Edward Albee RIP

So many, many deaths of people I admired in 2016.  I've kind of stopped tracking them here, though I was quite sad to hear that the jazz vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson died back in August, as well as Rudy Van Gelder, who was so central to the Blue Note label.  At least I had the opportunity to see Hutcherson twice -- at the Iridium in New York and in Chicago on the SF Jazz Collective tour.

Like these deaths, Albee's death was not totally unexpected, and he had a long life (88) and career.  Here is the standard AP obit, and here is an extended obit in the NY Times.  While I would probably have considered Tony Kushner the preeminent living U.S. playwright, Albee was certainly very close.

Albee and Harold Pinter (who passed away in 2008) wrote some of the most challenging works of the 20th Century.*  Sometimes it didn't work -- I hated The Goat or Who is Sylvia, and I thought The Play About the Baby was a weak retread of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?  (Actually, I must admit that I rejected The Play About the Baby without watching it.  The discussion about it made it so clear that it took one of the most intriguing aspects of Virginia Woolf (that is revealed only at the end of the long, terrible evening of "games") and put it front and center as a fairly shallow exercise.  I realize this isn't entirely fair, and if the "baby play" comes to Toronto and someone like Coal Mine or Storefront does it, I'll probably go.)

While Albee certainly was a true intellectual working in the field, and I think his desire for intellectually challenging plays was admirable, he may also have gone too far in privileging the playwright over the audience.  Here is Albee telling off critics and indirectly his audience:

“It is not enough for a critic to tell his audience how well a play succeeds in its intention,” he said; “he must also judge that intention by the absolute standards of the theater as an art form.” He added that when critics perform only the first function, they leave the impression that less ambitious plays are better ones because they come closer to achieving their ambitions.

“Well, perhaps they are better plays to their audience,” he said, “but they are not better plays for their audience. And since the critic fashions the audience taste, whether he intends to or not, he succeeds each season in merely lowering it.” (from the NY times obit)

It's hard to get more elitist than that, saying that the playwright writes plays that are good for the audience and that their enjoyment (or even understanding of what is going on) is irrelevant. This is an example of why I do not always defer to the playwright; I do think the audience matters and believing that playwright always knows best is foolish.

Also, Albee may not been the best judge of his own work.  All the critics that I respect feel that his reworking of The Zoo Story (into At Home at the Zoo where the back story of Peter is explored) weakens The Zoo Story.  Again the feeling is not unanimous, but it is among the critics I follow, so I don't plan on seeing the two act version.

I won't go into all the reasons why I didn't like The Goat of Who is Sylvia, but basically it wasn't the idea of bestiality or the other "immoral" behavior, but that I found the characters' actions implausible at every level.  For those of you who are interested, there will be a college production (Victoria College Drama Society) from Oct 26-28.

I think Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is probably Albee's best play.  I saw a scorching version done at Storefront Theatre, which really was what cemented them into my mind as a company to watch.  For those that didn't see it then and do want to see the play, Trinity College Dramatic Society is doing the play in early January.

Those are the only upcoming local Toronto productions of Albee's plays, though perhaps in the next season or two, we'll see more.

In terms of which Albee plays I would still like to see.  I'd probably see Three Tall Women again, even though I saw this in Chicago in 2011.  I'm reasonably interested in seeing A Delicate Balance (curiously the rights are held by Samuel French, whereas almost everything else goes through DPS).  I'd see the one-act play Counting the Ways (particularly if it is paired with Listening).  Seascape sounds sort of intriguing, though a little unusual.  I'll try to get it out of the library.  I'd probably go see The Marriage Play, though I wouldn't travel anywhere to see it, and if it comes to Toronto (and isn't absurdly expensive) I'd probably see The Play About the Baby this time around (I've skipped it at least once).

* In general, audiences don't react all that well to uncertainty about what actually is happening during the course of the play, since they value closure quite a bit (whether they have actually been "taught" to value closure by critics seems a moot point to me).  I haven't seen anything by him (yet), but a glance over Christopher Shinn's work suggests he might be working in this challenging territory.  I'll see if any of his plays are at the library, and also add a few of his plays to my list of plays I'm trying to see in person.

