"MIDSUMMER" WINS!

Congratulations to Sandra Clayton, Brandon Crowder, Stacie Rearden Hall, Kerry McGee and Adam Mincks, the cast of A Midsummer Night's Dream, for winning the 2009 Richmond Theatre Critics Circle Award for Best Ensemble Acting!

This award is the second-greatest honor of my professional career. The greatest was working with these talented artists and beautiful human beings in the first place.

Cheers!

RTCC Awards 2009

I hate arts awards.

Hate is a strong word. Let me back up a bit.

I am deeply suspicious of labeling one person’s art as being superior to another’s, or in the case of a “Best” award, all the others’. Art is incredibly subjective, both from the perspective of the performer and the audience, and theatre perhaps the most of all. For example, what about the phoned-in performance that critics and audiences love? Is it “good” art because people liked it, or “bad” art because little effort was invested in its creation? And what about the brilliant performance that half of a small audience simply didn’t get? Who’s at fault; the actor, the playwright, the director, the spectator? Everyone or no one?

So I don’t like arts awards. I don’t watch them on TV and I don’t care what the results are. I hate the politics, the sense of entitlement, the atmosphere of egocentric self-congratulation.

So it’s fortunate that this isn’t what the RTCC awards this Sunday are about.

Last year’s awards were one of my favorite memories of all Richmond theatre. Friends and colleagues gathered at the Firehouse to celebrate each other’s craft in an evening of fellowship and congratulation, a night of wine, women and song, and of men who looked so good in tuxedoes it made me wish for the fashions of yesteryear. The Richmond Shakespeare contingent was the bad kids in the back rows, making a ruckus as usual. I had written more than a couple blog treatises about how much I hate arts awards, so it was with more than a little awkwardness that I sat, a nominee. Fortunately, the puck my show won was for costumes, and Becky Cairns got to give a speech instead of whatever unrehearsed horribleness might have spewed from my piehole. For me, events like this are especially odd, because most of my Richmond theatre experience is with one company and I don’t know many of the performers who work elsewhere, simply because we haven’t played together—and because I am often too shy to stick around after shows I see to tell performers I don’t know that I liked their work. (Yes, I am shy; try not to faint.)

This year, I am once again honored to have a show nominated for an “Artsie.” (By the way, let me just publically state here that “Artsie” is the most generic name imaginable for an award. Can’t we find a way to name them after the first recipient of a memorial award, Liz Marks? The “Lizzies,” or the “Marksies?” Even “Ratsies” or “Ritzies” is better. Maybe we could use one of the rejected baseball team names, which are also hideous.) That’s actually what I most wanted to write about today, but I haven’t blogged in forever, so I’ve sort of rambled a bit.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream is nominated for “Best Ensemble Acting” this year, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. This is quite a contrast to last year’s noms for As You Like It, which caused me mortal dread at the prospect of winning, dread which was only assuaged by the certain knowledge that there was no way in hell the show would win Best Play or Best Director. Interestingly, when the 2008 nominations were announced, I mentioned that a “Best Ensemble” award, like at the SAG Awards, would be a welcome addition. While I was, indeed, thinking of the experiences of directing Doctor Faustus (an ensemble of two) and As You Like It (another truly remarkable couple of ensembles) at the time, this seems more than a bit self-serving now; ironically so since A) it’s an acting award and therefore not mine to receive, and B) I would be dreading the prospect of winning it were I able to do so. Wrap your head around that mass of contradictions. My ambition of becoming a real-life Joss Whedon character is fulfilled.

But I absolutely have to re-state how immensely proud I am of the Midsummer company: actors Sandra Clayton, Brandon Crowder, Stacie Rearden Hall, Kerry McGee and Adam Mincks, designers and crew members Ray Bullock, Becky Cairns, Will Hankins, Annie Hoskins, Bryan Laubenthal, Emily Rawlings, Caroline Sumner, J. David White and David White (confusing, I know), musicians Jake Allard, Todd Borden, Holly Harris and Holly Lucas (who was also a designer) and everyone at Second Pres and Agecroft Hall whose names aren’t on the tip of my cerebrum, not to mention producers Grant Mudge and Richard Moxley. This is technically an acting award, but all those people are honorees in my book. That’s what ensemble is about, in my book.

When I direct, I try to strike a balance between making it fun and making it a challenge, and these actors rose to the fun of the challenge and the challenge of the fun like none I’ve ever worked with. For a director who prides himself in building ensembles, their nomination is an indescribable honor. Plus, it’s the best of all possible worlds: I can root for them without having the awkwardness of actually having to accept an award if they win. Score!

So regardless of what happens on Sunday evening, I offer my congratulations to the cast of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and I look forward to seeing my enormous Richmond Theatre family dressed to the nines for a celebration of our trials and triumphs at the Empire on Sunday night.

Belated Reviews for Midsummer "Midsummer"

From Style Weekly:

Getting Some Fairy Tail

Richmond Shakespeare’s "Midsummer" adds pop culture to a play that is sexy or innocent, depending on what you’re looking for.
7/8/2009
by Mary Burruss

Five actors populate the "Midsummer" forest with nearly two dozen characters, all more or less excited about getting together.

Sensual is the word that summarizes the Richmond Shakespeare Festival’s version of "A Midsummer Night’s Dream," Shakespeare’s ode to love. It is steamy yet playful, capturing the giddiness of young lovers and proving my companion’s point that "Shakespeare is all about hooking up." But this show is not just for grown-ups; several children in the audience thoroughly enjoyed themselves, laughing often while the sexual innuendo sailed harmlessly overhead.
Part of the fun of the play is Shakespeare’s observations of the incompatible behaviors of men and women engaged in timeless entanglements. To emphasize the differences between the sexes, director Andrew Hamm casts three voluptuous goddesses to contrast with his muscular males. The five-player ensemble -- Sandra Clayton, Brandon Crowder, Stacie Rearden Hall, Kerry McGee and Adam Mincks -- displays remarkable versatility and physicality as they play 22 human and mystical characters with Richmond Shakespeare’s trademark modern-day adaptations.
All of them sing, act and move marvelously well, but Crowder amazes with his spiderlike embodiment of Oberon and McGee shines as the mischievous, childlike Puck. Hall sings a mean rendition of "Let’s Hear it for the Boy" during intermission and Egeus will never sound the same again without Clayton’s expert Boston accent. Minks gets high marks for his Bottom (no pun intended).
While Hamm’s use of pop-culture references and music amplifies the fun-loving spirit of the show, an added original song at the close drags out the ending. And although the play-within-a-play is so hilarious it prods shrieks of laughter from the audience, it could use some editing. But aside from that, there is not a better way to spend a midsummer night.

"A Midsummer Night’s Dream" plays through July 12 at Agecroft Hall at 8 p.m. Gates open at 7 p.m. for picnics. Tickets are $25. Visit www.richmondshakespeare.com or call 866-BARD-TIX.


