After a month off, my fall theatergoing starts this weekend. I'm heading back to the profane, cynical world of playwright David Mamet for Glengarry Glen Ross at the Gamm Theatre.
I've said before that I think Mamet has become less interested in writing a compelling narrative than in bludgeoning the audience with his views on politics or culture or the society in which we live.
My previous two Mamet outings, Speed-the-Plow and Raceon Broadway, were disappointing for that reason. Neither his characters nor the situations they were in seemed wholly believable.
The Pulitzer-winning Glengarry Glen Ross was first produced on Broadway in 1984. I think that was a time, before Speed-the-Plow and Race, when Mamet was still interested in telling a story. His small-time Chicago real estate agents, willing to do anything to make a sale, seemed real.
Bottom line - I don't mind a playwright's view of the world onstage but diatribes bore me. You've got to tell me a story. That's why I'm sitting in the theatre. So one more chance for you, David Mamet.
"The most important thing to me in any of these productions is the transmission of joy of some sort, or some sort of ecstatic experience.
"In temple when I was a kid, the happiest moment was at the end of service - a) because it was the end of the service but b) because everyone stood up and sang and it was ecstatic. We sang, and it was joyous.
"I've always wanted my productions to perform the same function as going to a good service would. Now, I'm not comparing faith in God with the theatre but you know what, sometimes I think it's more powerful."
While it's been a long time since I've attended synagogue regularly, I know what Zaks is talking about - I remember the melodies from childhood. There's something about singing in unison that's joyous and truly gives you a sense of community.
Of course theatre usually isn't participatory in the same way as a religious service - although going up on stage at the Hirschfeld Theatre on Broadway at the end of Hair certainly was an ecstatic experience for me.
I've had other powerful moments at the theatre that I'd compare to a religious experience.
I was in tears hearing "For Good" the first time I saw Wicked, on tour. And Patti LuPone's "Everything's Coming Up Roses" in Gypsy at City Center was rapturous - the only time I've been part of a mid-show standing ovation.
There's something about being at a live performance that you can't replicate watching a movie at the multiplex or sitting at home on the couch with the remote.
Last weekend was my first time back in about six years. I saw some dear friends, attended a bar mitzvah and on Sunday, I had a chance to do some sightseeing.
My first stop was the Newseum, which I'd seen years ago in its old location, in Virginia.
The new six-story building on Pennsylvania Avenue is impressive and there's a great view from the rooftop terrace. Even from a distance and through the summer haze, the sight of the U.S. Capitol never fails to thrill me.
I liked the displays that focused on the history of newsgathering, Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs, press freedom and challenges to the First Amendment.
You get a good overview of how covering the news has changed over the centuries, including the advent of online journalism, blogging and Twitter.
The headline flubs on the walls in the bathroom, taken from the Columbia Journalism Review, were funny - as long as you weren't the one who wrote them.
But I have to admit, the journalism theme park aspects of the museum left me feeling a bit cold.
I decided not to "shake rattle and roll through I-Witness! a 4-D film experience." I did walk through the "G-Men and Journalists: Top News Stories of the FBI's First Century" exhibit and some of it was a little lurid - the Unabomber's cabin and the electric chair that killed the kidnapper of the Lindbergh baby.
Also, I was a little put off by the video of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. They're not journalists, they're comedians. Still, I realize it's 2010. You have to be fun and interactive while you're trying to inform and enlighten. And they do offer their own unique spin on the news.
The Newseum is worth a visit - use your AAA card for a discount on the admission. And it got me thinking - aren't we overdue for a Broadway revival of The Front Page?
My next stop, after a long, hot walk across the Mall, was the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History - hands down my favorite museum in the world.
I've always been a huge American history buff and I love the way the museum tells the story of the United States - not simply through the action of great men and women but through the lives of ordinary Americans and through popular culture.
There are examples of great courage - the Woolworth's lunch counter in Greensboro, N.C., where four black students sat down in February 1960 and refused to leave until they were served. And there are items from our collective cultural memory - Kermit the Frog from The Muppet Show and Dorothy's ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz.
While I've been to the museum numerous times, I have never felt as moved as I did on this visit, when I saw Michelle Obama's inaugural gown.
