Category: Theater
Indhu Rubasingham chosen as National Theatre’s next director | National Theatre
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Indhu Rubasingham has been announced as the next director of the National Theatre, marking the first time that a woman and a person of colour has taken on the biggest role in British theatre.
Rubasingham, who has been artistic director of the Kiln theatre since 2012, will take over from Rufus Norris in spring 2025, when his second term ends. She and Kate Varah will also become joint chief executives in a co-leadership model.
During her tenure at the Kiln in north London, Rubasingham collaborated with Zadie Smith on White Teeth and The Wife of Willesden, which transferred to Brooklyn Academy of Music in New York earlier this year.
She directed Ayad Akhtar’s play The Invisible Hand, which was twice nominated for an Olivier award.
Rubasingham takes over an institution that, in the words of Michael Billington, cannot go back to being “an exclusively white enclave on either side of the footlights”.
Before Norris, five other white men had held the role of director at the National Theatre: Peter Hall, Richard Eyre, Trevor Nunn, Nicholas Hytner and Laurence Olivier, who was the founding director appointed in 1962.
There had been doubts over whether the theatre would continue Norris’s project of opening up the venue to new audiences and daring to be different, or whether it would opt for a safe pair of hands at a time when theatres are struggling financially.
But Rubasingham, 53, who was the favourite to take over, was described by the Guardian’s chief theatre critic Arifa Akbar as having “the flair, leadership and creativity for the job and the confidence to take the NT to new places”.
Born in Sheffield and of Sri Lankan heritage, Rubasingham studied drama at Hull University and went on to hold positions at the Gate theatre, Birmingham Rep and Young Vic. In 2017, she was awarded an MBE for services to theatre in the new year honours list.
Under her leadership at the Kiln, new writing became a mainstay of the theatre’s mission. As the first woman of colour to run a big London theatre, she oversaw a major £9m capital campaign, reopening what was the former Tricycle theatre with a new building and name in 2018.
She has also previously worked at the National Theatre in all three South Bank auditoriums, directing productions including The Waiting Room, The Ramayana, The Motherf**ker With the Hat, The Great Wave, Ugly Lies the Bone, Kerry Jackson and most recently the critically acclaimed production of Anupama Chandrasekhar’s The Father and the Assassin which returned to the Olivier theatre earlier this year.
Rubasingham said it was “a huge honour” to be appointed to “the best job in the world”.
She added: “The National has played an important part in my life – from tentative steps as a teenage theatregoer, to later as a theatre-maker, and to have the opportunity to play a role in its history is an incredible privilege and responsibility.
“Theatre has a transformative power – the ability to bring people together through shared experience and storytelling, and nowhere more so than the National.
“I’ve been fortunate to have directed on the National Theatre’s stages and to have witnessed first-hand the commitment, collaboration, brilliance and pride of those who bring the magic to the building, both on stage and off.
“There’s nowhere like it, and it will be a joy to be a part of this iconic building’s next chapter, leading the company alongside Kate [Varah].”
She said she was “thrilled” to be following in the footsteps of Norris and looked forward to working closely with him to plan her first season.
During Norris’s 10-year tenure, he brought a bold vision that had already seen him win awards for overseeing productions of Festen and David Rudkin’s Afore Night Come as a young director.
In 2017, he was criticised for his focus on new, forward-facing work at the expense at established classics. But that approach was vindicated when the work he chose – Tony Kushner’s Angels in America (1991) and Stephen Sondheim’s Follies (1971) – went on to commercial success with Tony award wins and Broadway transfers.
Norris’s penchant for new writers meant he could give platforms to diverse talent, championing female playwrights (Annie Baker, Lucy Kirkwood, Yaël Farber and Nina Raine) and people of colour (Inua Ellams, Clint Dyer, Roy Williams), something that was a theme throughout his time as artistic director.
Norris said Rubasingham’s experience would be invaluable at the National Theatre.
“Together with Kate and the brilliant, dedicated team here, I know that the National will continue to thrive and remain at the heart of British cultural life,” he said.
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Britain’s Friendliest Bear to Hit the Stage in ‘Paddington: The Musical’
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Paddington, the well-traveled bear known for his floppy red hat and love for orange marmalade sandwiches, is taking on yet another venture in 2025: the theater.
A stage musical about the friendly bear is in development and is set to open in Britain in 2025, the show’s producers announced on Tuesday. It will be adapted from the book series that made him famous, as well as the two live-action films, “Paddington” and “Paddington 2.”
The working title is “Paddington: The Musical,” and it “is currently undergoing a period of development and workshops,” according to a news release.
Paddington was first introduced in a book series by Michael Bond that follows the good-natured bear who emigrates from Peru to England and is taken in by the Brown family. Paddington is sweet, curious and prone to mishaps.
The first book in the series, “A Bear Called Paddington,” was published in October 1958. More than 35 million copies of Paddington books have been sold worldwide.
