Arts & Society

Gary Tischler • November 29, 2011

Twenty five years ago, an unlikely phenomenon and juggernaut burst on the Broadway musical scene. It had a huge set including a giant barricade from which young revolutionaries battled the powers that be in a sort of Occupy Paris spectacle. It was based on a classic novel by Victor Hugo, it had enough death scenes to make Dickens weep, it had a brave and saintly hero named Jean Valjean and a relentless pursuer named Javert and it ran just about forever, unstoppable in spite of some critics who sniffed sentimentality in the air.

It was called “Les Miserables,” a big three-hour-plus musical and spectacle with an operatic score and plot, a Cameron MacIntosh production with music by Claude-Michel Schonberg and a book by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel.

Complete with a logo of a revolutionary waif, the show actually made its American and pre-Broadway debut at the Kennedy Center and it was a huge smash for all concerned, sparking perpetual U.S. and world tours and an amazing Broadway run.

And now it’s back in a 25th-Anniversary production that’s revved up, half an hour shorter, kinetic, energetic and replete with a youngish cast, some of whose members were likely not born when “Les Mis” first exploded on the scene.

For the younger members of the cast who play the parts of the dashing revolutionary leader Enjolras, the tragic Fantine, the student Marius, Cosette and Eponine, “Les Mis” may be a legend, but it will also be as fresh as “Spiderman” in terms of size and impact.

But for Richard Vida, a born-to-be-on-Broadway performer if there ever was one, “Les Mis” is a dream come true—again.

Vida, who started dancing and performing when he was still a kid, always wanted to be on Broadway and in musicals. And he’s got one of the juiciest parts in “Les Miserables,” that of Thenardier, the disreputably opportunistic, shameless landlord, gang leader and party crasher of the show.

“God yes, he’s vile, he’s disgusting, he’s a terrible human being,” Vida said in a phone interview. “That of course is what makes him a wonderful character to play, and I’ve played him before, but he never gets old. He’s a survivor—master of the house indeed, and when he’s on he tends to steal the show. You can’t help but be fascinated by him.”

“Les Miserables” arrives just in time to add a little musical flavor to the current goings-on in Washington and all over the city. Revolution is once again in the air as tent cities full of people with grievances sprout up everywhere, modern-day barricades as rebukes to the contemporary power structures.

“I think it’s all very fresh,” Vida said. “The digitalized backgrounds make for a very electric set, much different than before. It all moves a lot faster.”

“I do think I provide a little bridge for some of the younger people in the cast,” Vida, who is in his forties, said. “They don’t haves the context of the show’s history and why it had such an impact at the time. But we’re all family in this production—everybody helps everybody out. I really am enjoying this. You had that feeling at the curtain call that we had done it once again.”

Vida played Thenardier in the 1990s both as an understudy and in performance for a time on Broadway so he’s thoroughly familiar and steeped in “Les Mis” lore. “I was also very much aware of it when it first came to Broadway, it was a show everyone was talking about,” he said.

“I’m back at the Kennedy Center,” he said. “I was here with a revival of “Forty Second Street,” the one that had Dolores Gray in it.”

“I never wanted to be anything else except to be performing on Broadway, in theater, in musicals,” Vida said. “

Vida is used to the vagaries of the business—“I’ve always been performing, and you do all kinds of things—the perennial ‘Law and Order’ parts, which all actors in New York miss tremendously, voiceovers, shows that succeed, and shows that don’t.”

One of those that didn’t was a fairly recent mounting of “The Best Little Whore House Goes Public,” a sequel to “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.” It didn’t go very public. “It ran for 11 performances,” he said. A very original and interesting show called “The Drowsy Chaperone,” which has not been seen in the Washington area, was very successful. “It was very unique; a kind of musical-within-a-play and it did very well.”

More than likely, the 25th anniversary production of “Les Miserables” did and will do very well. For Vida, he’ll remain the master of the house, the beggar at the feast and what a feast it is.

(You still have through this weekend to try and catch the 25th anniversary production at the Kennedy Center’s Opera House.)
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Jeff Malet • November 28, 2011

FotoWeek DC kicked off with tasty food, drinks and dancing at the Corcoran Gallery of Art on Friday, Nov 4, 2011. FotoWeek DC has earned an international reputation as a premier photography event, and the Corcoran will play host to a variety of FotoWeek activities. The festival (Nov 5-12) comprises hundreds of participating events across D.C. at galleries, museums, embassies, and art spaces as the city comes together in celebration of the power and range of the photographic medium. [gallery ids="100370,110472,110467,110462,110457,110452,110447,110442,110481,110437,110485,110432,110489,110427,110493,110477" nav="thumbs"]

Gary Tischler •

There’s a whole bunch of reasons why “Jersey Boys,” the show biz bio-musical of one of the most successful pop-rock groups ever, is still running strong on the road after opening on Broadway in 2005.