At the bar mitzvah on Saturday, the rabbi reminded us that it was the 47th anniversary of the March on Washington and he urged us to recall Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech.
Admiring the gown a day later, in a crowd with many African-American museumgoers including elderly men and women, families with young children, was incredibly poignant.
It was a tangible example of how far we've come in realizing Dr. King's dream and in fulfilling the promise of this country - the promise of equality.
Here is the first lady presenting the gown to the Smithsonian in March:
Since it was on the way to the Metro, I stopped at the National Portrait Gallery before heading back to my hotel.
There's an interesting exhibit through Jan. 2 of Norman Rockwell paintings and drawings from the collection of directors Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. I learned how Rockwell had influenced their work as filmmakers, which I hadn't realized.
I love the Portrait Gallery, with its collection of paintings and photographs of famous Americans from all walks of life. But after seven hours of walking around, I was getting a little tired. (In my mind, you haven't done enough sightseeing until you're ready to collapse.)
Hopefully I can return on my next visit - which won't take six years - and I can include a little theatergoing, too.
I was excited earlier this week to read about the 22-track La Cage Aux Folles revival CD from PS Classics, which will be released Sept. 28. It comes with an extensive booklet that includes an essay by La Cage book writer Harvey Fierstein and - most exciting - lyrics!
Until then, my iPod is happily stuck on the original Broadway cast recording, released in 1983. (Yes, I'm playing it over and over again. Oh, that full orchestra.)
"We knew that we were dealing with a subject that had never been attempted, a musical about about two men who loved each other and who had spent most of their lives together running a little cabaret in the south of France. And I loved the story, I loved what it had to say. I thought it was both funny and touching at the same time."
Herman also talked about writing the song that has become the heart of the musical: "I Am What I Am."
It's a powerful, empowering anthem sung by the drag performer Albin, who learns that the son he raised with his partner, Georges, doesn't want him present at a family event.
Albin is, of course, terribly hurt and "I Am What I Am," which ends the first act, is his response. What I appreciate is that it's not a plea for mere tolerance - he sings "I don't want praise, I don't want pity" but a statement about living your life openly, learning to love yourself.
George Hearn, the original Albin on Broadway, won a Tony Award for his portrayal. Herman said, "I am never not moved when I hear George Hearn's interpretation of that song."
Blogging has been kind of anemic lately but I do have some good theatre-related quotes to share:
Vanity Fair has a Q&A with the very funny and sweet Jesse Tyler Ferguson. He talks about his Emmy nomination for Modern Family and the difference between theatre and television:
"The paycheck! (Laughs.) You definitely get paid much more for TV,but it’s also nice to do a show eight times a week and really hone in on what that character is. You can say, “Tomorrow I’ll try it this way or tomorrow I’ll try it that way.” But I love the immediate response you have to make with TV. Once you do it, and once it’s on film, that moment’s gone and you have to move on to the next."
Modern Family was my favorite new TV show of last season and I'd love to see Ferguson onstage someday. Hopefully he'll continue to fit theatre in around the shooting schedule, like he did this summer with Shakespeare in the Park
And one of my favorite musicals,Hair, which closed on Broadway earlier this year, earned a mention in The Wall Street Journal. It was included in a story about the Theatre Development Fund's effort to encourage theatergoing by underrepresented groups in New York City.
The program, called New Audiences for New York, is a great idea. This past Broadway season, it brought more than 30 groups - from churches, schools and senior organizations - to see shows and participate in discussions about them.
But one paragraph made me wince:
Cathy Cahn, who led a group from the Queens-based group Services Now for Adult Persons (SNAP) to "Hair," discussed how seniors valued the chance to see a show and talk about an era they remembered well: "They don't travel into the city, and Broadway is prohibitively expensive. It gave us a different insight. It gave us so much to talk about afterward."
Is that what it's come to: Hair, the perfect show for gulp, senior citizens. I suddenly feel very old.
Looking back, the shows that made the biggest impact were ones with strong personal stories: Brighton Beach Memoirs and Superior Donuts, La Cage aux Folles and Fela!
Laurie Metcalf in Brighton Beach Memoirs, Douglas Hodge in La Cage aux Folles and Jon Michael Hill in Superior Donuts could easily have descended into stereotypes: overprotective Jewish mother, flamboyant drag performer, wisecracking young black male. But they imbued those characters with such depth and humanity that they rose above caricature and captured my heart.