The live-action feature films, with Ben Whishaw as the voice of Paddington, premiered in Britain in 2014 and 2017. The first film depicts Paddington’s arrival in London and the early stages of his relationship with the Brown family. In the second film, Paddington attempts to get his Aunt Lucy a gift and ends up in prison, where, eventually, there is music, cake and dancing.
A third film, “Paddington in Peru,” is set to be released in Britain on Nov. 8, 2024. Its U.S. release date is Jan. 17, 2025.
The stage show’s music and lyrics will be written by Tom Fletcher, a founding member of the popular British band McFly and a well-known children’s author. The musical’s book will be by Jessica Swale, whose play “Nell Gwynn” won an Olivier Award for best new comedy in 2016.
The musical’s director will be Luke Sheppard, who has worked on “Just for One Day,” “What’s New Pussycat?” and “Rent.”
The musical is being produced by Sonia Friedman Productions, Studiocanal and Eliza Lumley Productions on behalf of Universal Music UK. The producers did not provide details on the plot and said the cast would be announced later.
“The magic of Paddington is that, through his wide-eyed innocence, he sees the very best in humanity,” Ms. Friedman and Ms. Lumley said in a joint statement, “reminding us that love and kindness can triumph if we open our hearts and minds to one another.”
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After Vegans Protest, A British Panto Removes A Song
So, vegans are “annoying, anemic, and gassy”? That was what Cheltenham’s Everyman Theatre claimed in one of its Mother Goose songs. – BBC
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24 Things That Stuck With Us in 2023
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At the Frick, where Barkley Hendricks’s shimmering ’70s portraits are hanging, posthumously, in the museum’s first solo show by a Black artist, I kept thinking about that Langston Hughes poem: What does happen to a dream deferred? Hendricks didn’t live to see his subjects, with their plentiful Afros and bell-bottom cool, leaping, communing, strolling across the walls of an institution he frequented. But after quietly railing at the omission, I realized the exhibition is actually about Hendricks taking his rightful place — a kind of insistence that a dream, rather than fossilizing, can go on forever. REBECCA THOMAS
Theater
‘The Engagement Party’
Given the heaviness of the current news cycle, I was grateful for the respite of Samuel Baum’s confection of a play, “The Engagement Party” at the Geffen Playhouse. With sharp writing, a first-rate cast and elegant scenery, who says theater isn’t alive and well in Los Angeles? ROBIN POGREBIN
Rap Albums
‘Michael’ by Killer Mike
It’s dangerous for an artist to invite André 3000 for a feature, such are his prodigious talent and penchant for outshining anyone on a track. Killer Mike stays with André 3000 on “Scientists & Engineers” and, dare I say, even delivers the better verse, a standout on his well-balanced album, “Michael.” JONATHAN ABRAMS
Contemporary Art
Ragnar Kjartansson at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art
Before a trip to Scandinavia, I heard from several people that the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, north of Copenhagen, was their favorite museum in the world. After five hours on the grounds, I understood why. Beyond a robust children’s area and the meditative sculpture gardens, I was transfixed by an exhibition on the Icelandic artist Ragnar Kjartansson, who uses repetition to examine human emotions, motives and desires. JASON M. BAILEY
Hip-Hop Reunions
The DA.I.S.Y. Experience at Webster Hall
De La Soul’s pioneering rap peers, including KRS-One, Chuck D, DJ Red Alert, Q-Tip, Common and Queen Latifah, all showed up at Webster Hall in March to buoy the remaining members of the group, Maseo and Posdnuos, as they celebrated the long-awaited streaming release of their catalog, just weeks after the death of Trugoy the Dove. Part catalog retrospective, part homegoing celebration, the night was a warm act of community crystallized, for me, in a single gesture: Late in the night, as Posdnuos rapped onstage, a grinning Busta Rhymes clasped him from behind in a hug I haven’t forgotten since. ELENA BERGERON
TV
‘Fellow Travelers’
“Fellow Travelers” bounces between the perils of McCarthy era Washington and the advent of AIDS in the 1980s, examining the country through the lens of the relationship between a finely chiseled, roguish diplomat and the naïve, morally tortured younger man who loves him over three decades. Created by Ron Nyswaner and based on a novel by Thomas Mallon (the book makes a perfect companion piece to the show), it is a political thriller/sizzling romance/slice of history worth waiting up for to catch each new episode as it drops. HELEN T. VERONGOS
Folk Albums
‘The Greater Wings’ by Julie Byrne
Julie Byrne’s third album is earthy and otherworldly at once; a mournful, healing dispatch from somewhere between heaven and the dew-glazed grass around a freshly dug grave. “I want to be whole enough to risk again,” she sings, as synthesizer tones and harp strings melt behind her. GABE COHN
No one can say “Barbie” was overlooked in 2023, but was it really among the best? Absolutely. It featured a sharp script, even sharper performances, at least three great songs as well as a brilliantly directed showstopping dance sequence. And in a dumpster fire of a year, it brought joy back to the multiplex. STEPHANIE GOODMAN
Theater
‘Stereophonic’