Limited run - The Plough and the Stars

It has been a long, long day.  Actually, it has been a long week, since I worked pretty much through the night Monday night, and then I've been dealing with a number of academic things for the past 24 hours or so.  I had to complete several TRB reviews and upload my final TAC presentation all on the 15th.  I managed to cross the last obligation off my list at 11:58 pm.  I debated between taking the subway home and biking.  I ultimately biked home, but found that the cabbies were far more out of control than normal, and in fact one barely stopped for me at a stop sign, only about 4 blocks from home.  That would have been terribly ironic after I managed to get out of the downtown safely.

Because it is so late, I will just encourage interested parties to go see The Plough and the Stars this weekend at Canadian Stage.  It is actually being performed by Abbey Theatre Company for one week only.  There are still some tickets left for Friday and Sunday.

I had been kind of wavering, but I'm glad I went (even though I had to bring my laptop and work on a Powerpoint presentation during the intermission!).  It was a really strong production, and Abbey Theatre Company almost never comes to Toronto (this is first time in 26 years).  I probably caught 80-90% of the dialogue, since the accents were thick at times and I was sitting towards the back of the theatre, but the action was always clear.  While it was still clearly about the events of 1916, there were several changes that essentially made 2016 and 1916 blur together, particularly when during Act II, the barman kept putting on the telly, so that people could watch all the nationalist speeches being made.  I think of all the scenes, Act II was my favorite, since it had this Fluther character at his most Falstaffian (and I liked the barman character as well, though it was a bit role).  My third favorite character was this pint-sized Marxist provocateur, but many of the roles were stand-out roles.

Many people consider The Plough and the Stars to be O'Casey's masterpiece, and this was certainly an electrifying production.  It felt to me that he was drawing very heavily on the example of Shakespeare's Henry IV (particularly Fluther as a kind of Falstaff) but there were two critical changes.  First, there really were no kings and dukes involved; this was very much a play about the lower classes of Dublin.  (The play was set first in a tenement building and later right outside, and Act II took place in a nearby pub.)  Second, he really drives home the point that there is no honor and certainly no glory in war, which may be in the subtext of Shakespeare's history plays, but Henry IV Part 2 and Henry V do glorify war on the surface.  These reviews (here and here) give a fairly good idea of The Plough and the Stars.

It was quite strange overhearing some youngster seemingly saying that he just didn't see the point of putting on the play (or perhaps he was defending the modern production, though certainly my impression was that he thought this play was too ancient to resonate today).  All I can say is that there are still so many civil wars being fought on narrow nationalist grounds, and this play really does speak to the need to strip the glory away from these conflicts so that perhaps fewer people would continue to carry on these wars.  But even if it wasn't actually so relevant, I would still want companies to put on the classics.  His desire for the new (and shortsighted dismissal of the past) just reminded me of the same people that stuck up for the ill-conceived inversions of The Glass Menagerie because it felt more "modern" to them.  (Not that I always automatically side with the traditionalists: I did think John Gabriel Borkman at Stratford was a play that didn't make much sense for today's audience.)  I'm too tired to get much deeper into these debates or to say much more about the production, aside from repeating that it was a very strong production and I'm glad I was able to see it.  I think it says something about how immersive it was that I didn't find myself nodding off even for a moment (often a problem for me during concerts), despite being quite sleep deprived.

Now that I have gotten a bit of rest, I've had a bit more time to think about the production.  It definitely is a postmodern production in terms of the set and the costumes, but the core of the play is very much intact.  I generally think of it as the modern era sort of imposing itself on the 1916 uprising (sort of a palimpsest across the generations).  But it wasn't as if Nora now thinks that the rebellion is a good idea -- that would be an unforgivable revision of the play.  Basically, that is how I would distinguish this production (respectful to the core ideas of the play but updated in some ways) versus The Glass Menagerie, where the updating of the play really undermines what Williams was going for; though I suppose it is a fine line and on the surface they both look like the director going a bit too far.  I may also be just a bit more forgiving, since Abbey Theatre puts on The Plough and the Stars every few years, and the 2012 production was apparently quite traditional.