La Cage aux Folles entered my pantheon of favorite musicals. I loved Jerry Herman's songs so much that I got the original Broadway cast recording, which I've been listening to nonstop. The revival CD will be released Sept. 28 and I can't wait to have both of them on my iPod.
I noticed more audience participation on Broadway this season - batting beach balls at La Cage, swiveling my hips during Fela! and missing the waxed fruit that came flying into the audience during Lend Me A Tenor. While the trend could become overdone, so far I've enjoyed it!
I also crossed five theatres off my list, making my first visits to the Gershwin, Longacre, Lunt-Fontanne, Nederlander and Schoenfeld. Only seven more to go before I've seen a show in every Broadway house.
When I'm not at the theatre, I squeeze in as much sightseeing as is humanly possible during my trips to New York City. The heat and humidity didn't make it easy this time but I persevered.
The exhibit tells the story of the competition between British Navy Capt. Robert Scott and Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen in 1910 to be the first to reach the South Pole.
It was a contest of unimaginable hardship, told through artifacts from the two expeditions, photographs and a time line that relates what they were up against every step of the way.
At right is an example of the wooden huts the British built at their camp. Apparently they were especially unprepared for how quickly the temperature plunged from cold to unbearably cold.
Just to give you an idea, last night's temperature at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station in Antarctica was -56 degrees Fahrenheit, with a wind chill that made it feel like -90. That's MINUS 90.
Neither expedition had the high-tech gear that polar researchers use today to make their work safer, no Gore-Tex to keep them warm. (They wore parkas made from reindeer fur and you can touch a sample - it's smooth and silky.)
The exhibit tells the story very well. It explains not just what happened but why. The decisions Scott and Amundsen made about what to bring, when to start out, their backgrounds and personalities, all figured in the outcome.
Here's a segment NPR did about Race to the End of the Earth with the museum's Ross MacPhee and polar explorer John Huston. The exhibit runs through Jan. 2.
This was another interesting story that was unknown to me: how the husband and wife who wrote and illustrated the Curious George books, Margret and H.A. Rey, fled Europe during World War II.
It was so poignant to read the handwritten letter that Hans Rey sent to his British publisher, telling him they made an "adventurous flight from Paris" by bicycle in June 1940, two days before the Nazis marched in.
After traveling by bicycle and train, the Reys reached Lisbon. They sailed from there to South America and finally to the United States, reaching New York City in October 1940. The first Curious George book was published a year later.
The mischievous monkey came from sketches of animals that Hans Rey made when he lived in Brazil in the 1920s and '30s and traveled along the Amazon selling goods. (Apparently, he also complained about the tropical heat, hence the Man with the Yellow Hat.)
The theme of narrowly escaping peril that figures into Curious George's adventures parallels the Reys' escape from the Nazis. (It's amazing how deep children's books are once you learn about the background.)
Curious George Saves the Day moves to the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco from Nov. 14 - March 13, 2011. Here's more about the exhibit from the WBUR radio program On Point.
I don't eat much red meat but I'd been hearing so much about the Shake Shack, which opened in midtown Manhattan, that I really wanted to try it.
Well, the line stretched out the door and down the street. I don't think I've ever stood in a longer line to get a hamburger. All told, it took about 30 minutes.
The verdict: delicious! I was afraid it would be dry, tasteless fast-food fare. Just the opposite.
My Shack Burger with lettuce and tomato was juicy, flavorful, not overly greasy. And the mayonnaise-based Shack Sauce provided the perfect condiment. Accompanied by a refreshing Arnold Palmer, it was a nice light pre-theatre dinner.
Finally, I walked by the fire station at 8th Avenue and 48th Street that houses Engine Co. 54, Ladder 4.
The "Pride of Midtown," which protects Broadway, proudly proclaims that it's "never missed a performance." Judging from the mural, they really get into the role, too.
If you pass by, stop for a moment at the memorial to the 15 men from the station who lost their lives responding to the Sept. 11 attacks. Firefighters enter places where everyone else is trying to flee. Heroes all.
I've said before that I think Mamet has become less interested in writing a compelling narrative than in bludgeoning the audience with his views on politics or culture or the society in which we live.
