. And even more thankfully, he's put the whole thing into a thought-provoking frame tale. The real story is about a group of students who believe it is important to remember these events. They meet every year, draw names, and don costumes. They re-create the lives that were taken, the lives that did the taking, and the Greek tragedies in which they all happened to be acting at the time. (Ms. Grabijas plays a strong Kelly, but her Iphigeneia and Electra are two of the highlights of this production.)
Unfortunately, the adults in town want to move on, to command the timetables of grief and healing in the same way you'd order a dog's obedience. They chase the young actors from performance location to performance location, until the kids are huddled in a basement, holding onto each other, and reliving the brutal end.
Heavy? Yes. Dark? You bet. But you might be surprised to find yourself leaving the theatre hopeful. The reason? Well, one of them is Kalesh Nicholson, whose sullen waiter and pitch-perfect director Botho Spire promise great things for her (and our) theatrical future. Ms. Nicholson, like all the actors in this production, is a student at the Greenville Tech Theatre Program, but you'd never know it. If her electric performance is any indication of what's in our future, we do have reason to rejoice. Another reason: we need to tell these stories of grief. We need to listen. When we do, like we did at Centre Stage last night, we come a little closer to each other, and to healing. But that, I suppose, is the whole point of the play.
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Rob Handel's "Millicent Scowlworthy," directed by Brian Haimbach. Presented by Grenville Tech Theatre Program at Centre Stage, 501 River Street, inside the Smith-Barney building, downtown Greenville. Tickets available at the door. $10
Published on November 14, 2008 at 3:17 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments
Review of Furr Next Podcast
from Joffre
Our next podcast will feature Andy Martin's review of Blitzen Trapper's latest, Furr. I'm really looking forward to discussing the album with him.
Here's a taste of Blitzen Trapper live.
Published on November 10, 2008 at 3:53 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments
How to Get the Revenant Culture Halloween Playlist.
For those of you who listened to the Revenant Culturecast, Episode 15 (Halloween extravaganza!) and wanted to get our playlist in iTunes, here are some detailed instructions.
(I hoped it would be easier to get than this, but here you go...)
1) In iTunes, go to the iTunes store.
2) In the top left corner of the screen, where the iTunes STORE categories are listed, click on music.
3) On the next screen, on the left hand side of the store, look for a box titled "More in Music." Click on "iMix."
4) Search for "revenant culture," and you'll see our playlist as one of the only ones that comes up.
If you download it, thanks for trusting our recommendations! Don't
forget to rate the playlist and leave us a comment. Peace, and be well!
Published on November 1, 2008 at 11:46 pm | Permalink | 0 Comments