For one thing, as non-stop entertainment, the show just plain delivers, unless you listen to nothing but chamber music and prefer your drama to be flavored by Ionesco. You have to have a heart of stone not to be affected by the tale of the Four Seasons, a pop-rock group fronted by rangy singer Frankie Valli who churned out hit after memorable hit in the 1960s and beyond. Give a listen to “Sherri,” “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” “Oh What a Night,” “Walk like a Man” and two incomparable love songs “My Eyes Adore You” and “Can’t Take My Eyes off You,” among dozens of other hits.

If the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and the Beach Boys were the dominant groups of the period of the mid-sixties through early seventies, Frankie and the boys were right behind them if not right up there with them. And they had their own special flavor, and their own story to tell, and it was a story about the boys from the neighborhood, specifically urban and suburban New Jersey, where the mob and the church held sway as role figures.

New Jersey and the mob, wise guys, priests and lounge singers, are of course strong in the imagination of the American public from the films of Martin Scorcese and Francis Ford Coppolla, to “The Sopranos,” to the current “Boardwalk Empire” and, God help us, to the annals of Snookie and The Situation.

“Jersey Boys” is almost a classic rags-jail-time-to-riches story of the kind Hollywood used to deliver routinely, starting off with the founder and eventual destroyer of the group Tommy DiVito (a sharp turn by John Gardiner), who, between jail stints, stubbornly kept trying to put together a group that would take him and his friends out of the neighborhood.

That didn’t happen until he found the angel-voiced Frankie Castelluccio, soon to become Frankie Valli (not with a y), and then later, Bob Gaudio, a teenaged one-hit wonder composer (“Who Wears Short Shorts?”), who would provide the group with all of its string of hits.

Those hits were not generic rock and roll songs in the strictest sense of the word: they were pop songs created at a very high level, which is probably why you can see so many mouths lip-synching, whispering the lyrics in the audience. The songs have staying power every bit as strong as pop ballads from the Great American Songbook.

The music and the storybook merge together in this show which has a snazzy but sparse set, authentic clothes and tough talk from the era(s) it covers. You hear doo-wop music from the early sixties of the kind practiced by rock-star-wannabes, you hear a girl’s group called the Angels sing the thoroughly familiar “My Boyfriend’s Back,” but mostly you hear the playbook of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.

And this group, the guys on stage at the National Theater, give off a vivid illusion of at least sounding maybe better than the originals, at least if all you know of the originals in performance mode are the scratchy offerings on YouTube. As rock and rollers, the Seasons are no Stones or even Beatles, although the guitar playing every now and then breaks off into some wild riffs. What Valli and Guido, the true creative forces behind the group, created was a unique sound, pitched by Valli’s high, high and higher notes, and then pulled together into harmonies that sweep over the audience like the kind of surf the Beach Boys rode in on.

Valli, in this show as well as in previous visits to D.C., is performed by Joseph Leo Bwarie – diminutive, with big, pitch-dark eyes and a voice to match Valli’s as well as a tangible stage presence as an actor. He doesn’t have Valli’s harder, masculine, handsome look but you could see why girls might swoon and want to mother and smother him. Those high notes, sweeping out of nowhere, put the soprano in “The Sopranos.”

The group’s story was of course full of strife, drama, hysterics, betrayals and jealousy, like any normal marriage of four guys with egos and talent. DiVito, never far from the wise guys, runs up a huge gambling debt (not to mention a tax lien), which Valli and the group decides to cover. Marriages fail, and Valli loses his talented daughter to drug addiction and overdose at 22. Things happen, and the fact that these guys are from Jersey, which is not quite heartland America but full of tough guys, tough love and heart, makes the show as affecting as the music alone.

At one point, one wise guy asks the guy holding the gambling debt, “Why aren’t these guys dead yet?” He says, “Well, we really like their music.”

Me too. And so will you.

(“Jersey Boys” runs at the National Theater through Jan. 7, 2012.)

