The Singing Sphere was entertaining, intellectually engaging, imaginative, provocative, and introspective. It seemed, after all, that one might evolve to a better state. We enjoyed a sojourn of hope and infinite beauty through this collective stream of eloquent consciousness and literary effusion.
Schwartz is a raconteur extraordinaire. From the onset, her repartee was confident and, at times, adapted to prompt audience interaction. One could hardly resist her gentle, enchanting coaxing. She exuded charisma as she commanded the stage with energy and charm. Schwartz’s timing was impeccably utilized for dramatic effect, while her suspense and pacing were expertly managed. Her voice conveyed various emotions and characters, using accents and expressing personalities with aplomb—bringing their stories to life. With her robust stage presence, Schwartz utilized body language, dance, and gestures to provide depth and nuance to her performance. She guided her audience through humor, sadness, fear, intrigue, and elation.
Royo delivered a resounding performance, transforming into over 12 characters experiencing the stages of alcoholism and its effects on each character’s interaction with himself and others. At times, it’s hard to tell who Man is, as his toxic masculinity dominates and elevates with the abuse of alcohol.
The Conductor celebrated emotionally charged discourse governed by mutual respect, intellectual rigor, and passionate argument without the hostility, recriminations, and violence sometimes seen in today’s national debate. As with any well-crafted, intellectually fueled discourse, Reed’s work evoked exciting questions and ideas for viewers desiring continued debate.
The cast, setting, dramatization, and well-crafted script evoked yearning, hope, sadness, heartache, and disillusionment. Sharp’s adaptation explored family, love, and social status themes as Catherine navigated whether to follow her heart or obey her father’s wishes. The audience was inexorably drawn into a story conveyed through a 90-minute production in a seemingly virtual moment.
From the onset, Cold Feet was saucy with an eccentric style of humor, bizarre characters like Shelly the orangutan with her goofy grunts and screams, and off-the-wall skits. Laughs were guaranteed through the sequences of impudence, knee-slapping silliness, physical comedy, parody, surrealism, and wordplay.
The well-crafted descriptive language in Han! was fundamental to creating vivid and evocative imagery that transported viewers to other times, places, and states of mind. Through rich sensory details, figurative language, dance, movement, and expression, Hyun Ju Baek created a virtual, tangible, and intangible world, drawing the audience into her vision while inviting them to experience it uniquely.
Kissing the Floor was a well-conceived, powerful dramatization akin to the legendary “sins of the father,” ably expressing the overpowering tragedies of Antigone brought to life in the demise of a family during the Great Depression. It is a profound exploration of human nature, grief, and the destructive consequences of–so many things.
This deeply personal family story is an important, unique, and vital account of survival and hopes seen through the eyes of a child ably characterized by gifted actor and raconteur Ingrid Garner.
Who Murdered Love was a musical comedy extraordinaire At the Theater for the New City. The scene for fun was set as DaDa Love (Elyp Johnson), and the cast sang Mad for Love. This setting projected a mysterious pallor tempered by the comedic references to DaDaism, which had emerged in the early 20th century in reaction to the Great War. We were set to embrace chaos, satire, parody, collage, and streams of consciousness. We were not disappointed.