While the local reviewers have been quite positive, it is possible to find reviewers (and certainly the general public!) who wish that it had been done as a period piece and that any attempt to link the Easter Rebellion of 1916 to more modern uprisings is a major mistake.  This reviewer had mixed feelings, but ultimately gave it a fairly positive review.  Interestingly, he really didn't like one of the more comic moments, when the pint-sized Marxist is looting a full-size drier and is carrying it on his back.  I thought this was great.  I am now curious what the text says at this point, so I have put in a request to get it from the library.  Here's the Guardian review and one from the Irish Times (where the director says he never saw the play before!).  I am also particularly interested in seeing if O'Casey actually has all the speeches in the text (probably so).  In most productions you hear them through the pub window, but here they are all on the pub television.

I can understand why people felt O'Casey was making fun of the nationalists, but I think it is more about the fact that their leaders were quite appalling, saying things like blood had to be sacrificed and that the Irish should welcome martyrdom.  Any leader who deliberately sets out to spill blood is a meglomaniac who should be shunned.  I am not really up on my Irish revolutionary leaders, but it does appear that Parnell never glorified war the way the leaders of the 1916 Rebellion apparently did. 

Unit 102 - Old Times

I kind of snuck into this at the last minute (without reservations even).  I hadn't even realized that Unit 102 was doing a play until I saw the listing in Now.  There is a bit of an interesting story here in that their main space was sold out from under them and they had to scramble to find a new place at 101 Niagara.  (It is fairly difficult to find, especially as several of the Niagara street signs themselves have been torn down.  Once inside, it is a veritable warren of small studio spaces and artist spaces.  I know of several places like this hanging on in Chicago's Wicker Park, but it is kind of neat running across this in contemporary Toronto.  It does kind of bring me back to my previous stint here in the early 90s.)

The space is really more a rehearsal space than a full blown theatre, which means that there isn't much room for the audience.  There are three rows of chairs with maximum seating around 30.  This makes for very intimate theatre.  (Also, it may mean there will be a run on tickets towards the end of the run, though Tuesdays and Wednesdays have good availability.)  I personally would recommend sitting in the front row, but the second row is fine.  It is true that they smoke a lot of herbal cigarettes throughout the show.  If this bothers you a little, then try the second row.  If it is going to bother you a lot, then you probably should pass.

This is a complex and frankly baffling play.  It's actually my second time through (I saw it in 2011 in Chicago), and I still wouldn't say I really understand what happened.  The different versions of reality are massively in conflict with each other.  To some degree, it is like Albee's The Play About the Baby, though if the final "story" that is told is "true" (which is my usual take on the play), then why would this dialogue be performed in this way?  Why would the events be discussed the way they are?  Alternatively, if it is all in one person's head (another intriguing possibility that I hadn't considered, which is raised here in Slotkin's review), then there are an awful lot of mental gymnastics to explain away.

I think Slotkin's review and this review are fair and balanced.  The accents do slip a bit.  Deeley is a bit too drunk and too shouty.  The Chicago production was a bit more restrained and it worked better in some ways, though the mysterious Anna may be a bit better here (maybe just because I was so close that I could really see all her reactions).  What is quite interesting (to me) is that I think the Chicago crew was slightly older than this set of actors, and that feels more right to me.  (Pinter does say that they are all pushing 40,* though I would guess most of these actors are only pushing 30.)  Nonetheless, it is a bit strange to me that Pinter says most of the past events were 15 years ago, whereas I tend to think of deep nostalgia surrounding events of 20 or even 25 years ago.  Another thing that seems a bit odd is that Pinter certainly suggests that the past (of 15 years ago) was London in the Swinging 60s, but Deeley and Anna spend a lot of time singing songs from the 1930s and 1940s (particularly Gershwin tunes).  While there was a fair bit of carry over (Frank Sinatra and even Bing Crosby would have kept these songs in circulation), it is still a bit strange that they would be singing songs of their parents' generation.  This led me to search up the movie (Odd Man Out) that is referenced throughout, and it was released in 1947!  So that basically puts them living in the early 1960s and remembering the 1940s, though the stage directions request that the set use "modern furniture," which only further undermines any essential truth or grounding of the play.