David Adjmi’s play, set almost entirely in a Northern California recording studio in 1976, follows a Fleetwood Mac-inspired band as they lay down tracks for a new album. Sexy, savage and sneakily heartbreaking, it explores the intricacies of communal creation and the sacrifices that art demands and invites. ALEXIS SOLOSKI
Streaming K-Drama
‘Queenmaker’
This South Korean Netflix drama follows Hwang Do-hee (Kim Hee-ae), a former fixer for a corrupt family conglomerate in Seoul who decides to put her might behind the mayoral campaign of a frazzled human-rights lawyer, Oh Kyung-sook (Moon So-ri). Netflix has been investing in K-dramas for a reason. “Queenmaker” presents some delicious commentary on class and entitlement at a time of increasingly visible economic inequality in Korea and in the United States. KATHLEEN MASSARA
Nonfiction
‘Status and Culture’
I finished W. David Marx’s book “Status and Culture” early in the year, and afterward its point of view about taste and trend cycles felt like it applied to — well, just about everything. If you’re interested in why people (including you!) like the things they like, and why culture in the internet age feels stuck in place, read this. DAVID RENARD
Animated Film
‘The Boy and the Heron’
We’re lucky to be alive in a time when Hayao Miyazaki is still making hand-drawn animated films. With “The Boy and the Heron,” we have the privilege of following him into another dream world, and there are scenes and sequences so achingly gorgeous they brought me up short. BARBARA CHAI
Experimental Theater
‘ha ha ha ha ha ha ha’
At this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe, I saw, at 1:30 in the morning, a clown called Julia Masli try to solve her audience’s problems — everything from feeling too hot to being a hypochondriac. It was madcap, but by the show’s euphoric finish, involving a heartbroken audience member being forced to crowd surf to boost their mood, I’d started thinking Masli was better than any therapist and most other comedians. ALEX MARSHALL
Seconds after the Opera Ends
‘Dead Man Walking’
I still remember the silence during the final moments of the Metropolitan Opera’s production of “Dead Man Walking.” To be in such a huge space with so many people, in utter silence — thinking back, I was relieved no one’s phone had rung. LAURA O’NEILL
Horror-Comedy
‘M3gan’
I’m a sucker for art that reflects my greatest fears — bonus points if doused in satire — maybe because it’s evidence that my anxieties aren’t mine alone or maybe because there’s no better way to exorcise dread than to discuss it. Top of my list is the prospect of humanity being conquered by robots (hence my fixation on, say, the “Terminator” movies and “2001: A Space Odyssey”), and in 2023, artificial intelligence seemed to go from peripheral conversations about a future menace to an imminent threat that industry leaders warned may pose a “risk of extinction.” Enter “M3gan,” about a TikTok-dancing, baby-sitting cyborg that managed to be both extraordinary camp and chilling cautionary tale about what could happen when we outsource human emotional care to humanoids who can’t exactly care at all. MAYA SALAM
Broadway Revivals
‘Parade’
Jason Robert Brown’s “The Last Five Years” is one of my favorite shows, so when I saw his musical “Parade” was returning to Broadway, I knew I had to see it. I didn’t know much about it going in, but I was eager to hear Brown’s wonderfully rhythmic piano phrases live. What I didn’t bank on was a gripping story from the past whose themes still resonate. Micaela Diamond’s powerful singing of “You Don’t Know This Man” was unforgettable — the tragedy with which she imbued every note gave me chills. JENNIFER LEDBURY
A.I.’s depiction in culture this year was almost universally sinister: stealing jobs, spreading misinformation, antagonizing Ethan Hunt. It seems like bad news for humanity, except in one very particular application — generating cover versions of songs sung by cartoon characters. The breakout star of this genre was Plankton from “SpongeBob SquarePants.” He crushes “Even Flow,” he nails “Wake Me Up When September Ends,” but he really shines on “Born to Run.” You’re laughing during the first verse, but by the time he tells Wendy he’ll love her with all the madness in his soul, you really believe. DAVID MALITZ
Old-School Sci Fi
‘2001: A Space Odyssey’
In August, I saw “2001: A Space Odyssey,” for just the second time, in 70-millimeter projection at the Museum of the Moving Image in Queens. Afterward, I texted a friend: “Is it just the greatest movie ever made?” MARC TRACY
Magic
‘Asi Wind’s Inner Circle’
My job as the theater reporter comes with an occupational hazard: Everyone I meet asks me what show they (or their mother-in-law, or their neighbor, or some random co-worker) should go see. And throughout this year, my answer has been Asi Wind, a smooth-talking Israeli American magician who has been holed up in a Greenwich Village church gymnasium, astonishing audiences with close-up card trickery and mind-blowing mind reading. His run at the Gym at Judson is to end in mid-January after 444 performances; catch it if you can. MICHAEL PAULSON
Podcasts
‘The Diary of a CEO’
It is not an exaggeration to say that the “Diary of a CEO” podcast has changed my life this year. The host Steven Bartlett poses engaging questions to some of the world’s finest thought leaders, with answers that can truly transform the way you think and the way you take action; all for free, with invaluable results. MEKADO MURPHY
Indie Albums
‘The Record’ by boygenius