Mary Bird • November 22, 2011

The Washington Ballet heralded the always treasured holiday presentation of The Nutcracker, now celebrating its 50th season begun under WB founder Mary Day, with a “Sip & Shop” holiday preview at the Ballet’s studios on Nov. 12 and 13. Ballet students enchanted shoppers as they sipped champagne while touring the holiday market featuring over 20 vendors of original jewelry, clothing, hand-crafted accessories and much more. The retailers donated 20% of their proceeds to the Ballet. [gallery ids="100385,111232,111248,111244,111237,111240" nav="thumbs"]

Mary Bird • November 21, 2011

Tony Award winning performer Melba Moore conquered her audience at the
Jewish Community Center (DCJCC) in her Nov. 8 concert at the Aaron & Cecile Goldman Theater. Event Chair David Bruce Smith termed Moore a “Renaissance woman” renowned for her four-octave range. When she took over Diane Keaton’s role in Hair, she became the first black actress to replace a white lead on Broadway. The evening’s repertoire included standards by Irving Berlin and Duke Ellington. In closing, Moore proposed to a toast “to health, wealth, to your happiness and to mine.”

Mary Bird •

Nearly 200 guests filled the House of Sweden on Nov. 3 for the annual Horton’s Kid’s Benefit Gala. The event, “Cocktails and Crooners,” featured a Rat Pack theme with live big band music provided by Radio King Orchestra and a silent auction with many framed photos of the Rat Pack celebrities. Spike Mendelsohn, the Top Chef All Star and long-time supporter of Horton’s Kids, was on hand to mix, mingle and thank the guests including many of the city’s top lobbyists, for their participation. Brenda Chamberlain, Executive Director of Horton’s Kids, spoke of the non-profit’s work in providing tutoring, mentoring and other services to the underprivileged children living in Anacostia. Horton’s Kids was founded 20 years ago and is a 2011 winner of The Washington Post Award for Excellence in Nonprofit Management. [gallery ids="102429,121608,121618,121613" nav="thumbs"]

Mary Bird •

Fairmont hotels declared Nov. 12 as an “official” day to pay tribute to all things tea. “Get Steeped with Fairmont” was celebrated around the world with signature “Tea-quila” cocktails in Dallas and a multi-cultural tea celebration in Maui. Diana Bulger, Area Director of Public Relations for Fairmont Hotels & Resorts, chose to honor protocol expert Carole Margaret Randolph at a tea with friends. Carol, who teaches modern manners and protocol to children, teens and adults, often holds classes at The Fairmont. Diana said that Carole “gracefully turned little girls and boys into charming young ladies and gentlemen, teaching them how to become comfortable in any social situation while using perfect manners and silverware.” Executive Sous Chef Ian Bens and Executive Pastry Chef Aron Weber prepared delicious tea delicacies. Guests departed with a Fairmont bone china tea cup and saucer made in England. [gallery ids="100384,111222,111234,111227,111231" nav="thumbs"]

Mary Bird •

A bevy of beauties were accompanied down the stairs to the Ritz-Carlton ballroom on Nov. 10 by elegantly attired gentlemen and then greeted by the very unattired splendor of denizens of “muscle beach” in keeping with the evening’s St. Tropez theme. Cheryl Mari and Jill Sorensen founded Knock Out Abuse (KOA) 18 years ago to raise funds and awareness for victims of domestic violence in our area. Maryland Lieutenant Governor Anthony G. Brown was recognized for his commitment to the cause. Tireless advocate Jaci Wilson Reid served as the 2011 Chair. Andrea Roane of WUSA9 emceed the program which honored attorney and author Linda Fairstein, a leading legal expert on crimes against women and children, with the 2011 Legend Award. Lynne Zink ran the live auction which included escapes to Nantucket, South Africa, St. Thomas and Egypt. Performing artist Donna D’Cruz entertained as gentlemen arrived from Fight Night. KOA has raised upwards of $7 million towards ending the cycle of domestic violence.
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Ari Post •

In the pictorial lexicon of American history, there is perhaps no image more potent and quixotic than the archetype of the Native American on horseback. From Walt Disney to J.M. Barry, the lure of the American Indian’s intimacy with these deeply spiritual and powerful creatures has inspired imaginations for generations.

