Arts
from48 hills
1 day agoDrama Masks: Keeping the monsters of the world at bay - 48 hills
The Bay Area performing arts scene offers bright spots amidst current challenges, highlighting productions that promote inclusivity and cultural awareness.
For the Shakers, Dancing is both a means of revelation and a way to do the work of God in the world, Kimerer LaMothe, a dancer and philosopher of religion, said in an interview. To dance is to build heaven on earth.
"It's bizarre to watch people in this way - even in gay cruising areas you wouldn't stare at other bodies this intensely. Now, whenever I go to a concert, especially at the Berliner Philharmonie with its encircling seating, my gaze hovers over the audience as well as the stage."
Seeing the Alhambra in Granada was an extraordinary experience for me. It was the first time that I understood painting as something other than an object hanging on a wall. I thought that paintings could be in a fixed place, made for that place, made for the light of the place, experienced kinesthetically.
Under the ABS challenge system, a team begins each game with two challenges. If a player gets an umpire's call overturned, their team retains the challenge. In effect, this means a team has unlimited challenges until they get two wrong.
The entire indoor journey, from entry to elevator to the 100th floor, has been reimagined as a multi-sensory, immersive environment. The overhaul comes via a collaboration between experiential design firm Journey, multimedia studio Moment Factory and NYC-based design outfit SOFTlab.
Drawing on childhood memories, folk art, and nature, the London-based illustrator and model maker creates expressive sculptures and puppets that inhabit dreamlike realms. Invoking historical costumes and cartoonish and emotive faces, Johnston's otherworldly cast seems both familiar and strange, as if children's book protagonists have sprung to life or converged with a strange dream.
Jackie Smook has spent years crafting characters and props for "Dilly's World," her whimsical web series and touring theatrical show about a girl confronting big issues with the help of some puppet friends. Her life's work was stolen early Monday when thieves swiped a shipping box containing many of her puppets from outside her Beachwood Canyon apartment. Among the missing are Angus the bassist, Phyllis the mail-delivering puppet, Holstein, who was holding an intricate saxophone prop, and Dumont, who had a television stand.
On a cool winter night in Los Angeles, dozens gathered to protest the Trump administration's attacks on the arts and the recent federal immigration raids in southern California. But these protestors didn't carry signs or chant in front of a government building they recited poems such as Antifa Tea Party and Love in Times of Fascism. They performed anti-fascist improv to a small but lively crowd at The Glendale Room, a library-themed theater, as part of the monthly show Unquiet: A Night of Creative Resistance.
In a full house at the 1,025-seat Toni Rembe Theater, there was an eruption of gasps and shrieks. The grown man to my right reflexively gripped the arm of my seat, sheepishly muttering an apology. In a distant aisle, I spotted one person get up and run out of the theater, their friend trailing closely behind.
Worries, fears, hang-ups, and desires are translated through highly skilled puppetry, as interview scenes cast puppet couples talking about their sex lives. Written by Mark Down of Blind Summit, a cohort of exceptional makers and puppeteers expanding the definition of a puppet, this collaboration with the UK's National Survey of Sexual Attitudes and Lifestyles pulls from real-life conversations to get puppets talking dirty.
When a stranger smiles at you, you smile back. That is why, when Sir Ian McKellen ( The Lord of the Rings, X-Men, Amadeus) walked on the stage in front of me, looked me straight in the eye, and smiled at me, I smiled back. It was the polite thing to do. It was also completely unnecessary, because McKellen was not actually on the stage in front of me. He smiled at me through a pair of special glasses.
Spalding Gray used to perform a show called Interviewing the Audience. The celebrated monologist would invite a stranger he had met in the lobby to join him on stage. Through a sequence of innocuous questions, he would get them to open up about their lives. At one performance, a guest broke the audience's hearts by talking about her daughter's murder. At benefit nights, people living with HIV shared their tales. Other times, the anecdotes would be eccentric or amusing.