The boygenius album “The Record,” the full-length debut of the indie supergroup, landed, for me, like a geyser in a parched landscape. Phoebe Bridgers, Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus were all singular talents whom I’d loved individually, but the way they rode their vocal harmonies through discord, on lyrics and guitar, lashed with humor and vulnerability — I couldn’t get enough. “I want to you to hear my story,” they sing, “and be a part of it.” Ladies, you got it. MELENA RYZIK
One TV Episode
‘Long, Long Time’ From ‘The Last of Us’
How did a zombie show based on a video game bring me to tears? Episode 3 of HBO’s “The Last of Us” reveals how love can survive and even thrive in the worst of times. The show’s sudden detour away from the violence and infected masses to focus on the life that Bill and Frank have built together is a poignant reminder of what really matters. ROBIN KAWAKAMI
`Theater
‘Sad Boys in Harpy Land’
In this brilliant, semi-autobiographical solo performance, Alexandra Tatarsky plays “a young Jewish woman who thinks she is a small German boy who thinks he is a tree.” “Sad Boys in Harpy Land” is a demented clown show/unhinged cabaret/deranged improv, but also a fearless exploration of self-loathing that will stick with me for a very. Long. Time. TALA SAFIE
Film
‘Past Lives’
The closing scene of “Past Lives” is really just two people, standing on the street, waiting for a cab, in silence. But the two people have a long, intertwined history, the cab is coming to whisk one of them away and it is hard to imagine a heavier silence. The goodbye breaks Greta Lee’s character, sums up this subtle, deeply affecting film and has stayed with me all year. MATT STEVENS
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Torrington theater to host 'Ancient Aliens' event in 2024 – Torrington Register Citizen
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Torrington theater to host 'Ancient Aliens' event in 2024 Torrington Register Citizen
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The Drag Queens Fighting Performance Bans in Texas
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In 2020, it seemed that the biggest threat to drag shows in Texas was the pandemic. When venues shut down and drag brunches were cancelled, some performers got resourceful. An Austin woman named Kerry Lynn launched Extragrams, a drag-queen telegram service: Kerry Lynn would show up at your house with a boom box and a queen in a glittery costume, and you’d get a brief, socially distanced drag show in your driveway, a little sparkle to liven up the long pandemic days.
One of Extragrams’ performers was Brigitte Bandit, an Austin native who often performs as Dolly Parton—huge hair, heavy eyeliner, ostentatious cleavage. “It’s wild to think about how we would just perform in people’s front yards,” Bandit told me recently. That kind of lighthearted public exuberance has become unthinkable in the past two years, as drag has become a culture-war flash point, and half a dozen states, including Texas, have passed anti-drag legislation. Now when Bandit is hired to perform an Extragram, she makes sure to do it somewhere more private—in a fenced-off back yard, say, or in a living room. “Just walking from my car to the gig, let alone doing a whole performance in someone’s driveway—we don’t even feel safe doing that,” she said.
Earlier this year, Bandit became one of five plaintiffs in a lawsuit that challenged Texas Senate Bill 12, which criminalized some drag performances if they occurred in the presence of minors. Her critiques of the legislation have repeatedly gone viral, making her a notable figure in the Austin drag scene. Her prominence has been questioned, because, unlike most people who perform as drag queens, she was born female. (Bandit is nonbinary and uses both they/them and she/her pronouns.)
Bandit grew up with the idea that femininity meant fashion, spangles, performance. The first concert she saw was Cher; the second was Parton. When Bandit was a child, her mother worked as a stripper. She had breast implants and wore elaborate costumes that she made by hand. “She was very, I guess, you know, gendered,” Bandit said. “She would put on these big production numbers with a lot of impersonations. Cher was a big one for her. She was basically doing drag in the strip clubs.” One day, Bandit’s mother saw an advertisement for a Cher-impersonation contest at a gay bar in Austin. “At first, people were, like, ‘This woman can’t enter the contest!’ ” Bandit said. Ultimately, her mother was allowed to compete, and won second place.
Bandit has always dressed flamboyantly and in bright colors; she was intrigued by the idea of performing in drag but assumed that it was off-limits to her. Then someone sent her a video of Sin Wai Kin, a drag queen who is a cisgendered woman. “I started crying,” Bandit said. “It was like a revelation to me.” Some people saw Bandit as an interloper in a space that is a haven for queer men and trans women. (“I have more drag in my pinkie finger than you’ll ever have in your whole life,” a fellow-queen told her.) Other performers were more welcoming. It helped that, though drag in other Texas cities was dominated by the pageant community, Austin’s scene was more expansive and experimental. “You don’t have to just be in rhinestones with big hair,” Tension, a longtime Austin performer, told me. “There are drag kings. There are burlesque-style performers and comedy shows and all-Black shows. There’s just such a wide variety.”