I would encourage people to see this play, particularly if they are interested in power/persuasion, shifting alliances inherent in small groups, in the way memory works (and how two or more people with a shared past may not remember things at all in the same way) and for plays that challenge the viewer.  I would not recommend the play to theatre goers who prefer neat and tidy endings.**  I'm certainly glad that Unit 102 is taking on challenging plays, and I'll see what they are up to next wherever they land.

* Oh, interesting.  The line is that Anna is "about 40," not pushing 40, which I'm quite sure I heard. (Or am I?  Memory is such a treacherous thing...)  The text of the play then says these events were 20 years ago, but I'm quite sure they changed it to 15.  In this case, I am pretty confident, since it was a bit jarring and I noted it down as soon as I got home.  I would agree with Pinter that 20 year old memories are in some ways more disturbing that 15 year memories, since anything that you still recall from 20 years ago is both part of your core and yet can be maddening elusive.  Some of the work I am doing (when I write at all) is about 20 or even 25 years ago, and I have to rely on newspaper articles and research to check if my memory is accurate.  Fortunately, I kept fairly detailed journals from that time, and I definitely don't remember many of the events that I recorded.  That in itself would be an interesting idea to explore (not that Beckett didn't basically cover this in a way already in Krapp's Last Tape).

** One such person is the Now reviewer.  I'm not even going to dignify this ridiculous review with a link.

While I will write about it in a separate post, Edward Albee has just passed away.  I find he and Pinter share an affinity for writing challenging plays where power between the characters shifts in unpredictable ways and the audience really never knows quite what happened.  This sort of play only appeals to a limited audience, and thus we probably will not see many playwrights like Pinter and Albee again. 

The Closing of the North (Harris at AGO)

This is the last week to catch the Lawren Harris exhibit at the AGO.  It officially closes the 18th.  It could be crazy this weekend, or it may not be too bad, since everyone that wanted to see it has seen the exhibit.  In addition, there may be just a bit less pressure, since most of the paintings (in the core exhibit curated by Steve Martin and the additional early career paintings that the AGO added) are found in local museums -- mostly the AGO, but also the McMichael and the Art Gallery of Hamilton.

I don't think I will go back -- I've swung through 4 times or so, plus seeing the show in Boston! And while I do appreciate the austere nature of these paintings, I actually prefer the urban paintings he did earlier.

Anyway, I've already written a bit about the earlier paintings, so I thought I would close out by discussing which of the arctic paintings I liked the best.  I should begin with a bit of a mea culpa.  It turns out that Grounded Icebergs was added to the Steve Martin show.  I honestly can't tell if it wasn't there the first time around (and they added it after a bit of pressure) or (much more likely) I didn't recognize it in the new context (sometimes changing the wall color behind a painting can make a big difference).  Well, I'm glad more people got to see it and maybe they'll rotate it in with the Canadian paintings on the 2nd floor (the ones that are not part of the Thomson Collection).

I thought these three in particular stood out -- one from each of the nearby galleries.

Lawren Harris, Icebergs, Davis Straight, 1930 (@ McMichael)

Lawren Harris, Lake Superior, ca. 1923 (@ AGO)

 

Lawren Harris, Ice House, Coldwell, Lake Superior, 1923 (@ Art Gallery of Hamilton)

Perhaps it is fitting that for another two weeks, there are a handful of Harris paintings from the Vancouver Art Gallery (which I've probably seen at one point or other) at the Art Gallery of Hamilton as part of the Embracing Canada exhibit.  Ideally I would go out there, but the timing just isn't great, especially as I am watching the kids while my wife is volunteering at TIFF.  I don't think I can make it work for a variety of reasons.

No Menagerie

I mentioned in the previous post how an extremely detailed and negative review of The Glass Menagerie has pushed me entirely into the camp of not wanting to see this production.  There is an interesting back and forth in the comments about how open one should be to experiments and rethinking of the classics, and the response that this only works when the core of a play has been left intact.  The Globe and Mail reviewer, who I also generally trust, was quite lukewarm.  The new Star reviewer, who I don't trust, was more positive. It got a very positive blurb in Mooney's, but I only use Mooney's to tell me what is playing, since I hardly ever agree with their reviewers.