From The Richmond Times-Dispatch:

Irreverent ‘Midsummer’ is so hilarious it hurts

SUSAN HAUBENSTOCK SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT
Published: July 5, 2009
One-line review: I laughed so hard at Richmond Shakespeare's new production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" that I got a headache.
The perennial favorite of Richmond Shakespeare and the Shakespeare canon itself is back for a short run at gorgeous Agecroft Hall. Andrew Hamm directs this time, pushing the comedy and mayhem way past any previous boundaries of taste, propriety, reverence for the Bard and other annoyances.
We have here a cell phone and a drag queen, imitations of William Shatner and Christopher Walken, a Macbeth-worthy Scottish accent and a half-witted Starveling with a stick. It's just nuts.
Hamm uses the company's customary five-actor approach, which guarantees craziness as two men and three women take on 21 roles, switching dizzily from one part to another with just a change of hat or vest.
When you pursue the comedy this strenuously, you get the laughs you want, but there's a cost. The rest of the play -- romances and rivalries among Theseus and Hippolyta, Hermia and Lysander, Helena and Demetrius, Oberon and Titania -- seem like arid patches that have to be gone through to get to the next guffaw. That's unfortunate, because the actors do admirable work with language, with distinctions among roles and with movement. But subtlety suffers as too many speeches are delivered at top volume.
All five actors expend staggering amounts of energy. Sandra Clayton does a broad Boston accent as Egeus and is hilarious as the wall in the play within the play. Stacie Rearden Hall projects majesty and sensuality as Hippolyta and Titania; she does a nutty foreign-accented Snug and a desperate Helena. Kerry McGee's Hermia is petulant and her Puck unique, more demented and disorganized than crafty. Like her cast-mates, she throws herself into her roles with breathtaking physical abandon.
But the guys dominate the proceedings through sheer forcefulness. Adam Mincks acts largely with his deltoids, doing a callow Demetrius and a relentlessly preening Bottom. When he appears as Pyramus in Julie White's fabulous hardware-store armor, he blows the audience away with mirth. And Brandon Crowder is the prime chameleon here, with four big roles. He's imperious and randy as Theseus, lovelorn as Lysander and mesmerizing as Oberon. But his shameless Flute is beyond hysterical and was the main cause of my laughter headache.
For the first time, the Rebecca Cairns/Ann Hoskins costumes are lackluster, but J. David White's lighting is luscious, especially in the woodland scenes. And the fairy puppets are imaginative but not particularly effective.
Richmond Shakespeare moves its indoor season to Center Stage in the fall. I hope the place is well-built, because this company might bring down the house -- with laughter.

Reviews are in for "A Midsummer Night's Dream!"

From Style Weekly:

There was a moment during Richmond Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” when I literally could not stop laughing. Near the play’s end, the sheer lunatic brilliance of director Andrew Hamm’s off-kilter rendering of the Shakespeare classic reached such a fever pitch that I found myself lost in the sea of silliness. I would have been more embarrassed about my guffaws if there weren’t several others in the audience doing the same thing.

Possibly the Bard’s most endearingly romantic comedy, “Midsummer’s” plot involves fairies, love potions, a man semitransformed into an ass, and quite a bit of mayhem. As if that were not enough, Hamm’s inspired cast pushes every envelope available. Sensual interludes between lovers stray into serious PG-13 territory. Characters who are supposed to be bad actors are hilariously horrendous. Some of the physical comedy looks downright painful, thanks to fight choreography help by David White.

Ensemble members throw themselves into multiple roles with abandon. Brandon Crowder leads this rowdy band, effecting breakneck changes between the regal Duke of Athens to the almost aggressively swishy Flute and eliciting laughs with as little as a well-placed glance along the way. Adam Mincks chews the scenery ravenously as donkey-eared Bottom, who attracts the affection of Fairy Queen Titania (Stacie Rearden Hall) thanks to the juice of a magical flower administered by Puck (Kerry McGee). Hall’s lusty looks are bracing while McGee is alternately fervent as the love-struck Hermia and delightfully impish as Puck. Sandra Clayton rounds out the crew ably with several small but vital bit parts.

It seems peckish to note that some of Shakespeare’s lyrical language gets lost in modernisms such as “Sweet!” and “Awesome!” But Hamm makes up for it by inserting charming musical interludes into the action with a cast (particularly Hall) in spectacular voice. For a show not billed as a musical, this “Dream” sings. — David Timberline

And from the Richmond Times-Dispatch:

Richmond Shakespeare's season finale a fun one

JULINDA LEWIS SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT

Published: April 19, 2009

"A Midsummer Night's Dream," Richmond Shakespeare Theatre's final production of its indoor season under the direction of Andrew Hamm, roars delightfully into its raucous conclusion, which includes a play within a play and a wedding celebration.

There is something old (the play by William Shakespeare), something new (the cast and the indoor location at Second Presbyterian Church), something borrowed (costumes and props from previous "Dream" productions), and something . . . (well, there's got to be something blue in there somewhere).

With costumes and set kept to a bare minimum, the cast of five takes on 21 roles, resulting in effects and situations that might have surprised the Bard himself.

This "Dream" features a tight-knit and lovable ensemble. Some of the casting contrasts are startling and ingenious. Sandra Clayton is the elitist Egeus as well as the simple carpenter; Peter Quince, leader of the local community of actors, also known as the Mechanicals; Brandon Crowder is both the noble Theseus, Duke of Athens, and Francis Flute, the bellows mender who plays the role of Thisbe in the play-within-a-play.

And while it is not unusual for men to play women's roles in Elizabethan theater, Crowder's over-the-top Thisbe, dressed in a contemporary beauty queen evening gown and some killer black stilettos, leaves an indelible impression.

Kerry McGee gives Robin Starveling, the tailor member of the acting troupe, a round-shouldered, slumped posture, slow movements and delayed reactions that suggest poor Starveling may have either mental or chemically induced challenges.

The cast is rounded out by Stacie Rearden Hall, who plays Demetrius's lover Helena as well as three other roles, and Adam Mincks, who plays Demetrius, as well as Nick Bottom, who, as the unfortunate object of Puck's prankishness, ends up with a donkey's head and the magically induced love of the fair (sic) queen, Titania.

Shakespeare's words, juxtaposed against modern-day clothing and props, and in the hands -- and mouths -- of this enthusiastic and zany cast made 2½ hours in uncomfortable chairs in an overheated chapel fly.

(Man, Blogger is annoying. I have no idea how the formatting on this thing is going to look from computer to computer. As soon as you add a damn picture, all the spacing goes to hell with this thing.)

Obviously, I'm very pleased to get two such nice reviews. And far be it from me to complain about the nit-picky details of theatre journalism. That would be downright peckish of me (snicker). But the experience of receiving a pair of pretty silly reviews for my last show (the T-D spending half the column inches recapping a plot most everyone knows from the famous movie, the Style Weekly referring to an actor's underwear twice and her acting never) has me somewhat prickly.

I do wish Style would stop this practice of combining two reviews under one headline. In an environment where print media is bleeding market share to the interwebs, it is odd and inconvenient for them to mash two pieces under one heading, making both reviews baffling for search engines and making it extremely difficult for the second review to be effectively posted on Facebook and other such sites. On my Facebook page, it looks like some kind of a computer glitch: the headline and beginning of the review of the AART production of Steel Magnolias juxtaposed with a picture of the Midsummer cast, which, trust me, couldn't double for their show.

This isn't just a hypothetical complaint. I was contacted earlier this month by a theatre producer who is interested in bringing me in to direct a five-actor As You Like It next year based on the the strength of last spring's reviews. He found them by doing a search for small-cast Shakespeare. I'm not sure he would find Style's review, which would help me very much, very easily, and if he did, a casual glance would not encourage a scroll down to read it.

As for the Times-Dispatch, I suppose one can blame the short staff for the typos (most of which I fixed above, though "fair queen" was too amusing to repair). But it does appear that Kerry only played Starveling, no one in particular played Puck and Titania, and that Oberon did not appear in the play. Actually, both reviews omit Oberon entirely, which disappoints me tremendously. I love my entire ensemble, and cherish how much each of them has brought his or her own personality and joy to the process and the performances. But Brandon's non-realistic movement style as Oberon is absolutely one of the most noteworthy and interesting aspects of the show, and the fact that a dancer-reviewer didn't mention it at all was a big letdown to me. I was so excited that she was going to see these actors (Brandon, Kerry, and Stacie) perform these decidedly non-human movement styles, and not a mention! Seriously, I'm as frustrated by these good reviews omitting this one aspect as I have been from any bad review I've ever gotten. Brandon's work in this show deserves notice. In a company brimming with singular performances, this one merits ink. Or pixels.

That said, it was a blast to watch Julinda and Dave T laugh their butts off Friday night. There is a tendency for people in the theatre critiquing business, either as writers or artists, to go to the theater and demand to be impressed. I had a dear friend come to As You Like It last spring and sit in the back row the entire show, arms crossed, scowling. He never told me what he thought of it, a clear implication that he hated it. Everyone else in the audience, in every audience, smiled and laughed and clapped, but this one guy had had his ability to just enjoy stripped away by years of feeling the need to appear impressive. We all know these people: theatre artists who seem to hate theatre--or at least theatre they aren't in. So it was lovely to see the Reviewers of Record abandoning themselves to the barely-controlled chaos and silliness of our Dream.