The outpouring of vitriol that began a year and a half ago caught the drag community by surprise. “It felt like day and night,” Tension said. “There was a lot online, but when it started happening in real life is when it started to get real.” A man named Tayler Hansen began attending drag shows in the Austin area, filming performances and posting clips online. He parlayed his viral clips into an appearance on Tucker Carlson’s Fox News program. “There are no dads there ninety-nine per cent of the time,” Hansen told Carlson. “A lot of the time, the people that bring these kids to these shows are single mothers who happen to be obese. I don’t know if there’s a pattern there or what.” Posts by anti-drag activists were sometimes doctored in misleading ways, including one that spliced together images of children at an all-ages drag show with footage from a raunchier adults-only event.
Spurred on by conservative media, the drag backlash spread with disorienting speed. Bars and restaurants that had hosted drag events for years were suddenly inundated with threats. Some venues cancelled performances; others increased security. “We’ve had people stand outside the show and yell homophobic slurs,” Richard Montez, who hosts drag events at Tomatillos, his family’s restaurant and bar in suburban San Antonio, said. “We’ve had people record our entertainers. There was a group of people who called the police while our show was happening. They kept saying, ‘This is illegal.’ We knew better—we’d been following the laws, we knew nothing had passed yet. But they were just convinced that the police would shut us down.” In June, an anti-drag group posted the legal names and home towns of numerous Texas drag queens, including Bandit, identifying them as “groomers” and accusing them of “advocating for the sexualization of children.”
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‘Manahatta’ Review: Tracing the Blood-Soaked Roots of American Capitalism
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Acknowledgments that New York was once home to the Lenape people have become a familiar refrain at arts venues. In “Manahatta,” the playwright Mary Kathryn Nagle undertakes a vital investigation of that willfully forgotten history so often rendered in shorthand. Now open at the Public Theater, just a few subway stops away from Wall Street, Nagle’s play traces the origins of American finance and the follies of its bottomless appetite for capital to the exploitation of the Lenape by the city’s Dutch settlers.
The Lenape people have been so forcefully expelled from their Northeastern homelands that the descendants Nagle depicts, beginning in 2002, live in what is now Oklahoma. Jane (Elizabeth Frances), an MIT and Stanford graduate, is interviewing for an entry-level Wall Street job when her father dies on an operating table. By the time she returns home, her sister Debra (Rainbow Dickerson) and their mother Bobbie (a delightfully dry Sheila Tousey) are preparing for his funeral, and Bobbie is stuck with medical bills because the Indian Health Service, a government agency responsible for providing health services to Native peoples, has refused payment.
Intercut with this family drama are fable-like scenes set in 17th-century Manahatta, where West India Company traders barter with the Lenape for furs coveted by the women they left behind in the Old World. The ensemble of seven actors appear in both timelines, including Enrico Nassi, who plays Luke, Jane’s childhood friend and would-be sweetheart, and Se-ket-tu-may-qua, an emissary who communicates with the Dutch and teaches Le-le-wa’-you, a Lenape woman also played by Frances, to speak their foreign tongue. Back in Manhattan, Jane is learning the sort of blustery talk necessary to chart her climb through the corporate ranks.
First developed at the Public in 2014, when Nagle was a member of its Emerging Writers Group, “Manahatta” premiered at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in 2018. Its purview is promising and ambitious: In addition to the blood-soaked roots of American capitalism, Nagle addresses the erasure of Native languages through forced assimilation, and the irrevocable impacts of Western violence, religion and consumer currency on Native culture.
But the concept of homeownership, in the modern sense of subprime mortgages and the more ancient one of who can lay claims to land, forms the strongest throughline: The Dutch dupe a Lenape elder, played by Tousey, into selling them Manahatta for a song, while Michael (David Kelly), who is both the local pastor and a banker, helps Bobbie take out a loan against her house. Jane, though not without her misgivings, is meanwhile helping to manufacture the 2008 financial crisis, by selling mortgage-backed securities — it turns out she works for Lehman Brothers.
Directed by Laurie Woolery, the production shifts seamlessly between the alternating time periods and locales, on a wilderness-meets-boardroom set by Marcelo Martínez García, and with particular help from Lux Haac’s costumes, whose fusion of fabrics and styles (a pinstripe pilgrim silhouette, for example) accomplish an impressive narrative arc on their own.
The play draws direct, and at times reductive, parallels between the past and recent present. Jane’s bigwig bosses, played by Joe Tapper and Jeffrey King, are flat, greedy villains, figured as heirs to the deceptive, and ultimately murderous, founders of the market system (Tapper’s Dutch trader, at least, demonstrates some measure of humanity). But the white bad guys’ lack of complexity, though a missed opportunity, isn’t the most pressing problem.