But horses as we know them today didn’t get to the Western hemisphere until Columbus brought a herd of 25 over on his second voyage to the new world in 1493. From this first handful of animals, the lives of Native Americans changed forever. From the way they traveled and hunted, to their celebration rituals and ceremonies, to new artistic expressions and traditions that continue to this day, horses quickly became an indispensable component of Native American life. In their newest exhibit, “A Song for the Horse Nation,” the National Museum of the American Indian takes us deep into the bond between our native citizens and the Horse Nation.

Walking through the exhibition, there are more words and artifacts than you can wrap your head around. But even as you process the first pieces of information, something makes itself clear very quickly: as a culture, American Indians are abundantly thoughtful people. Most of the artifacts and artworks on display in the exhibition have very utilitarian functions, from saddles to headstalls for horses, to basic clothing and housing. And yet everything is executed with a fine and personal sense of style, beauty and aesthetic that recalls some of the great artistic movements of the Common Era. You see the vibrant, earthy color palette of the impressionists, the sophisticated, stylized flatness of the Byzantines and the hieroglyphic narrative of the ancient Egyptians.

Native American culture is well known for its distinct visual language, which seems to have naturally enveloped the Horse Nation upon its introduction into their society. They became expert in fabricating horse gear for hunt and for war while transforming this equipment into a unique level of art.

Some of the most beautiful displays are of the horse masks, used in wartime and in peace to adorn the animals. Made of materials such as owl feathers, hide, buffalo horn, porcupine quills, brass tacks, ermine and even sinew, these masks are haunting and dreamlike, and you can imagine how utterly transformative these head coverings would be if, say, it was charging toward you in battle or part of a ritual dance ceremony.

But perhaps the most significant way that horses transformed Native American life was in their ability to hunt. Before horses, buffalo hunting on the Great Plains was a risky, exhausting and arduous job. Hunters had to track them on foot, and the process involved many men and took days of planning. But on horseback, a lone hunter could bring down a buffalo by himself and with relative efficiency. Furthermore, since tribes could travel farther, access to resources was expanded and people were better fed. As such, they acquired more time for art, spirituality and philosophy.

As their lifestyles now permitted more time for temporal liberties, Native Americans forged unbreakable bonds with the Horse Nation. Plains tribes embraced the horse as a brother in spirit and a link to the supernatural realm, embodying it with beauty, energy and healing powers in ceremonial objects representing these connections. Dance sticks on display in the exhibition were once carried by warriors in ceremonial dances, decorated symbolically with such flourishes as brass bells and eagle feathers.

With the arrival of horses, new ideas in design and ornament circulated through Native trade routes from Mexico to the Pacific Northwest. And while some things were acquired through trading with the Spanish, Native craftsmen largely made their own devices. From saddles, bridles and cinches, to whips and ropes, each tool, as seen in this exhibit, took on a remarkable level of craft and spirituality. Blending a variety of international influences—Spanish saddles, eastern beadwork, traditions of family and tribal identity—Native artists created a rich new visual art form.

The status of women also improved as a result of the Horse Nation. Horses helped lighten the workload, and women gained more time for creating art and enriching their society. Women’s arts, such as beadwork and ornamenting hides with porcupine quills, flourished.

The issue of Native identity continues to resonate today, as Native people across the country seek to claim the future on their own terms. Ushering in Native American heritage month this November, “A Song for the Horse Nation” shines a light on the soul of the American Indian’s national community and invites us in to experience it ourselves. It is difficult to encapsulate everything within this exhibition, but as a whole, it resonates with the strength and beauty of a stallion.

“A Song for the Horse Nation” is on view at the National Museum of the American Indian through Jan. 2, 2013. For more information visit the museum’s website: NMAI.si.edu.
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Gary Tischler •

Culturally speaking, Robert Aubry Davis is big.

If this city ever appointed a minister of culture, someone who represents what it is to be a Washingtonian to the world, Davis would be perfect for the job. He’s already been doing it, unofficially but regularly, for decades.

Generous to a fault with his voluminous knowledge about all things cultural, be it medieval lutes, lines from the poetry of John Keats, or folk music both modern and anonymous, Davis is the cultural promoter par excellence. The longer he lives, the more he knows and does, and the Washington cultural scene is all the better for it. Of course, there are some people, having just been exposed to a flood of Davis erudition, that walk away exhausted.

Somewhere, sometime, if you’ve been around long enough, you’ve heard the name Robert Aubry Davis. Maybe you’ve heard him on “Symphony Hall “and “Pops,” the classical channels on Sirius XM. He’s also program director for the folk channel “The Village.” He produces and hosts “Millennium of Music,” now in its 33rd year on public radio. For the past 26 years, he has been the erudite and personable host of “Around Town,” a forum of Washington area critics discussing all manners of local art on WETA. You can also find him cajoling, guilt tripping, and congenially prodding for donations at WETA’s pledge drives.