Not all of the jokes land. I can't make the Christopher Walken cowbell joke work, so it's getting cut. But a new one, where Bottom calls for a line during the climax of "Pyramus and Thisbe," more than compensates. I don't say this often, but I will here: if you like this play or like this company, I recommend coming to see the show early in the run so you can come again later. The company has a lot of leeway to adlib and grow their performances, so there are going to be a lot of new and different funnies from night to night.

I plan to write my requisite "Making-Of Featurette" post later this week, so look for it in this space. For now, I'm unashamedly basking in the glow of overwhelmingly positive critical and audience response. This company is wonderful; the only thing I can compare it to is last spring's As You Like It group, and they turned out okay.

EDIT: Dave T took justified umbrage at my frustration over the omission of Oberon in both reviews. Frustration is frustration; it makes you say "Awww, MAN!" and type dumb stuff.

Let me clarify that I'm honored and tickled at the positive audience and critical response to this show. (You should have seen the two guys in the front row last night. They are going to be sore for days from laughing.) I had just really hoped that this fantastically physical performance, as well as the relationship between Oberon and Puck, could be squeezed in. 300 words is an awfully tight restriction, but I really want to share the wonder of these actors' work with everyone. I know you can't fit everything in, but Oberon is the play's biggest role, you know?

Trust me, it takes something I'm very passionate about to make me nit-pick rave reviews. Thank goodness for the interwebs, which allow us to talk for as long as we want about these things.

As for the two-review thing, I'm not talking about review length, or even the print edition. I'm talking about separating the reviews into two different URLs with two different headlines and sets of search parameters for purposes of web searching. The internet is a huge information archive, and Style Weekly should be thinking about future accessibility.

A funny thing happened on the way to Vienna...

Remember back when I talked about how I was going to blog a bunch about the process of doing Amadeus? Well, a funny thing interfered with that plan: the process of doing Amadeus.

Sorry, folks. I simply have never had my ass so thoroughy kicked by a role. That's as it should be, and I still feel as if I'm only just getting my fingers wrapped around the complexity and specificity of the show. But I have spent almost every spare moment of the past four weeks working on physical scoring and, frankly, my voluminous lines. Seriously, on my lunch break, in the car, in the shower, in bed before falling asleep...

So no, I haven't had time to write as extensively as I wanted to. I'll try to make up for that now.

THE SCRIPT

Every time I have worked on a play by Shakespeare, I have been amazed at how the writer's genius reveals itself more clearly the deeper I work on the show. Working on Hamlet and Measure for Measure, in particular, made me a fan of plays I wasn't too fond of to start with. The reverse, in an amusing way, has been true for Amadeus.

Not that it isn't a brilliant script, not at all, and it remains one of my favorite modern plays. But if you ever want to play the Amadeus drinking game, take a shot every time Salieri says something happened "suddenly." It's got to be 20 or more. Don't even get me started on all the interchangeable adjectives beginning with "a" "e" and "i".

This has been an incredibly difficult script to memorize. I gave myself easily three times as much time to learn my lines as I ever have before, only to discover that it was actually going to take ten times as much. Perhaps I'm spoiled by memorizing iambic pentameter, which is actually downright easy in many ways. Perhaps I'm just getting old; Gary Hopper once told me that he quit acting because memorization just got too difficult as he got older. Perhaps it's all the suddenlies. No fooling; this play is filled with repetition, and the repeats almost never have the same intention. The variations on "mercy," "pity" and "forgiveness" in the climactic scene just defied retention for weeks. I've never had such a hard time. The fact that I've never played a role half this size certainly didn't help.

The trickiest thing with the script has been honoring the intent of the punctuation marks while ignoring the timing they imply. Shaffer is inordinately fond of italics...ellipses—long dashes—and, quite suddenly, without warning, exclamation points! Occasionally even ALL CAPS! (Desperately implying an acting direction in the script:) Or all caps—IN ITALICS!

If we honored every punctuation mark, pause, and font emphasis, we'd have a three-and-a-half-hour melodrama largely featuring me yelling at God. (Okay, we kind of have that now.) Shaffer clearly has an idea in his head of exactly how every line should be delivered, which really rankles with me. It reminds me of Eugene O'Neill, who writes so many stage directions one wonders why he didn't just write a damn novel. At some point, I want my playwright to trust that his actors' and directors' ideas about the characters just might possibly be as good as his on occasion.

But Amadeus has, in fact, revealed itself to me as we've worked. It's a very different story than I thought it was, and at the same time it's more of what I thought than I had realized.

THE DIRECTOR

That's where James Bond (as seen on Letterman) comes in. He's had no compunctions about ignoring Shaffer's exotic formatting in the service of moving the action forward and setting up contrast for when the big emotional moments have to escalate. He's also mercilessly shattered many of my ideas about how the character's arc should travel. He always does this with me, and it's always for the best. As usual, I can't always remember where his ideas end and mine begin. It's glorious. The result is a trim two and a half hour production of a script full of melodramatic idioms that should really take about 3:10 if played as written.

Also, he makes me laugh. He sends me poetry in text message form and occasionally just ignores the playwright's intentions flagrantly. My favorite example, from about two weeks ago:

JAMES: Is there a question mark at the end of that "I amuse"?

ANDREW: No, it's a period.

JAMES: Are you sure it's not a question mark?

ANDREW: Yeah. "I amuse."

JAMES: Let's pretend it's a typo. Play it like a question mark.

THE COMPANY

I couldn't be more pleased with the cast and crew, if for no other reason than how much kindness and mercy they have shown a prickly lead actor desperately afraid he wasn't going to be as prepared for the show as he wanted to be. Feeling the pressure as never before (not to mention doing the hugest role I've ever had, while working two other jobs), I've been a bit of a prick the past few weeks, and that's really not the guy I am to work with.

Fortunately, Mike, Liz, Joe, Jamie the actor, Jake, Dave, Katie, Cynde, and Jamie the stage manager have all been fantastic and professional the whole while. One of the tragedies about a play of this sort, which depends so much on a single character's magnetism, is how so many beautifully portrayed characters can fade into the background, especially when so few of them have a memorable exit from the story. There's some really great work being done in this show: Katie's silent Katherina and petulant Strack, Jamie's priceless "gay toad" Rosenberg, the foppish choreography of the Venticelli Dave and Jake, Cynde's imperious, childish Joseph II, Joe's hyper-serious Van Swieten and doddering Bonno. Liz is always wonderful to work with and watch work, and her Constanze is Mozart's equal in cunning and commitment.

Mike Hamilton is my number one guy, a hard-working and risk-taking blur of energy and growing craft. Keep and eye on this young actor, Richmond, and cast him while he's here. His Mozart is a powerful engine in this show, and if my Salieri's scorn, sabotage, and finally pity come across at all honest, it is because Mike gives me so much to work with. He makes it so easy to hate his annoying, arrogant face throughout the first act, then to gloat over his dissolution in the second, but is his utter collapse at the end that destroys me every night.

We're all really working our asses off to make each other look good. It's freaking sweet.

THE COSTUMES

Speaking of looking good, Becky Cairns and Annie Hoskins have outdone themselves this time. I know I always say that (and Becky promises me she has amazing things in store for Midsummer), but this is even more true than usual. James calculated that they were effectively making something along the lines of 35 cents per hour on the costumes for this show (ain't Richmond theatre grand?), for which we have begun referring to them as "the Chinese children." Ah, sweatshop humor... Seriously, the CCs have worked a budgetary miracle this time around in recreating the lines and colors of the late 18th century. I say it every time, but they have outdone themselves. They are nothing short of the costuming MacGyver.