The Native characters, too, are almost exclusively products of circumstance, reacting to the systems that oppress them rather than approaching life with innate motivations. That defensive posture is understandable in the colonial context, but when Jane is asked why she wants to work on Wall Street, her only answer is because she has overcome obstacles to get there. Jane’s professional trajectory is rather one piece of Nagle’s grand design, which feels undersynthesized throughout much of the show’s 105-minute running time until it reaches a too-obvious conclusion.
Even if this corrective account does not feel convincingly yoked to the drama onstage, an urgent significance to the facts is laid out in “Manahatta.” Nagle notes in the script that the play is a work of fiction, though it’s based on real events and was written in consultation with Lenape elders, whose ancestors are often evoked before curtains rise on New York stages. We would all do well to remember what they have lost.
Manahatta
Through Dec. 23 at the Public Theater, Manhattan; publictheater.org. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes.
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I May Be Autistic, But I’m Not A Bad Actor, No Matter What Sia Says
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This week, Sia released the trailer for her new film, “Music,” about a nonverbal autistic woman played by the nondisabled Maddie Ziegler. This is nothing new. We know that 95% of the dismally few disabled roles that exist are currently played by nondisabled actors despite the fact that 20% of the population is disabled and 1 out of 54 people are autistic.
So, if this is the norm, why is it such a big problem?
First, let’s look at Sia’s response to the autistic community, and then let’s look at the real-world difference that authentic representation makes in employment.
Sia responded on Twitter to several of the professional autistic actresses who dared tweet to her that neither they nor any of the professional autistic actresses they knew had been auditioned for the role, writing to one of them, “Well maybe you’re just a bad actor.”
I know how this feels. I was the first autistic actor to play the autistic character Christopher Boone in the Tony Award-winning play “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.” This also made me one of the first autistic actors to play any autistic role ever professionally, as the roles in “Rain Man,” “I Am Sam,” “Atypical,” and all the way to “The Good Doctor” have been played by nonautistic actors.
When I was advocating for autistic actors to be auditioned for the role of Christopher, I was told many times that it would not be possible for an autistic actor like myself to play him. That it was a “big show” with “big words.” That it was a hard role. I was also told many times that the reason no autistic actors had been cast in the role was simply because there were no talented autistic actors. This is a lie. This is a myth. And it is damaging.
I am a talented autistic actor who has been told to my face the exact same words that Sia tweeted to the autistic community. And I am not alone. There are so many incredibly talented autistic actors. But why take my word for it? After being cast in “Curious Incident,” the same people who told me that it couldn’t, or even shouldn’t, be done changed their minds.
When I played the leading role in “Curious Incident,” The New York Times said, “Mr. Rowe plays Christopher with an agile grace, an impish humor and a humanizing restraint. On Broadway, where the play was a Tony Award-winning hit, it ran eight times a week, with two actors alternating the demanding role of Christopher, a 15-year-old with autism who sets out to solve a mystery. Mr. Rowe — thought to be the first openly autistic actor to play the role — does all nine shows a week.”
“My job as an autistic is to make you believe that I am coming up with words on the spot, that this is spontaneous, the first time the conversation has ever happened in my life; this is also my job onstage as an actor.”
When I got to play the title character in the Tony Award-winning play “Amadeus,” The Wall Street Journal said, “Buy your ticket now, then come back and finish reading this review ... I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a better small-screen version of a live stage performance ... Mickey Rowe giving a madly zany performance as Mozart. He reminded me at times of the young Jerry Lewis ... A triumphant demonstration... Artistically successful in every way.”
And they weren’t alone! The reviews kept coming.
I am a better actor because of ― not in spite of ― my autism. Autistic people use scripts every day. We use scripting for daily situations with predictable outcomes, and stick to those scripts. My job as an autistic is to make you believe that I am coming up with words on the spot, that this is spontaneous, the first time the conversation has ever happened in my life; this is also my job onstage as an actor.
For instance, at a coffee shop:
Me: Hi, how are you doing today? (Smile.) Can I please have a small coffee? Thank you so much! (If it seems like more conversation is needed) Has it been busy today?
Barista: Any barista response.
Me: Oh yeah? Is it nicer when it’s busy or when it’s slow? Have a great rest of your day!
Always stick to the script. It makes things infinitely easier.
Or playing Edmond in King Lear:
Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom,
And permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me ...
When my dimensions are as well compact,
My mind as generous, and my shape as true ... [?]
It’s really no different. They’re lines I’ve learned that I say often, but I’m making you believe they are mine, particular to this specific moment. With autism comes a new way of thinking; a fresh eye, a fresh mind. Literally, a completely different wiring of the brain.
I know what it is like to be really good at something but still be overlooked simply because of stigma and bias.
Being in front of an audience of 500 or 5,000 people is very easy for me. The roles are incredibly clear, logical and laid-out. I am onstage; you are sitting in the seats watching me. I am playing a character, and that is what you expect, want and are paying for. The conversations onstage are scripted, and written much better than the ones in my real life. On the street is where conversations are scary — those roles aren’t clear.