His manner is at once imperious but outgoing, partly because he is a large man who speaks English with an unquiet voice that elongates vowels and nails consonants with precision. What you’re really getting is his enthusiasms, his expertise, and his ravenous hunger to explain and learn at the same time. At some point, he just bowls you over.

As an arts writer, I do a little cultural stuff myself, and one thing I know is that wherever I go, more often than not Davis is there too. Whether it’s an exhibition opening at the National Gallery of Art, opening night at the Shakespeare Theatre Company, the opera or a 12th century lute performance, David is there.

He’s also a very brave man, by my way of thinking. Drop by Shirlington sometime during the run of Signature Theater’s holiday production of the musical version of John Waters’ “Hairspray” (Nov. 21 – Jan. 29), and Davis will be there. But you might have trouble recognizing him.

Davis is playing Edna Turnblad, the large, nervous, overly protective mother of the hit Broadway musical, which won eight Tony’s in 2003.

“I thought Robert would be perfect for the part,” said Signature Artistic Director and founder Eric Schaeffer. “He has a personality, he has charisma, everybody knows him, it’s a great part—I think that would appeal to him.”

In an interview with BroadwayWorld.com announcing the casting, Davis said, in true form, “Eric Schaeffer, has, like a tomb raider of old, decided to wake the sleeping thespian long buried in my breast.”

“To tell you the truth, I thought, No,” he said. “I haven’t been on stage since, I don’t know, college—which was a long time ago. I thought this was crazy. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought I could do this. But still, starting with rehearsal, waiting to go on, doing the day-to-day work, it’s a little frightening.

“It confirms what I already knew but not so viscerally,” he said. “Something like this, a theater piece itself, is hard, hard work. It’s unbelievably hard. It reconfirms my respect for everyone involved in theater and for the group of people who are doing this with me and helping me. They’ve been incredible. And I am enjoying myself.”

“Hairspray,” for the uninitiated, is a story that originated from the eccentric mind of world renowned filmmaker John Waters, a Baltimore native, who made a movie version that served as the source material for the ensuing musical. It’s about a spunky, plus-size Baltimore teenager named Tracy Turnblad who wins a spot on “The Corny Collins Show,” a local teen dance show a la American Bandstand. But as the promo suggests: “Can a plus-size trendsetter in dance and fashion vanquish the program’s reigning princess, win the heart of heartthrob Link Larkin and integrate a television show without denting her ‘do’?”

And can Tracy’s mother Edna overcome her own shyness and insecurity—she hardly ever goes outside—and join her daughter in the spotlight?

And there’s one more thing. Edna is written to be played by a man. And in this case, Davis is that man.

Davis will be walking in the high heeled footsteps of some formidable men: the late, acclaimed drag queen Divine from Waters’ original cult film, the gravelly-voiced Harvey Fierstein, and superstar John Travolta, who played Edna in the film version of the musical.

“But I didn’t just want to go up there and pretend to be a woman in big clothes,” Davis said. “I think Edna is a wonderfully maternal person who’s always had trouble with being comfortable in her own skin, with her size, in ways that her daughter doesn’t. I can relate to that. I’m a big person—tall, extra weight—and everybody who’s extra-large or heavy always has to find a way to deal with that… It’s not as difficult for men, but our culture has thin as a kind of ideal for women. So I looked at the maternal side for one thing. My wife and I have two children, and that lets me get a little into my maternal side, which is pretty strong. My son says that he sometimes thinks he has two mothers.”

Of course, this being Robert Aubry Davis, it won’t be Edna 24-7. He will still provide the narration for “A Celtic Christmas” at Dumbarton Methodist Church in Georgetown, (Dec. 3, 4, 10 and 11) as he has for several decades. As music goes, it’s not quite so rarefied as the Gregorian chants that he plays on his radio program, but it’s another display of his passion for old music.

Edna, on the other hand, is a display of something else entirely: a willingness to take on a challenge with gusto and a boundless curiosity for the human heart on display. If experience is knowledge, than Robert Aubry Davis is learning something new under Edna’s makeup, and as is his wont, he’s sharing it with us.

For more information visit Signature-Theatre.org.
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