As a side note, it's a bit odd to be propositioning a character played by Liz Blake in the same jacket two years in a row. Next I'll be playing Uncle Peck in it...

AND FINALLY

I want to give a huge shout-out to Jamie Lish, our stage manager, who has come through in so very many ways for this show. Amadeus doesn't feel like it was a tech-heavy show until we're packing up at the end of the night. She keeps everything in order, including us silly players, and lays down the beats as sound board operator DJ Jamie up in the booth every night. And she always does it with a smile and a kind word. Except when she shouldn't.

Thanks to U of R for loaning us their sound design, keeping us from having to reinvent the wheel.

And thanks to Bryan Laubenthal for putting seats on the chairs. Woot.

Amadeus runs through March 8. Go to Richmond Shakespeare's website to order tickets!

First images from "Amadeus"

Eric Dobbs and the dazzling Becky Cairns / Annie Hoskins team worked their magic on Tuesday night for Amadeus' initial promotional pictures. Check it out:


Look at the size of Mike's hair! It's like some kind of shrub growing on his head. And wait until you see me in a wig.

Rehearsals are going like lightning. I don't know if I've ever blocked anything so fast; we're almost finished with act one. The cast is just brilliant top-to-bottom, very sharp and quick and simply a pleasure to spend time with, much less act beside. I'm not where I'd like to be, memorization-wise, but then again I never am. After last night's rehearsal I found a quiet seat at Barcode to highlight my key words and eat some pecan-crusted salmon. My waitress was hot. I should ask her out.

I read Amadeus every couple of years, so I'm finding that I already know large chunks of the show very well. It's the new ending, written for the 1999 revival, that is going to give me a hard time.

Blogadeus

Every actor has a list: a collection of the roles they most want to play. These are the roles that thrill us, that intrigue us, that challenge us, maybe even the roles that we alone know we could play even though no one else thinks we could pull it off. Sometimes they are the roles that got away, or the roles we watched another great actor perform. When we check the audition notices and see that a local company is producing a play with one of our list roles in it, our hearts beat a little faster and we start to dream. We may even decide that we wouldn't accept another role in the show, simply because the heartbreak of missed opportunity could interfere with our work.

My list is long and eclectic, from the classical to the contemporary, straight plays and musicals. The double-H's: Harold Hill in The Music Man and Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady. Both Freddy and Anatoly in Chess, both Jesus and Judas in Jesus Christ Superstar and Che in Evita. Edmund in King Lear and Bolingbroke in Richard II. Dysart in Equus, the Stage Manager in Our Town, Picasso at the Lapin Agile and Alceste in The Misanthrope. Mark in Rent (for which I was called back in New York in 1998, a pure delight). Both Lee and Austin in True West, preferably alternating night-by-night. Father Flote in Red Noses, Lopakhin in The Cherry Orchard, Rakitin in A Month in the Country. I could go on and on. I dream a lot.

I know I will never get to play all, or likely even a fraction of these roles, though I have been able to check a few off my list in recent years: Romeo and Juliet's Mercutio, Julius Caesar's Cassius, and Twelfth Night's Feste. And my jones to perform in Othello, As You Like It, Doctor Faustus, and A Midsummer Night's Dream has been more than satisfied by directing those shows.

It was a thrill to read Scott Wichmann's blog and talk with the man himself last Fall as he tackled one of the roles on his list, Richard III. His tone of voice, in writing and in person, was different in approaching that particular role. He knew it was a dream come true from the start. I can't help but feel like now it's my turn. This winter, one of my greatest theatrical dreams is coming true as Richmond Shakespeare gives me the opportunity not only to play one of the roles on my list, but the one at the very top: Antonio Salieri in Peter Shaffer's Amadeus.

Amadeus has been my favorite contemporary play ever since I read it in high school. The drama, the language, the moral fireworks and the musical passion resonate in my soul like a bell, with Mozart's innocent arrogance and Salieri's unfulfillable envy both reflecting aspects of my own character that I am most ashamed of. Each of the two lead roles is a massive undertaking, with Mozart in many ways so close to home that I could almost play the role simply by memorizing the lines and getting on the stage opening night. (Well, not exactly. I don't talk about poop quite as much as Mozart does.) But it is the towering emptiness of Salieri that intrigues me more than any other character I have ever read.

In the next weeks, I intend to write more on the process of Amadeus than I ever have on a show I've blogged, if for no other reason than so I can look back, read it, and remember how I got to play my dream role.

First of all, my deep thanks to Grant Mudge for giving me the opportunity. It was almost three years ago that I broached the subject of Amadeus with Grant, when I had just come on board as Richmond Shakespeare's Director of Training. My suggestion was twofold: first, that the aesthetic of RS's five-actor format would be intriguing in the context of non-Elizabethan scripts, and second, that Amadeus would make a magnificent contribution to the Acts of Faith Festival.

The five-actor format, Richmond Shakespeare's calling card for over a decade, strips away layers of technical elements with the intention of giving theatre a greater immediacy and audience connection. The goal is to streamline the storytelling by relying on the tools of actor, director, and occasionally musician. It isn't that we don't like sets and lights, or that we denigrate their contribution to theatrical storytelling. We simply choose to focus on the actor's body and voice and the text, and to mine every ounce of potential from their skillful engagement. In Amadeus, we have a play that already relies heavily on actors and costumes (our favorite technical element) to mark the passage of time and change of status while eschewing period-specific scenery and lighting. We also have a play with seven principal characters, making doubling those actors with smaller roles very easy.

Beginning with a cast of seven, Director James Alexander Bond (as seen on Letterman) requested that we expand the cast to nine, allowing Salieri's gossip-gathering Venticelli to exist as two separate characters rather than doubles played by the actors portraying Strack and Van Sweiten. (This is a fairly important addition: it is difficult for the gossip gathereres to overhear characters who they can't share the stage with because they share bodies with them.) This puts Amadeus somewhere between the pocket-sized casts of five actors and the large company (for us) of 2 Henry IV's 16. By contrast, last year's Hamlet and 2007's Richard II had casts of 10. Spring's As You Like It was performed with five actors, Summer's with 16.

As for the show's Acts of Faith connection, it may be the most explicitly faith-focused show we have ever performed. Our previous festival offerings of The Merchant of Venice, Othello, Doctor Faustus, and Measure for Measure were of course all strongly faith-focused in their ways, from the anti-Semitic/anti-Christian conflicts of Merchant to Desdemona's Christlike forgiveness in Othello to Faustus' infernal setting and Measure's blatantly sinful hypocrisy. But Amadeus tops them all with an antihero who declares war against God for the divine sin of giving His greatest gift to a man deemed by Salieri as unworthy of it.

In the words of Peter Hall, the play's director both in its original incarnation and its 1999 revival, "Amadeus is probably the most successful serious play of the last half century. It has triumphed everywhere." On top of that, the film won a slew of Academy Awards, and featured iconic performances by Tom Hulce, Elizabeth Berridge, and of course F. Murray Abraham, whose nose I am not worthy to blow. In addition to Abraham's flawless performance, Salieri has been played by Paul Scofield, Ian McKellan, Brian Bedford and David Suchet just for starters. (The list of famous Mozarts is pretty impressive, too.) Invariably, when people find out we're doing Amadeus, the first question is "Who's playing Salieri?"

"Me," I answer, trying to keep my grin from splitting my face wide open.

I really thought I would feel intimidated or afraid of this, but I don't. I've wanted to play this part since I was 16 years old, and I've been thinking about it for a very long time. I know the show is in the best possible hands with James Bond (as seen on Letterman) directing it, and the cast is anchored by performers I trust completely and look forward to seeing every night (Liz Blake as Constanze, Cynde Liffick as Emperor Joseph), young talent we know we can rely on for energy and ideas (Katie Ford as Strack, David Janosik and Jake Allard as the Venticelli), and newcomers to Richmond Shakespeare whom I can't wait to introduce our audiences to (Jamie Reese as Rosenberg, Joseph Sultani as Van Sweiten, and of course Mike Hamilton as Mozart). With RTCC Award winner Becky Cairns and Annie Hoskins designing the costumes, I have no fears. I've been waiting two decades for this, and the company matches my wildest expectations.