Sure, there are lots of things working against me at any given time. For example, over 85% of college graduates on the autism spectrum are unemployed. I’m going to repeat that again ― 85% of college graduates who are on the autism spectrum are unemployed. This isn’t because we are less capable, but largely because of social stigma and the expectations others like Sia have before ever even working with us.
Like the fictional character whom Sia attempted to bring to life in her movie, I was nonverbal. I know what it feels like to be autistic because it is my lived experience every day.
I was nonverbal throughout my earliest years. It is such a damaging misconception that nonverbal autistic people don’t speak because they simply are not smart enough. We live in an inherently ableist society that uses the word “dumb” interchangeably with the word “stupid.” But when you take a moment to think critically about what society tells you is acceptable, you realize that just as “blind” means cannot see and “deaf” means cannot hear, “dumb” actually means cannot speak. I’m here to tell you that although I couldn’t speak, I was certainly not stupid, and I still understood everything everyone else was saying. This is the case for many nonverbal autistic people.
The medical term for this condition is aphasia. Simply put, it means you understand what is being said to you and you know what you want to say, but you are unable to say it. Somewhere between your brain and your mouth, the train goes off the rails. It’s not that mysterious and it’s not limited to autistic people. If anyone, autistic or not, sustains a concussion, they may show symptoms of aphasia.
If you put a communication application, even a keyboard, in front of a nonverbal autistic person, chances are they may communicate more eloquent and perceptive thoughts than you. It’s funny how the less we speak, and the more we observe and listen, often the more we have to say.
Do you think that Stephen Hawking was stupid, since he could only talk using a machine? Of course not! You recognize that he can be one of the greatest intellects in modern history while also being unable to talk without an assistive device. Please extend that same understanding to autistic people with aphasia. There are many things, dear reader, I hope you take from this article, and one is that you decide today to make an effort to stop saying “dumb” when you actually mean to say “stupid.” Do it for childhood Mickey, who knew what everyone else was saying, knew that he couldn’t speak, but knew what he wanted to communicate and find human connection and was determined to do so.
Out of this determination I invented my own incredibly detailed sign language with which to communicate. Obviously, this wasn’t ideal, but it at least allowed me to scrape by when with my immediate family, who, despite any despair over my inability to talk, were fairly familiar with my signs. Once I signed asking for an ice cream cone and as soon as I got it, I promptly squished it into my beloved grandmother’s face, my attempt at “sharing” it with her. Stories like that are a common thread throughout my life. Reaching for human connection, trying to make a moment of friendship and love, but not quite pulling it off. My made-up sign language was a desperate reach to connect with the world, and yet I remained cut off from communication with anyone outside of my immediate family. All of this is what is called lived experience.
“We don’t just want to be audience members. We want to be employed. We want to be active parts of the conversation about autism. We want to help shape the stories about us from the inside just like any other minority group would want to have a hand in telling the public stories that shape public understanding about their group.”
So why is representation important? With 1 in every 54 Americans being autistic, if you are doing a show that in any way involves autism, you’d better be casting an autistic actor or hiring an autistic writer or director. Disability still is not thought of when we talk about diversity, and that needs to change.
We don’t just want to be audience members. We want to be employed. We want to be active parts of the conversation about autism. We want to help shape the stories about us from the inside just like any other minority group would want to have a hand in telling the public stories that shape public understanding about their group.
Young people with disabilities in this country need to see positive role models who will tell them that if you are different, if you access the world differently, then we need you! The world needs you! Excluding people with disabilities from stories that are entirely about disability doesn’t help to accomplish this. The point of storytelling is to connect us with people we otherwise wouldn’t come in contact with, to bring us life experiences we don’t already have. That is why diversity in the arts matters.
Inclusion in the arts matters because it leads to inclusion in life. If even movies entirely about autism can’t include autistic people thoroughly and directly from the inside, that just means that we still have lots of amazing work to be done.
As the first actor on the spectrum to play Christopher, and one of the first actors on the spectrum to get to play any autistic character ever, I got to show all the business leaders that saw the show that they can hire us, that we can do professional work at the highest level, that we get the job done, and that they have no reason to discriminate against developmental disabilities.
And to those of you reading this who are on the spectrum or different in any way, what I ask of all of you today is this: Know yourself well. Know yourself well enough to understand that your differences are your strengths. Be brave, jump in headfirst even when you aren’t sure, and be brave enough to advocate for yourself when you need something. Will you fail? Of course! Sometimes! But will it be worth it? Yes. If I hadn’t been brave and taken leaps I was afraid to take, I would have never gotten to be on stage in “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.” So please be brave, ask for what you need, and trust that sometimes if you take a leap, the net will appear for you. Go be incredible, and more than anything, be you!
There are so many actors on the spectrum. Actors like myself, Emi Tatsumaki, Coby Bird, Tash Baiguerra, Carsen Warner, Alex Plank, Kayla Marie Cromer, Andrew Duff, Alex Stewart, and so many more.