It's not that I have completely ignored experimental theatre over my long "career" of attending plays, but I really am a traditionalist when it comes to the classics.  I would much prefer someone call something The Glass Manger (inspired by Williams) rather than calling it The Glass Menagerie and inverting the play.  It is really the director who is using the Williams name as a brand to entice people to come (and so far it has sold out most nights) but then being extremely disrespectful to the main concepts of the play.  (Maybe I would feel differently if these plays were put on every year or so, but it can be 5 or even 10 years between productions of plays by someone other than Shakespeare, so most people are coming at it for the first time.  Is it really fair for that (fairly large) slice of the audience to radically reinterpret the play without at least slapping on a warning label?)

Here we have a woman who is not really a damaged flower (or Southern belle-in-waiting).  She creates all the glass figurines rather than collecting them as a way of avoiding dealing with the world.  She doesn't limp, and she pleasures herself on stage.  What does she need a gentleman caller for anyway?  Slotkin also points out that no matter how louche or self-centered a young man is, the idea that he would show up at a friend's house to eat a family dinner and wouldn't at least button up his shirt is pretty unthinkable.  Unless Millennials are even more self-centered and lacking in social graces than I have been led to believe...  Actually it sounds as if this production of the play is set in the  early 1990s (if it even is set in a specific time), and that would make the younger characters Gen Xers, and we knew to dress up a bit for dinner.  Finally, it really seems as if Slotkin is onto something when she says these characters don't seem to love each other at all, and Tom is pointlessly cruel in several scenes, which again is a gutting of the play.

I was going to write a more extended piece here, but I will just sum up that when it comes to choosing between staying true to the original concept as outlined by the playwright and a brash concept by an up-and-coming director, I will virtually always side with the playwright.  I find most directors that impose a radical new concept onto a play are basically egomaniacs, who don't have a fraction of the creative spirit of the playwright.  I basically find my sympathies go to the playwright, the audience, the actors and the director, in that order.

End of summer blues

I must say today did not go at all as planned.  I knew it was going to rain in the evening, but I have been feeling kind of sluggish and not exercising enough.  Thus, I rode my bike to work, expecting to leave it in the storage area until Friday.  Then I would take the Queen streetcar out to the Theatre Centre to watch The Glass Menagerie.

It was a fairly hectic day, trying to get some presentations ready and responding to a document that came across the desk towards the end of the day.  I looked up the ticket situation, and the play was sold out again!  Seriously, who goes to see a 2.5 hour play on a Wednesday?  There were a few tickets left for Thurs. and then reasonable availability Friday.  However, the timing is generally not that convenient for me, so I delved a bit deeper into the reviews to see if I really wanted to make the effort to go.  I think I'll save this for another post, but one of the reviews was both highly critical and very specific, and I am generally on the same wave length as this reviewer, so I can tell I would also be unsympathetic to the director's choices.  So not only did I not go see the play tonight, but I've decided to skip it entirely.

It looked like the rain would hold off for another 30 minutes or so, so I jumped on my bike and pedaled madly for home.  I got to Logan and was caught in a sudden downpour.  I think I only needed another 7-8 minutes.  Oh well.  It is probably going to rain on and off most of today and tomorrow.

The kids are back in school, which is great.  They seem to be adjusting reasonably well, and they both had a bit of homework on the second day.

It's probably worth taking stock of the summer.  I managed to get the deck done, which was a bigger undertaking than I imagined.  I ended up giving up the equivalent of 3 or even 4 weekends to this project.  I hope I feel it is worth it in the end.  I only enjoyed the deck sporadically, though I was sitting outside reading and heard a humming.  I looked up and saw a hummingbird right overhead, poking about in the large, flowery bush that hangs over the deck.  Very cool.  I think that is the first time I've seen one live.  The humming sound reminds me that they are now saying this will be one of the biggest cicada invasions in years, so perhaps I'll actually see some.  I didn't see any last summer/fall.