Amadeus opens on the portentious Friday the 13th of February (preview on the 12th), and runs through March 8th. Stay tuned for more gushing blogs.

Announcing the cast of "Amadeus"

Antonio Salieri - Andrew Hamm
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Mike Hamilton
Constanze Weber - Liz Blake
Emperor Joseph II - Cynde Liffick
Count Johann Killian Von Strack - Katie Ford
Count Franz Orsini-Rosenberg - Jamie Reese
Baron Gottfried Van Swieten - Joseph Sultani
Venticelli - Jake Allard and David Janosik

Richmond Shakespeare is proud to announce the cast of our next production, Peter Shaffer's modern masterpiece Amadeus, directed by James Alexander Bond. The company is a mix of veterans and newcomers, continuing our commitment to introducing Richmond's theatre scene to fresh talents and developing the artists we have with challenging pieces and roles.

Richmond Theatre Critics Circle Award nominees Andrew Hamm and Liz Blake share the stage for the fourth time (The Taming of the Shrew, Measure for Measure, and Hamlet previously), alongside longtime Richmond Shakes veteran Cynde Liffick (more shows than we can count). Three actors are making their second appearances for the company: Katie Ford (Hamlet), Jake Allard (As You Like It) and David Janosik (The Compleat Works of Wllm Shkspr, Abridged). Jamie Reese makes his memorized-role debut for the company, having appeared in December's staged reading of A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Mike Hamilton and Joseph Sultani once again remind us of how powerful an influence VCU's theatre department is on our local culture.

James Alexander Bond (as seen on Letterman) is directing his fifth production for Richmond Shakespeare, having orchestrated some of the most compelling work the company has ever produced: Julius Caesar, Henry IV Part 1, Measure for Measure, and Henry IV Part 2. He will be returning in the summer to direct Henry V, a unique opportunity for a director to tackle the entire Henriad. Costumes for the show will be designed and constructed by RTCC award-winning (As You Like It) designer Rebecca Cairns with Anne Hoskins.

Amadeus, by Peter Shaffer, will be performed by Richmond Shakespeare from February 12 - March 8 as part of the "Acts of Faith" Festival.

Stay tuned for updates and blogs!

Rocking the "Midsummer" in December

Thank you so much to everyone who was involved in Midsummer in December last night. The cast, the crew, the rehearsal understudies, and the fabulous audience who came out all made it a huge success and an unforgettable evening.

It's amazing what happens when actors have little to no time to rehearse. Spontaneity becomes essential, and impulses have to become final choices; in short, creativity blooms when you don't have time to second-guess. That's why I love things like staged readings, improv, and 24-hour projects so very much.

We will have to do more of these, my friends. I am grateful to all of you.

The show was so successful that Richmond Shakespeare has elected to produce A Midsummer Night's Dream for our final show of the 2008-2009 downtown season. I'm directing it! Yay!

Midsummer in December!

Richmond Shakespeare presents

Midsummer in December



A Midsummer Night's Dream
December 15, 2008
7:00 PM



The weather outside is frightful, but love and fairies are so delightful. Join us for a magical staged reading of the Bard's most beloved comedy, A Midsummer Night's Dream, featuring some of Richmond's most beloved theatre artists: Scott Wichmann, Jennifer Meharg, Audra Honaker, Joe Carlson, Harry Kollatz, Daryl Clark Phillips, David Janosik, Cynde Liffick, TJ Simmons, Liz Blake, Sarah Jamillah Johnson, Shanea Taylor, Julie Phillips, Frank Creasy and more!


Directed by Andrew Hamm, the show features music by Liz and Andrew, with Jake Allard on percussion. The pre-show music is a mix of Richmond Shakes' greatest hits from Midsummer, Hamlet, and The Tempest, as well as love songs from summer's acclaimed production of As You Like It. Come early or you'll miss it.


Monday, December 15, 2008 at 7:00 PM at Second Presbyterian Church (5 N. 5th Street). $15 Adults, $10 Students and Children. All proceeds benefit the Richmond Shakespeare Annual Fund.

Good night, sweet prince

Hamlet closes this afternoon, and I have mixed feelings.

The company has become very close, like soldiers sharing a foxhole, and it is truly a group of very kind, sweet people. I will miss working with them all very much. Playing opposite Jeff Cole has been a singular joy, and the thought of ending that relationship fills me with sadness. (Here's a little behind-the-scenes tidbit for you: In the blackout after Hamlet's death, Jeff and I either clasp hands, or I kiss him on the head, or we tell each other "I love you" every night. It's the only thing that pulls me out of the moment enough to do a curtain call.)

I will miss little moments onstage like looking for the ghost when Hamlet says "Methinks I see my father," like Marcellus and I being dragged to our knees by the Ghost's voice, like how many times Ophelia has heard her father talk about having played Julius Caesar, and the serene calm before the storm of the Gravedigger scene. My favorite moment in the play is just watching Hamlet with Yorick's skull, soaking in his wonderful complexity and loving him.

I will miss this show.

BUT, I'll be grateful for the small break I have through December. I'm starting a new job the week after next. I'm starting to work on my lines and physical vocabulary for Salieri in Amadeus, the role I feel like I've been waiting my whole life to play. And I have two directing projects (neither of which I can talk about yet) in the works, and I want to get as much preliminary work on them done early so I can focus entirely on Salieri in January.

So good night, Hamlet. Thanks for the memories, and for the growth.

What's next?

Richmond Shakespeare's November Workshop

Dialects
(French and Scots)
with David Sennett
Tuesday, November 11, 7:00-9:30 PM

Offend men. Romance women. Or romance men. Offend women. Nothing says romance more than speaking with a French accent, and nothing puts people off quite like the Scots dialect. Learn both in just one evening! Come prepared to leave with a new relationship or a new bruise.

David Sennett, instructor for this workshop, has offended nearly everyone in nearly every dialect. Ever since high school, he has failed at romance, but he suspects that has more to do with his behavior than his accents.

20 students maximum, high school age and older. Cost: $20. Call 232-4000 to make your reservation today!

All classes and workshops are held at Second Presbyterian Church (5 N. 5th Street). Participants should bring a bottle of water and dress for moderate physical activity.

The craziest week

I've been paralyzed by the weight of all the stuff I've had to write about, and it's just putting me further and further behind. I may expound on some of the events of the past seven days more later, but here's what I've got for now:

Hamlet arrives

Hamlet had its preview and opening, and it's going very well. We were still tweaking down to the last minute because, you know, it's freaking Hamlet. The cast is all wonderful, and Jeff and Liz in particular have taken some extremely bold choices and molded them into a unique and authentic Hamlet-Ophelia relationship. And how about Katie "Girldenstern" Ford being on the cover of Style Weekly? Stop it, Marcellus!

Great cast; I love them all. Three more weeks of Hamlet coming. [Andrew takes a breath.] Deep and slow, big guy.

New computer

This is the first blog entry I've typed on my new MacBook. I'm enjoying the heck out of it, climbing a steep learning curve, and certainly appreciating the long battery life (as I did in fact leave my charger at home). What stinks is that I had planned to get a sleeker, sexier, more powerful model, but learned to my dismay that it didn't come with a FireWire port. That's effing ridiculous. Mac is the preferred platform for digital audio and video applications, and they release a model without the high-speed port that camcorders and digital mixers all use?! Given a choice between buying up $500 or buying down $300, I descended. So my standard MacBook delights me despite my dissatisfaction with Apple. I'm still getting my Mac feet under me. And she still needs a name.

So is there a connection between switching from conservatives to Obama and PC to Mac? It seems like there should be.

RTCC Awards

What a thrill and a joy it was to be there on Sunday night! A big chunk of the Richmond Shakespeare contingent sat in the back, being the bad kids. It was quite a challenge chatting with the stupendous Sarah Cole to my left and with the lovely Liz in the row in front of me. I'm still a little sore from all the turning and twisting and leaning.