Mickey Rowe (he/him) has had a prolific and varied career as an actor, director and public speaker; now highly sought after both nationally and internationally. He was the epicenter of significant publicity when he became the first autistic actor to play Christopher Boone, the lead role in the Tony Award-winning play “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.” This also made him the first autistic actor to ever play any autistic character in a professional performance setting. He has appeared as the title role in the Tony Award-winning play “Amadeus” and more.
Mickey is author of the book “Our Differences are our Strengths” and was the founding Artistic Director of National Disability Theatre, which works in partnership with Tony Award winning companies such as La Jolla Playhouse in San Diego and the Goodman Theatre in Chicago and more. NDT productions re-imagine disability and universal design as key storytelling and design elements showcasing that people can be successful not just in spite of their challenges, but also because of them. National Disability Theatre’s productions feature only professional artists, artisans, and designers with disabilities. For more from Mickey, visit his website, www.mickeyrowe.me and find him on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
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Best Theater of 2023 – The New York Times
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It sounds slightly deranged to credit Anton Chekhov with having written one of the best scenes of sexual and romantic tension in the canon, but he did: in “Uncle Vanya,” whose Sonya and Astrov have a middle-of-the-night tête-à-tête over cheese in the dining room, exchanging confidences, igniting hopes. Her hopes, mainly, because she’s the hardworking young farmer with the yearslong crush on him, and he’s the heavy-drinking doctor who doesn’t think of her that way. But in Jack Serio’s staging in a Manhattan loft, Marin Ireland’s Sonya and Will Brill’s Astrov touched off the audience’s hopes, too, even if we knew they’d come to nothing. Heads bent close in the candlelight, speaking sotto voce, they made an almost rom-com pair. LAURA COLLINS-HUGHES
Midnight snack, Take 2
In Simon Stephens’s “Vanya,” a funny, sexy tragicomedy that ran in London’s West End this fall, Andrew Scott performed all the parts. He gave a beautifully calibrated, split-focus tension to the yearning chat between Sonia and the tree-planting doctor she adores, whom Stephens has renamed Michael. On the one hand, Scott as the nervous Sonia, for whom the conversation is a treasured memory in the making; on the other, Scott as the sozzled Michael, careless enough to call her “my love,” in Scott’s irresistible Irish lilt. “You have the gentlest voice,” Sonia tells him. And sure, hers is very similar. Still, it’s true. LAURA COLLINS-HUGHES
Pinch-hitter no more
I can’t say I knew the name Joy Woods back in April, so when she was announced as a last minute-replacement on the roster of singers for the annual Miscast benefit concert, I felt a little let down. Not any more! Her quiet-storm medley of “I Could Have Danced All Night” and “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly” from “My Fair Lady” (arranged by Will Van Dyke) was the evening’s revelation, keeping her fully in step with a starry lineup that included Ben Platt, LaChanze and Josh Groban. Now her name seems to be on everyone’s lips, with roles in “Little Shop of Horrors,” “I Can Get It for You Wholesale” and, next spring, “The Notebook” on Broadway. SCOTT HELLER
Expert scene chewing
Two actors really went to town in their utter rejection of verisimilitude this year, single-handedly spicing up their respective Broadway shows. In “The Cottage,” Alex Moffat delivered a gonzo Expressionist-by-way-of-Plastic Man performance in which merely lighting up a cigarette became a full-fledged event. In “Back to the Future: The Musical,” Hugh Coles was a standout as George McFly, taking what Crispin Glover did in the original movie and amping it up into an arch marvel of manic stylization. In “Put Your Mind to It,” he paradoxically suggested George’s stiff demeanor with loose limbs that defied the laws of biomechanics. ELISABETH VINCENTELLI
Purring Rodgers & Hart renditions
Elizabeth Stanley, so skilled at bringing out a pop song’s emotional core, exposed the giddy carnal drive behind “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” in a gala presentation of “Pal Joey” at New York City Center. In full bedroom afterglow, her devil-may-care performance peppered scatting and swinging jazz vocals through the song’s racier lyrics. (The ones thanking god she can be oversexed again.) Also voluptuous was Aisha Jackson’s aching “My Funny Valentine,” made into a torch anthem through Daryl Waters’s despairing orchestrations. Jackson richly moaned through love’s irresistible betrayal, revealing an erotic trembling in the Rodgers & Hart classic. JUAN A. RAMÍREZ
The jukebox hits a wicked note
“Once Upon a One More Time,” a fairy-tale mash-up powered by the hits of Britney Spears and skin-deep feminism, delivered the form’s most profane needle drop. Cinderella (Briga Heelan) was slumped over the hearth, with her haughty stepsisters (Amy Hillner Larsen and Tess Soltau) glowering down at her, when rapid-fire beats blared through the Marquis Theater. “You want a hot body? You want a Bugatti?” Their command was obvious: “You better work, bitch.” NAVEEN KUMAR
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