I had our stairs fixed inside, and I may have gotten the raccoons to move to another yard, though it is a bit early to tell.  I read a fair bit, though in some cases I mostly felt that I had persevered and I hadn't necessarily enjoyed the reading.  That's certainly the case with James Clifford's Routes and Philip Roth's Sabbath's Theater, neither of which I would recommend.  While there were some genuine moments of pleasure reading Darwin's The Voyage of the Beagle, in general it was a fairly long slog.  I was pleased that I managed to read Hawking's A Brief History of Time, which is actually at the top of the list of books started but not completed.  Probably the most compelling read was Hill's The Book of Negroes, though if I go all the way back to mid June, then I also liked Munro's The Moons of Jupiter quite a bit.  I did not listen to Finnegan's Wake (and sort of follow along), as I thought I might do, but perhaps that will be an undertaking for the fall.

I saw quite a lot of good theatre, and I got in my annual trip to Stratford.  I saw a few concerts I enjoyed.  I did not, however, get particularly far with my own writing, though I guess I am about 1/3 of the way complete with "Final Exam."

I generally was able to ride my bike to work 3 days a week, never getting much above or below that.  I did not integrate swimming into the mix, though now that I have checked out the Regent Park Aquatic Centre, I'll try to go at least for a few months, before it gets too cold.  I did not do much work in the yard, and the plants have more or less all died, except the ferns in the back.  It was not a pleasant summer for plant life...

Perhaps the single most rewarding activity was the canoeing on the Humber, just since I was taking a risk that the kids would enjoy it, never having done it before.  Maybe next summer we will do just a bit of camping, though probably in a cabin, so I'll investigate that, though I'd like to stay fairly close to the city, since long drives are generally not a good idea.  It wasn't a bad summer (aside from the extreme heat), though it wasn't a particularly productive one either.  I guess that is kind of par for the course.

Tearing up the basement

I have to say that yesterday was a very trying and tiring day, and I come out of it only half fulfilled.  I needed to track down two receipts from the moving company, and I found one (towards the very end of the evening).  I am kind of wracking my brains where the other one could be, since it should have been quite close to the other one.  Before I completely give up, there is one box that I can flip through a second time.

It wasn't a total loss.  I found a few more papers affirming my BC residence.  I threw out a lot of old papers (nowhere near enough, however).  I managed to consolidate 6 boxes down into 3, so it looks somewhat neater downstairs.

I think the next time I go through the boxes, I'll throw out everything related to my field work at the Chicago Youth Hostel.  I am never, ever going to write anything related to that experience.  I really ought to throw out all the newspaper clippings related to Chicago transportation, since the important ones were already cited in my dissertation, and I am quite unlikely to publish more in that area either.  Maybe I can give myself another 6 months and then really start to purge.

I also turned up a handful of CDs, though there are still a few cases with missing CDs.  These are the trickiest, since it is likely the missing CDs are mixed in with a bunch of data CDs (and I must have literally over a thousand downstairs!).  And I found all the parts to my son's bike lock, which reminds me that I was very remiss in not having him practice biking this summer.  The problem is we are in a neighborhood surrounded by busy streets, which are not too bad for walking but biking is a real challenge, and I don't feel comfortable yet having him navigate so much traffic.  Next summer perhaps...

Probably the single best find was a small orange notebook which contains the science fiction story "No More Robinsons," as well as just a few pages of "Final Exam."  I had it in the back of my mind that I had started this, but couldn't track it down, so I actually started from scratch while on vacation a couple of weeks ago.  Now I can compare the two and see which was the better start.

There are a few things that I still can't find, in some cases I have been looking since we moved.  The most baffling is that I can't find the hair clippers, which is in a fairly large black case.  I also can't find the cassette player that allows me to convert cassettes to mp3s, though I admit I wasn't really looking for it until the very end of the day.  I have a small bag of refrigerator magnets I hope to track down.  I'm also missing a couple of USB flash drives, but those went missing recently, so they can't be buried downstairs, just somewhere on the main floor or at work.*

Obviously, this isn't the last time I will have to spend a day down in the basement sorting through papers and other random junk.

* One of the USB drives turned up, and hopefully the other one will soon.