It's very relaxing to go to an awards show when you know you have absolutely no chance of winning. I truly own the experience of "It's an honor to be nominated." Two of the people I was most rooting for, Stephen Ryan and Becky Cairns, did win, and I was happier for them, I think, than I would have been for myself.

When the names were being announced for "Best Direction," Sarah jumped to her feet and screamed, "THAT'S MY DATE!" I win.

Sarah, mother of two, was wearing her prom dress. It was big on her.

Virginia Center for Architecture

I feel bad that I forgot to make a bigger deal with this, but I was a lecturer at the Virginia Center for Architecture's "Fresh" series on Tuesday night. I was asked to talk about creativity for 40 minutes. Jeez, twist my arm.

I have been working on a book about acting called The Five-Tool Player equating the five physical tools baseball players develop with five improvable tools for actors. This seemed like a good opportunity to kick-start that and begin to put a framework together.

It went very well, and was nicely received by a diverse audience of about 30. It was interesting how much they wanted to ask and talk about queer theatre issues, and where the line is between an edgy performance and selling tickets. I'm hardly an expert on these issues, but I'm pretty sure I bloviated convincingly.

What surprised me was how many audience members talked about how much of the material they could take personally, to apply to their own careers and lives. I didn't expect that, and it will definitely shape the writing of the book. You know, when I get all that free time to do that.

Phillies - Rays

If the Phils don't start getting some hits with runners in scoring position, it's going to be over in five.

December surprise?

Uh, I can't talk about that yet. But it's going to be cool.

On small characters and alternative acting choices

I started to write this post to be published on Richmond Shakespeare's blog, but the content ended up being more focused on my personal process than I had intended, and it just wasn't appropriate for a company website.

As much as Shakespeare was an innovator, he excelled at taking established conventions and mining them for every bit of storytelling he could manage. Compleat Works jokingly refers to him as a formula writer, and there is quite a bit of truth to that statement. In addition to using a few dozen of his era's best story forms, Shakespeare was a master at using character types that his audiences would have recognized: the righteous virgin (Juliet, Desdemona, Miranda, Isabella), the unrepentant villain (Iago, Richard III, Aaron), the hothead (Mercutio, Hotspur) various clowns and heroes, cousins and fathers and brothers (not so many mothers). On paper, a lot of these characters seem interchangeable, which is why it's good that Shakespeare wrote for the stage, for our stage in particular, where personal interpretation is such an integral part of the creation of performance.

The character type that draws my attention today is that of the loyal companion. We see him in the form of Benvolio in Romeo and Juliet, Kent in King Lear, Antonio in Twelfth Night, and to a certain degree in Lear's Edgar, R&J's Nurse, Othello's Cassio, and As You Like It's Adam. The loyal companion is generally male and often a contemporary of the more principal protagonist. In many cases, he seems to have no agenda of his own, existing to support the main character and to serve as a sounding-board for monologues. He is always of a lower status than the friend he follows, establishing a master-servant pattern wherein the servant performs his role out of love and filial obligation to his social superior.

This is probably the detail that we have the hardest time wrapping our heads around in the 21st century. The loyal companion loves, serves and cares for his lord simply because he is his lord. There is no consideration of getting a better gig. It is no exaggeration to say that in the order of the Elizabethan universe Antonio's loving service for the shipwrecked Sebastian is a love that can be described as holy. That can be difficult for modern audiences and theatre practitioners to access.

Which brings me to Hamlet, opening October 17, in which I play the role of Horatio, the prototypical Shakespearean loyal companion. Horatio provides information to Hamlet, tries to protect him from the Ghost, obeys his commands, and basically follows him around like a puppy dog. Only a handful of times does Horatio disagree with Hamlet, notably trying to restrain him from going off with the Ghost and apparently disapproving of the prince's actions regarding Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (spoiler alert: they die). Horatio even goes so far as to attempt to drink poison to follow Hamlet beyond the living world. Hamlet stops him, and Horatio obeys his prince's final command to tell the world his story. All in all, a role that on paper lacks a lot of conflict or contradiction. Actually, it pretty much lacks any contradiction whatsoever.

I was talking with Liz Blake, no stranger to tackling the challenge of a potentially standard role, about the character a few days after we started rehearsal. I shared the thought that a female Horatio would be very interesting, particularly if she had long-standing unrequited affections for Hamlet. This would give an actor a lot of material for both internal and external conflicts, as well as a much richer emotional and strategic palate with which to play.

"You know, Andrew," Liz smiled, "Horatio doesn't have to be a girl to do all those things."

Liz has the uncanny ability to cheerfully make me feel like a blithering idiot at least twice a week.

Well shucks, the thought of Horatio being gay just hadn't crossed my mind. And it should have; there's plenty of textual support for it. Particularly interesting is Hamlet's line, "thou art e'en as just a man as ere my conversation coped withall," in the context that "conversation" and "coped" are common Shakespearean code words for sex. There are multiple references to the two men holding each other in their hearts, and Hamlet signs a letter "He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet." In the text, Hamlet confides with one person only: Horatio, whose affection is such that he can't seem to stop calling Hamlet "my lord," "my good lord," "my dear lord," and once "my sweet lord" slips out. It is only after Hamlet has died that he can speak his own secret name for his love: "sweet prince."

In researching queer Hamlets, I've been surprised to see that this angle, a rich vein for exploration by alternative and university theatres in particular, has not been nearly as frequently explored as I expected. In fact, the Oedipal Hamlet is the much more common interpretation, one I really just can't find a stitch of textual support for.

None of this is to say that this is a "gay Hamlet." There's nothing going on between Hamlet and Horatio; Horatio is simply in love with his prince, and has been for years. It's not even a matter of Horatio having the label "gay" placed on him, it's entirely the personal focus of him being deep in unrequited love. He doesn't love men, he loves Hamlet. There are no overt references to it, it doesn't change the production's theme and staging. It's something for me to play with, and for Jeff (Hamlet) to decide whether or not he knew about. (And how could he not? If Horatio is nearly as emotionally naked as the actor playing him, there's no real hiding it.) But it changes every moment of the play for me, gives me an immediate and accessible goal. It gives me some very powerful substitutions, and juicy double-meanings in my scenes with Hamlet. It provides some unexpected conflict when Ophelia (a perfectly nice girl who obviously makes Hamlet so very happy, damn her eyes) is in the scene. It's a hearty piece of meat for the actor, and it's anything to avoid playing Horatio as what the Washington Blade referred to in a 2007 review as "Hamlet's true and trusted sidekick."

Horatio needs to transcend the loyal follower type for Hamlet to achieve its best success. After all it is Horatio, not any of the larger characters who dominates the play's opening and closing moments, setting up our first and final impressions of the story. (In their defense, all of the principals are dead for the play's denouement.) But that's all just "words, words, words." Really, I just needed an objective to sink my teeth into, something that both transcends and supports the loyal servant role Shakespeare so lovingly wrote.

Horatio is a character who is felt less in the text than in the performance; his often-silent presence in witness to Hamlet's drama speaking louder than lines. It's a lot more interesting to stand silently in the presence of the man you're in love with--who just happens to be your lord.

Hamlet runs from October 17 - November 9. Go to www.richmondshakespeare.com for tickets.

My head asplode

Today is too much sports awesomeness for me to handle..

1:05: Washington Redskins at Philadelphia Eagles.

After last week's upset over the Cowboys, arguably the biggest event of the first quarter of the NFL season, the Redskins unbelievably finish their road division schedule in week five. I was expecting a .500 year from my 'Skins this year, especially after that deuce they dropped at the Giants in week one. But after the way the O-line and D-backs have played the past three weeks, I'm almost believing they are an NFC power. Why almost, when many of America's most knowledgeable NFL pundits are penciling them into the playoffs? Because I'm a Redskins fan, and I'm quite accustomed to the heartbreak of Norv Turner and Steve Spurrier teams, not to mention the perpetual teasing almost of Gibbs II: Electric Boogaloo.

(Gibbs II, at least, made the playoffs twice in four years. And he won a playoff game, something the Redskins have done twice since Dallas last won any. Eat that, Cowboys!)

Everyone's talking about the poise of Jason Campbell (Soup!), the punch of Clinton Portis, and the playmaking of Santana Moss, and rightly so. And don't discount the contributions of O-line coach Joe Bugel, who may have finally forged some new Hogs, and defensive coordinator Greg Blanche, whose scheme made Tony Romo look like Tony Danza last week.

(I do wish the Redskins would stop wearing white-on-white, though. It works for teams who have done it for a long time like the Browns and the Chiefs, but there's championship tradition in the white jerseys and burgundy pants. At least they're not wearing dark-on-dark, a hideous look that makes NFL teams look like AFL teams. I would have liked to see the 'Skins switch to the 70th anniversary retro uniforms full-time, but if they're sticking with the classic look, I wish they would wear it in the classic combination.)

Is this finally the year we stop looking to next year? In Jim Zorn, have we finally found the Next Big Coach instead of the Big Name Who Lets Us Down? It's early, but it sure looks that way. We may have replaced The Last Joe Gibbs with The Next Joe Gibbs.

If we win in Philadelphia, I'm officially going from fan to believer.

Speaking of Philadelphia...



1:07: Philadelphia Phillies at Milwaukee Brewers.

I think the entire City of Brotherly Love's head is asplode today, actually. What do you watch, marquee rivalry football game or series-clinching baseball game?

I was really hoping the Phils would win last night. Any game programmed against the Redskins is going to lose for me. The Phightins are relegated to commercial-break status. It isn't that I don't love the Phillies, it's that I lurve the Redskins. I could give you an allegory from my life, but it would only make sense to about three people. Trust me, those three would say "Ohhhhhh, okay, I get it. Yeah, you have to watch the Redskins game, I understand."

So I'm torn between the desire to see the Phillies win the NLDS and the desire to see the 'Skins win in Philly. What do I do if both games are close in the late innings / fourth quarter? My greatest hope is for either the Phillies or Redskins to have it put away by then so I don't feel bad about the bits I miss. Or I watch a gamecast on my laptop while the other game is on TV. Or I buy another TV and set them up side-by-side, as I did in Albany when I was writing a weekly football column. That was cool.

It still hasn't been announced who's starting for Philadelphia, making sports writers' jobs very hard. All I know is that Jeff Suppan is starting for Milwaukee, and Suppan has a strong postseason record. Jobu wake up bats. Series tied 2-2 is very bad. Is very bad.

I have a feeling about Chase Utley today, and about Pedro Feliz. Hence the picture of Pedro Feliz. Move it on to the NLCS, Phils. Give the home town fans something to cheer them after the Redskins beat the Eagles 27-22.



4:15ish: Andrew Hamm at Elsinore Castle.

This is where Andrew works on his lines hardcore. He also works on music for the show. And apparently he refers to himself in the third person.



7:17: Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim at Boston Red Sox.

Beckett is pitching. At Fenway.

Nuff.

Said.



Of course, I have to watch all of this with one eye while the other is studying my lines for Hamlet. It's the Angels - Sox game that's most going to suffer. I promise I'll break away for the final three innings at least.

On a non-sports note, I worked on my lines Friday afternoon in Hollywood Cemetery. I spent a lot of time on 1.1, which features the appearance of Hamlet Sr.'s ghost. While working on that scene, a cat leapt out of the bushes, yowling, startled. Even in mid-day it scared the shit out of me. I responded by silently shouting, "Stay, illusion!" and delivering my speech to the ghost directly at a gravestone. I promised I would remember the name of the man I was addressing, but I can't recall it. It made my heart pound unexpectedly. Cemeteries are scarier to me than I thought they would be.

Working a ghost scene in a graveyard is scary, would basically be the point I'm making here.

In brief...

A bunch of small things, none of which require a full blog entry.

G minus G.

I'm pretty sure Garfield Minus Garfield isn't very funny to me any more. There are too many moments that I recognize from my own life. Poor bipolar Jon. Maybe I'll get to a point when I can laugh my fool ass off at it again, but for now it's too close to a somewhat painful home.

Arena Football.

As I type this, the Philadelphia Soul (my team now that my old team went out of business) is leading the San Jose Saber Cats 44-27 in Arena Bowl XXII. If you're a sports fan and you've never been to an Arena League game, I highly recommend it. It's high-speed, high-scoring, high-skill, rock and roll football. I was in the house when the Albany Firebirds won the Arena Bowl in 2000, and it was one of the best sports experiences of my life. As a bonus, the Arena Bowl is in New Orleans this year.

Now it's 46-27. The Soul have "PHL" in big letters on the fronts of their jerseys.

The Dark Knight.

Overall, Dark Knight is magnificent. Go see it; it's an Iron Man / Spider-Man 2 / X-Men 2 level superhero movie. Heath Ledger is more amazing than you've heard he is.

No big spoilers here, but I had a couple significant beefs with the film. 1) There was no effort whatsoever to make Gotham not look like Chicago. Too many exteriors of the city features wide-open boulevards in a city that had been clearly designed in the previous film as cramped and claustrophobic--you know, like Gotham City. 2) The movie is about 20 minutes too long, in my humble opinion. In retrospect, the subplot with the Asian gangster ended up having much less of an impact on the story than it looked like it was going to, and could have been seriously compressed. Something needed to go; my attention was getting tired in the final act, and a good screenplay trim would have taken care of it.

Hellboy 2: The Golden Army.

This is a love it or hate it movie. I loved it. It looks like all of the cool stuff from Pan's Labyrinth all the time. The first time I saw it I thought the story was thin; the second time I changed my mind. The story isn't thin, the visuals are so dominating that everything else is thin by comparison. Even if you hate the story and the characters, it's just beautiful to watch, and the most delightfully imaginative movie I've seen since The Fellowship of the Ring.

Getting my first manicure and pedicure

was awesome. I will do it again. I probably won't get color on my toenails again unless I go with James Bond.

I would kill James Bond

for his place in Hell's Kitchen. Kill him dead.

James Ricks

came to see Henry IV, Part 2 last night. I was surprised by how thrilled I was to see him. You go, James Ricks. You are awesome. I hope my Hamlet cast and his Richard III cast can find a way to hang together. With those two scripts, we're going to need to lighten things up after rehearsal. It's going to be a great fall for Shakespearean tragedy in Richmond.

Wall-e

I can't believe I still haven't seen it. Liz is going to kick my ass.

Style Weekly: "As You Like It" is "charming, funny, unique, and unexpected"

From Style Weekly online:

The Dance Number Big Willie Didn’t See Coming

Even after a quarter century, Richmond Shakespeare keeps us guessing. Even if we already know who’s really a lady and who’s not.
by Katy Johnstone
“As You Like It,” Richmond Shakespeare’s most recent undertaking, is also its oldest.

Eleven years ago, the fledgling company cut into this play, already 400 years old, and have been fine-tuning it ever since. The play, one of Shakespeare’s most frequently performed comedies, has all of the ingredients of a great production: girls masquerading as boys, love triangles (and pentagons, quadrangles and other assorted geometric shapes), an abundance of physical comedy and witty dialogue.

And typical of Richmond Shakespeare’s unwillingness to present the conventional play, directors Andrew Hamm and Julie Phillips (who refer to themselves as the Masters of Play and of Verse, respectively) incorporate thoroughly modern bits into the works, anachronisms dating back as far back as May 2007. Here the cross-dressing comedy includes a large song-and-dance number near the end in which the cast bursts into an impromptu rendition of the “Soulja Boy” dance.

The actors, for the most part, handle their characters beautifully. Sunny LaRose’s Rosalind is strong and endearing, and works well with the love-struck fervor of Orlando (Patrick Bromley). She also has great chemistry with Julia Rigby, who plays her cousin Celia; their scenes are filled with girlish glee and are enjoyable to watch. And as in most of Shakespeare’s plays, the court clown delivers many of the best lines; Adam Mincks’ brilliantly funny Touchstone is definitely up to the job.

But it’s Liz Blake who steals the show. Her role as Amiens in the play’s first half allows her to show off her lovely, lilting singing voice -- this is only topped by her portrayal of the crass shepherdess Phebe, who falls madly in love with the cross-dressing Rosalind, in the second half.

The production is not flawless, though. With the exception of the wrestling scene near the opening, the first half becomes dry whenever Rosalind or Touchstone is not onstage. And while the production’s several musical numbers work well for Blake, LaRose and Bromley each struggle during their few sung lines.

But “As You Like It” is a charming, funny production that bears the unique, often unexpected flavor that Richmond Shakespeare has spent 23 years stewing.

Times-Dispatch: "You'll Like It"

From the Richmond Times-Dispatch:

The Shakespeare play at Agecroft--you'll like it

BY SUSAN HAUBENSTOCK
SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT

Midsummer may be nearing, but the peak of the summer theater season at Agecroft Hall has just arrived.

In the lovely Tudor courtyard, Richmond Shakespeare Festival's reprise of "As You Like It" is a laugh-filled, updated take on the Bard's comedy.

It's a reprise in two ways: The company opened with this play 11 years ago, and it did a rollicking five-actor version this past spring. Those five actors have returned in this production, along with director Andrew Hamm. Nine additional merrymakers join them to create a show that is full of contemporary style and plays hard for every laugh.

Yet with all the liberties taken, Master of Verse Julie Phillips keeps a steady hand on the language, which she tunes to a lovely, understandable vernacular that loses none of its poetry.

Hamm, for his part, contributes pleasant musical accompaniment, plays the two-line role of Hymen, and infuses the proceedings with all the subtlety of a Judd Apatow film. There's a strong physical component, whether comedy or combat (or spitting), and an especially clever use of upstage plays-within-the-play that enact some of the major speeches while they are delivered.

The story has two pairs of embittered brothers, one pair of faithful cousins, a clown, a melancholy thinker, a wrestler, servants and shepherds, and a trip through the Forest of Arden, where lovers find each other and things come to a happy end.

In lovely Rebecca Cairns costumes, and with well-designed lighting by James David White (who illuminates the outdoor space with seeming effortlessness), the simple set is enriched by humans playing trees, and the cast is augmented by stuffed animals. (It was hard to ignore the lively chipmunk in one of the trees.)

All the performances are delightful, although Adam Minks' Le Beau could have been reined in a tad -- but his Touchstone is hilarious and just this side of outrageous.

Sunny LaRose is the gender-switching Rosalind and Patrick Bromley her adoring Orlando; they are both a treat to watch, as is Julia Rigby as Rosalind's loyal cousin Celia.

Danny Devlin is an engaging Oliver, Orlando's cruel older brother, and Jeffry Clevenger is endearing as the old servant Adam and amusing as the shepherd Corin. Michael Dunn and Dan Summey make regal dukes, and Liz Blake is riotous as the adoring shepherdess Phebe. In smaller roles, Jay Banks and Jennifer Vick make pleasing debuts, and Jake Allard steals focus and hearts as the lovesick shepherd Silvius.

Frank Creasy gives the most impressive performance in two roles. As Charles the wrestler, he goes all-out physically, with pro-wrestling costume and attitude; and as Jacques, the melancholy courtier, he goes all-out emotionally, describing the seven phases of life and musing that "all the world's a stage." If the world were indeed a stage, I would be pleased to see Creasy on it.

"As You Like It 2: Like Harder!" Opens

Last night saw the first preview performance of the Richmond Shakespeare Festival's As You Like It. The show previews again tonight (Thursday) at 8:00, then opens officially on Saturday. It's an abbreviated run; just two previews and six performances, closing July 13, so don't miss it.

It's been a unique challenge and opportunity for Master of Verse Julie Phillips and I to restage a very successful production. Questions abounded: How many moments from the spring production do we duplicate? Do we change things just for the sake of changing them? What different perspective would Julie bring to a show that I had already seen through a complete production process and run? And how would the addition of nine new actors change what the play looks like and what it's about?

Well, Julie and I working together is never a problem. We co-directed Doctor Faustus in winter 2007, and had a long-standing mutual admiration society established before then. Julie has great ideas that I would never have thought of; she is the perfect example of how the two-headed directing process can work. Where I see physical choices, she sees verbal, and where I think something is funny that no one else ever possibly could, she reins me in. It's a great partnership; I never have more fun on the directing side of the table as when I'm working with Julie. And the new actors are a special bunch, five seasoned veterans and four apprentices to create the unforgettable characters which give As You Like It its texture and charm.

All five original actors have returned: Sunny LaRose's Rosalind, Patrick Bromley's Orlando, Julia Rigby's Celia, Frank Creasy's Jaques and Charles, and Adam Mincks's Touchstone and LeBeau all have a chance to live again, and to breathe a little more deeply now that the actors don't have to play all the other characters as well. The new actors have freely reinterpreted their roles: Dan Summey and Michael Dunn as the good and evil dukes, Liz Blake and Jake Allard as Phebe and Silvius, Jay Banks and Jennifer Vick as William and Audrey, Danny Devlin as Oliver and Sir Oliver Mar-Text, Cabell Neterer as Dennis, and Jeffry Clevenger as Adam and Corin all bring very different stuff to the table.

We've also added to the music. Jake Allard on drums and Todd Borden on bass round out the new Festival trio: Liz Blake and the Caliband. The play begins at 8:00, but the show starts at 7:30 with a preshow mini-concert and impromptu love poetry by Pat, Danny, and Adam.

Lighting designer J. David White has done a wonderful job establishing the beautiful dappled light of the forest of Arden, and Becky Cairns' and Annie Hoskins' costumes are a wonderful expansion of the already-gorgeous palate from spring. The trees are a personal favorite. Will Hankins and Agecroft's Richard Moxley have built some wonderful two-sided benches to delineate city from country. There are even a couple treats for Star Trek fans in there, as well.

What could be more charming than Shakespeare's most romantic play after a picnic on the grounds of Agecroft Hall? If you saw the show in April, you owe it to yourself to come out to the Richmond Shakespeare Festival for what we've been calling As You Like It 2: Like Harder!

Richmond Shakespeare's Summer Intensive

"Clown Intensive "
with Matthew Ellis
June 16 - 20, 2008, 6:00-9:30 PM
$250

To accommodate the many parties who have expressed interest in this class but who could not make the daytime hours, we have moved the Clown Intensive into evenings. If you wanted to take this class but could not do it before, now is your chance!

Matthew Ellis, Professor of Movement at the University of Oklahoma and director of this summer's Richmond Shakespeare Festival production of The Compleat Works of Wllm Shkspr (Abridged), will teach a five day Clowning Intensive for Richmond Shakespeare's Training Department.

Matt says: “The clown is not just a circus performer or a birthday party attraction. The clown is the part of us that lives in a simpler place. Our inner clown is rife with problems to solve, and he or she solves those problems in a variety of ‘creative’ ways.”

The classes will focus on the discovery of that inner clown through a process developed by world renowned teacher Jacques LeCoq, taught to Matthew by the world famous clown Avner Eisenberg and master teacher Jonathan Becker. “You won’t learn how to ride a unicycle or how to walk in big shoes. This is an acting class that develops strong awareness and a powerful presence on stage. This work will improve all aspects of your performance, not just the slapstick comedy.” The workshop will consist of technique training and sketch development, culminating in a short show for the public on the final day.

The class is open to actors of advanced high school age and up. Participants should, as always, bring a bottle of water, a lunch, and be prepared to move. Some scholarships are available for interested participants with financial needs, and actors who have worked with Richmond Shakespeare in he past year are eligible for discounted tuition.

Email Andrew@richmondshakespeare.com or call him at 804-232-4000 for more information or to make a reservation.

Check out some images from Matthew's previous clown classes at the University of Oklahoma: