Taking an American Gun to the Confederate Flag: Todd Mathis Releases Protest Tune "Fuel the Flag"

By: Michael Spawn

In a world of uncertainties, it’s comforting to know we can always count on Todd Mathis for a good protest song.

In 2013, the American Gun frontman, along with members of Whiskey Tango Revue, released “NRA,” three minutes and thirty seconds of honky-tonk satire in which Mathis assumes the perspective of a loud-and-proud firearms enthusiast, hell-bent on protecting an Amendment that is actually in little to no peril. The song is funny, but where “NRA” uses irony to make its point, Mathis’s latest bit of musical conscience arrives in truly earnest form—no jokes, no winks or nudges; simply his feelings on an issue that has the eyes of the nation fixed squarely (again) on South Carolina. But Mathis’s sincere delivery is completely appropriate, given how simultaneously delicate and explosive that issue really is.

Along with ad-hoc backup band The Discard Pile (Paul Bodamer and Philippe Herndon) Mathis just recorded and released “Fuel That Flag,” a protest song in the staunchly American tradition. Musically, the song couldn’t be less subversive; its standard chord progression rides merrily atop an unflashy, mid-tempo backbeat, with the overall feel being that of mid-‘90s alternative rock, a sludgier Superdrag. The tune is easy to latch onto and the chorus pops with confidence, but as with all protest music, the lyrical message is really the whole trip. “Fuel That Flag” began life as a poem partially inspired by Abram Joseph Ryan’s famous Conquered Banner, and once he was satisfied, Mathis put his words to music, recruited a couple of friends, and turned his verse into a recorded document. The lyrics are plaintive without being overly maudlin; they express anger but leave ample room for hope. “Show the state / And show the world / Fuck this talk / Of respectful furl / Take it down / And start tomorrow / To put away / The pain and sorrow,” Mathis sings in the song’s second verse, which gives way to the chorus of, “You say heritage / I say hate / Fuel it now / It’s not too late.” Given Mathis’ well-known humorous touch, (this is, after all, a guy who named his band American Gun, only to turn around write a piece of Second Amendment satire) his sincere delivery is all the more powerfully felt. The vocals dominate the mix—he wants you to hear what he’s saying and how strongly he feels about it all.

Protest music in the United States first gained real traction in the 19^th century and from there, it’s bloodline moved through Woody Guthrie, to Bob Dylan and Janis Ian, on to the hardcore punk scene of Washington D.C., and finally finding its most recent wide-reaching embodiment in the vitriol of Rage Against the Machine. I’m obviously only skimming the surface. The total history of American protest music isn’t nearly as important as the history that music aims to make. Not all succeed, but our society inevitably progresses. With this in mind, it might be fair to say that Todd Mathis has written the most important song of his career. While one song might not change the world, passionate people do. And songs don’t write themselves.

Here's a link to the song's Bandcamp, where you can listen for free or as a name-your-price download.

Darling Dilettante—Discussing the Art of Fear By Haley Sprankle

“Do you ever get nervous up there?”

The age-old question for performers—the question of fear.

In just about every production I’ve been fortunate to be a part of, whether I’m the lead or the third white girl from the left, I’m asked this question by a person outside of the performance realm. They ensure me that they don’t understand how actors memorize each element of the show from lines to choreography to even just remembering to smile every now and then. I normally reply with “I used to when I first started, but now it just seems like second nature.”

Most recently, that question of fear prompted me to question myself and the things others around me do, though, and how we do them.

Every day, a banker goes to work. Every day a stay-at-home parent wakes up and takes care of their family. Every day a waiter or a writer or a bus driver or even the President of the United States gets up and fulfills their necessary requirements for the day. These could be things they’ve always done. These could be things they’ve just started doing. These could be things they love, or they could be things they don’t like.

But they get up and they do them, and like most people feel about performing, I couldn’t even imagine doing these things.

With most things people do for the first time, there was probably an initial fear or nervousness.

What if they don’t like my work? What if I mess up? What if?

We can sit back and ask ourselves “What if?” all day long, but we will never know what WILL happen if we don’t try. Sometimes, it will be a little messy. Sometimes, it will be hard. Sometimes, you will do all right. Sometimes, you will do it all wrong.

One thing, however, is common among all these instances—you learn something new about yourself.

I recently came across a Japanese term: Wabi-Sabi. It translates to “A way of living that focuses on finding beauty within the imperfections of life and accepting, peacefully, the natural cycle of growth and decay.”

In every new or old thing you do, there are endless possibilities, but in the end, the best opportunity you have is to take each outcome and turn it into something beautiful.

So why let fear hold you back from trying something new?

Last Friday, Dreamgirls opened at Trustus Theatre and will run through August 1^st. The cast includes veterans to the stage and newcomers alike, all representing a long process of hard work, fun, and love that we have put into this show. For some of us, each night may just be another performance, but for others, one or more performances may be among the most nerve-wracking things they’ve ever done. At the end of each night, though, all we can do is do what we do best—put on a show. Things may not go exactly as planned, but that’s live theatre.

In live theatre, we support each other. In live theatre, we help each other. In live theatre, we build each other up.

In live theatre, we find the beauty within our fear and imperfections, and we turn it into art.

I won’t be afraid or nervous. I will be excited and proud.

Wabi-Sabi.

(Dreamgirls runs June 26-August 1. Go to trustus.org for tickets!)

Photos by Richard Kiraly

Film Review: Jurassic World is All Bite, Without a Tooth in Sight

By Michael Spawn

SPOILER ALERT ALERT: There is no need to begin this film review with a warning about potential spoilers. Spoiler alerts exist to protect the curious reader against unsolicited advanced knowledge of plot twists, game-changing character development, surprise cameos, or an ending that jolts the nervous system of any moviegoer who thought he knew what he was getting himself into. None of these exist in Jurassic World, so settle down.

(Okay, here’s just one. Jeff Goldblum is not in this movie. The heart breaks.)

In the two weeks that have come and gone since Jurassic World was released in North America, much has been made of the movie’s misogyny, hokey-pokey dialogue, and inattention to scientific detail. All of these criticisms are legitimate to varying degrees (especially the dialogue thing. Holy lord. You know you’re in trouble when the CGI dinosaurs are more convincing communicators than the actors that actually received a paycheck), but to use these complaints as evidence that Jurassic World isn’t a great movie is to miss the point. It isn’t a great movie, but not because the velociraptors lacked feathers or because Bryce Dallas Howard faced near-constant ridicule from male and female characters alike for prioritizing her career over motherhood and romance. As many critics have pointed out, the movie has the high-minded/misguided gall to be “about itself” in the form of Indominus Rex, a brand-new species of dinosaur created solely because parkgoers (moviegoers?) have become so jaded that the present-day existence of animals who died 65 million years ago elicits little more than a passing interest. It says a lot when the characters constantly check their phones in presence of mankind’s mastery over the laws of natural selection. “Our focus groups want more teeth,” a park investor complains near the movie’s beginning. Well, we are the focus group and the moneymen gave us the teeth we’ve allegedly been clamoring for.

No serious person would actually use a term like "postmodern" to describe a two-hour, thirteen-buck orgy of chase scenes and Chris Pratt’s alpha male posturing, but Jurassic World really is, to a small degree, a movie about the public’s relationship to the franchise. And that’s fine. It doesn’t come across nearly as clever as the screenwriters probably hoped, but the effort is admirable. Still, despite any feelings you may have about such an endeavor, successful or not, the mere attempt is a minor problem that’s inextricably tied to Jurassic World’s true albatross: The mighty Jurassic Park.

It won’t do a bit of good for me to heave a self-righteous sigh, turn my thoughts to yesteryear, and wax nostalgic about how groundbreaking and exciting and utterly badass the original film was and continues to be. For people of a certain age, this requires no explanation. It’s a generational touchstone—our Star Wars. We came as close to real dinosaurs as we ever will, and we did it together. A direct comparison of Park and World would be fruitless, but the latter movie never lets you forget where it came from. This is good, in theory. We, as Audience, can’t help but hear Dr. Ian Malcolm’s creepy-but-cool snicker every time one of Jurassic World’s human placeholders says something so patently ridiculous you wonder what strain of medicinal grass was floating around the writers’ room, so it’s reassuring in a way that the movie doesn’t prop itself up as an independent entity with no connection to its Spielbergian origins. But this is the movie’s biggest problem; it wants it both ways. Given the ham-fisted, almost shot-for-shot recreations of some of Park’s most memorable scenes and the fact that characters continually reference the “old park,” (old movie?) coupled with its desperate need to remind Audience that it’s ‘smarter’ than its predecessor—even if its characters aren’t, by light years—Jurassic World commits the deadly sin of unfounded pride. And worse, it invites us to ride along, spellbound, like a pack of raptors charging alongside a motorcycle just because our trainer told us to. And we will, because it’s fun. Toothless, but fun.

We Welcome You to Munchkinland—Elisabeth Gray Engle on Directing This Summer’s Children’s Musical The Wizard of Oz

 

Lions, and tigers, and bears! Oh My!

Sixty-five children of all different ages from the Columbia area came together this summer to bring you the youth edition of a beloved classic, The Wizard of Oz through Workshop Theatre.

“We are very excited to be doing The Wizard of Oz this summer! There are so many magical elements to this show already, so that is really fun to explore. But the real magical feeling comes from the cast members. We have a very large cast of kids of varying ages and schools who come together to create this show. They form bonds and friendships, and the excitement and energy that they bring to rehearsal is the real magic of the show,” director Elisabeth Gray Engle says.

The range of experience and ages might often lead to complications in the directing process, but Engle uses each child’s unique talents and personalities to create their own interpretation of such a well-known show.

“…Many of our roles are double cast, so there are two actors who alternate the role. This is really fun because you get to watch these two young actors create two very different characters from the same material,” Engle explains. “So much of the humor of our production has come from the actors, and I think that is what makes our production unique. We have a very talented group of kids who each bring something different to their characters.”

While the 4 to 18-year-olds bring a lot to the theatrical table, the production team has also put their own spin on things. With people like Alexis Doktor doing costumes and Baxter Engle doing set, the wonderful land of Oz is sure to excited audiences aesthetically.

“I cannot say enough good things about our Oz Team. Katie Hilliger (Choreographer), Jordan Harper (Musical Director), Jeni McCaughan (Producer), Braxton Crewell (Stage Manager), just to name a few, make this experience so positive and meaningful for our kids. We have high expectations for our cast, but we have a lot of fun along the way,” Engle affirms.

Engle, herself, is no stranger to the stage or directing. She is a company member at Trustus Theatre where she has taught, performed, and will be seen next in the world premiere of Big City. On top of all that, this is Engle’s 5^th summer production through Workshop, her 11^th year directing youth theatre, and she continues to teach theatre at Heathwood Hall Episcopal School.

“I love working with kids in the summer because it is such a joyous time of year in their lives. The summer musical is different than a school musical or a show during the year because the kids (and adults!) have that special energy that can only exist during the summer,” Engle elaborates. “…They come together during the summer to create this show, so that [in] itself sets the experience apart from school year productions. It’s really exciting to see so many kids from so many different schools who love musical theatre come together. They get along so well, and they love being with ‘their people.’”

The show runs June 25 through June 28, with both evening and matinee performances at the Heathwood Hall Episcopal School auditorium. Go to workshop.palmettoticketing.com for times and tickets!

“Theatre always has a unique way of bringing people together, and we have certainly seen that this summer with our cast,” Engle endearingly states. “Our cast is made up of kids from varying backgrounds, schools, locations, and experiences, and we have loved seeing them come together to create art.”

By Haley Sprankle

REVIEW: Chapin Theatre Company's Into the Woods by Melissa Ellington

Chapin Theatre Company presents an outstanding production of Into the Woods with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and book by James Lapine at the Harbison Theatre at Midlands Technical College. The musical debuted in 1986 at the Old Globe Theatre in San Diego, followed by a Tony Award-winning Broadway production in 1987. Numerous other versions of Into the Woods have emerged over the years, including Broadway and London revivals as well as the 2014 film adaptation. (This reviewer first fell in love with the musical through the PBS American Playhouse filming of the original stage production. Into the Woods became the first of many musicals I would direct with high school students, and I have fond memories of problem-solving its trickier production demands with energized and optimistic teenagers.) The Chapin Theatre Company succeeds in producing a musical with considerable history through an innovative and fresh approach.

Into the Woods weaves together familiar fairy tales in clever and surprising ways. Key characters are drawn into the woods in pursuit of their dreams and desires: the Baker and his wife seek items needed to lift the Witch’s magic spell and cure their childlessness; Cinderella travels to her mother’s grave for advice on how to attend the prince’s ball; Jack (of eventual beanstalk fame) must sell his beloved cow Milky White in a desperate effort to alleviate his family’s poverty; and Little Red Riding Hood sets out for her grandmother’s house, only to be waylaid by the Wolf. While Act One traces the journey towards wish fulfillment, Act Two takes a darker turn as the characters face what happens after “happily ever after.” As Cinderella sings to a heartbroken Little Red Riding Hood: “Sometimes people leave you, halfway through the wood. Others may deceive you. You decide what’s good.”  Recognition of human imperfection and finding hope amid bleak circumstances provide thematic cornerstones that are as timely now as ever.

Into the Woods has been challenging and moving audiences for decades, and astute director Jamie Carr-Harrington has assembled a top-notch cast for this excellent production.  In the central role of the Baker, Clayton King provides vocal power and emotional connection through pivotal numbers such as “No More,” a poignant sequence with the Mysterious Man (aptly played by Andy Nyland, who is also the appealing Narrator.) Becca Kelly (Baker’s Wife) and Karly Minacapelli (Cinderella) create engaging characters while sharing gorgeous vocal talents.

Catherine L. Bailey triumphs in the complex role of the Witch, communicating both strength and frailty in songs such as “Last Midnight” which is performed as a beguiling lullaby that transforms into a ferocious display of power. Jackie Rowe plays Little Red with depth and compassion, making a role that could easily become a caricature into a highly moving depiction of growing up. After admiring his work on various Columbia stages for years, this reviewer was thrilled to open the program and see Paul Lindley II cast in the role of Jack. Lindley’s vocal energy and magnetic stage presence contribute to a gratifying performance. Nancy Ann Smith delivers a delightful portrayal of Jack’s beleaguered mother.

As the “charming, not sincere” Princes, Jeremy Reasoner and Kyle Neal have impeccable timing and admirable voices, especially in the crowd-pleasing number “Agony.” Ann Baggett (Stepmother), Rachel Glowacki (Lucinda), and Elizabeth Stepp (Florinda) depict Cinderella’s step-family with comedic glee, while Courtney Reasoner shares a beautiful soprano in the role of Rapunzel. Parker Byun succeeds as an appropriately sleazy Wolf and doubles in the role of Cinderella’s incompetent father. Ruth Glowacki’s fierce Granny and Giant and Joshua Wall’s sarcastic Steward contribute to the strong performance.

With superb musical direction by Christopher A. McCroskey, the cast demonstrates extraordinary vocal ability throughout the production. A first-rate group of musicians fulfill the intricate challenges of Sondheim’s score, including David Branham (Bass), Brian Lamkin (Trumpet), and Samantha Marshall (Flute). Patty Boggs’ precise work with percussion enhances the production significantly.

A substantial production staff has collaborated to bring Into the Woods to life, including Carr-Harrington, Lou Clyde (Producer), Carrie Chalfont (Stage Manager), Matt Pound (Technical Director; Set and Lighting Design), Shelby Sessler (Costumer), Kara Pound (Art Design), Diane Moore (Properties) and J.S. Lee (Sound Design and Technician). The technical demands of Into the Woods are considerable, and the production team showcases creativity and skill in staging this performance.

With Carr-Harrington’s expert guidance, the Chapin Theatre Company scores a major win with Into the Woods. For viewers who think they have already seen this material because they went to the movie version: you really don’t want to miss the opportunity to enjoy this lovely production of a musical treasure by a successful local theatre company in the wonderful Harbison Theatre facility. As the characters sing in the opening prologue, “Into the woods, it’s time to go!”

Into the Woods will be presented by the Chapin Theatre Company at the Harbison Theatre at Midlands Technical College on June 24, 25, 26, and 27 at 8 pm and on June 28 at 3 pm. The theatre is located at 7300 College Street in Irmo, SC.  For more information, visit www.chapintheatre.org.

There’s a Road We Must Travel: Mariangeles Borghini on the Road to the Removal of the Confederate Flag

By Haley Sprankle

“South Carolina is a beautiful state, and we are a diverse community,” local social worker and social justice activist Mariangeles Borghini says. “And we don’t all fit under that symbol.”

On June 20, 2015, thousands of people gathered on the State House lawn. A symphony of car horns sounded in support and agreement upon entering the scene, and chants of “Take it down!” flooded the streets. The people of Columbia united for one cause—the removal of the Confederate flag from the Capitol grounds. Borghini was one of the driving forces behind this movement. Along with Emile DeFelice, head of Soda City Market, and Tom Hall, attorney and filmmaker, the trio created an event that changed the game of rallies in Columbia, in South Carolina, and in the nation.

“After the attack in Charleston, I was looking online to find discussions about the connection between what happened and the Confederate flag we have flying at the State House…And I couldn’t find any,” Borghini states.

As a social justice and human rights activist, she did what she does best and joined a team rallying people together by creating a Facebook page, “Take Down the Flag SC,” which now has over 8,000 likes. Through the page, Borghini was able to promote the online petition against the flag, while also creating an event under the same title. The immediate response was amazing—in less than 24 hours, the event had over 1,500 people pledging to attend.

“I had no idea how this was going to take off,” Borghini explains. “At Saturday’s rally, we had thousands of people around the State House asking in a peaceful, respectful, and hopeful way. That’s what I call democracy, social participation, and community advocacy.”

The grace of the crowd and profound statements of the speakers were a testament to the honest intentions of the movement. There was no violence, and there were no visible counter-protesters, but there was a whole lot of love. “We worked as a team to make this happen,” Borghini adds. “Not only the three of us, but the thousands of people supporting us through the [Facebook] page and our family and friends that pushed us forward and had our backs.”

While many have openly voiced their disagreement with the movement and claim the flag is merely a symbol of “heritage,” Borghini takes a stronger stance on the hot topic.

“Since I came to this country more than five years ago, it was always a shock for me to go downtown and see the Confederate flag flying in front of our state Capitol. Every time a friend or relative came to visit, it was really difficult and shameful to me to explain that to them. I’ve always felt frustrated and impotent about that,” Borghini divulges. “…The flag has been used as a symbol of hate, racial discrimination, and injustice, and it is offensive for many of us that are living and raising our families in South Carolina.”

In a press conference on June 22, 2015, Governor Haley announced her support for the flag’s removal, and gave a July 4 deadline for the decision to be made.

“I am thankful with our Governor for taking a step forward on this. To remove the flag is the first reasonable step in the process of healing a history of segregation, discrimination, injustice, and loss for many human beings. We are identifying with different values—we are not what the flag symbolizes to the majority of people. I really hope our legislators move in the same direction,” Borghini says.

Activism can’t just stop at a rally, though.

“My advice is to love each other and to speak up when we see something that is not right every day,” Borghini advocates. “Racial violence and other types of injustice happen on a daily basis, so let’s not let that happen. If we don’t do it, we cannot expect others to do it for us!”

For information about future events and initiatives regarding the removal of the Confederate flag, be sure to like the Take Down the Flag SC Facebook page.

“It is great we are not being silent anymore,” Borghini affirms. “We are speaking up and taking action towards having a better place to live and raise our families.”

Nickelodeon Theatre Screens Tom Hall's Compromised

Proceeds from screening of Compromised, a documentary about the Confederate flag on the South Carolina State House Grounds, to benefit Emanuel AME Church.

 

The Nickelodeon Theatre, South Carolina's only non-profit art house film theater, will screen Compromised, a documentary film about the saga of the Confederate flag, memorials, grave markers, statues and symbols on the S.C. State House grounds. Proceeds from Compromised screenings on June 27, at 12 p.m. and 12:30 p.m. will benefit Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, S.C.

Compromised, by Columbia filmmaker Tom Hall, features other prominent South Carolinians, and analyzes the reasons the South Carolina General Assembly voted in 2000 to remove the Confederate flag from the State House dome to its current position facing Main Street in downtown Columbia. The screening will also have a post-film discussion with the director.

“As South Carolina is at a crossroads regarding the fate of the Confederate flag on the South Carolina State House grounds following the shootings at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, we’re again screening Compromised,” said Andy Smith, executive director of the Nickelodeon. “The Nick has the ability to be part of relevant cultural conversations, and we hope this film will add context to the discussion we’re having in South Carolina and throughout the United States about the Confederate flag, its history and its future.”

Tickets for the two screenings are $10 each and no member discounts are available. For more information on the Nickelodeon Theatre, please visit www.nickelodeon.org or follow the Nick on Twitter and Facebook.  Check out the Facebook event to see the other cool kids going to this event.

Darling Dilettante: You’ve Got Time… For More Than Just OITNB by Haley Sprankle

This is it.

The end.

The final episode of the third season of Orange is the New Black.

What am I going to compulsively obsess over in any spare time I have? How am I going to wait a whole year to find out what happens to Piper Chapman, arguably the single most annoying “protagonist” on television? WHAT am I going to do?

I’ve watched every episode up to the last from Thursday until now, in between rehearsals and the necessities of everyday life. I even scheduled my NAPS around episodes.

As I contemplated all this before pressing play, I paused to realize that I do not act like this about anything else. Here I am, having just made an entire summer reading list. Here I am, wanting to go see the Andy Warhol exhibit at the Columbia Museum of Art. Here I am, wanting to make more time for traveling, meeting new people, and seeing old friends. Yet, here I am, watching Netflix.

The latest fad is “binge-watching.” Urban Dictionary defines it as “marathon viewing of a TV show from its DVD box set.” While the definition may be a bit outdated with its exclusion of Netflix and other streaming services, it still has one concept correct—marathoning. With TV shows so accessible, it is too easy to get drawn in, season after season.

With Netflix’s new series, they publish entire seasons all at one time, allowing viewers to choose whether or not they allocate their episodes over time or simply drown themselves in them all at once. If you’re anything like I am, you’ll choose the latter, keeping up with Litchfield Correctional Facility through 13 episodes in less than a week.

As a nation, it seems we’ve all started to fall down this technological rabbit hole.

It becomes too easy to recluse and watch endless episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and Mad Men. Our cell phones have become more hand accessories than tools to communicate. It’s easier to e-mail a coworker than to walk over to their cubicle and talk face-to-face.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those people who doesn’t believe in cell phones, or social media, or television. It’s just not possible to eliminate the media from our lives. With just about any job, you have to be able to readily communicate. In this fast-paced world, social media is often the only look into our loved one’s lives. Television not only entertains, but also informs us (biased, or not) of what is happening in the world around us.

Media, whether we like it or not, has not only saturated our lives but become relevant and necessary.

So how do we, in this technological age, utilize the media without gorging ourselves on it? How do we make it more of a tool and less of a crutch?

While I may not have the answer now, I’m going to make the conscious effort to cut down on my screen time. Maybe it will be as little as putting my phone away when I’m at dinner with friends, or maybe I’ll pick up a book when I want to turn on a show. However inconsequential or pretentious it may seem, I want to make an effort to connect more with the people and the world around me than I connect to the Wi-Fi. (How could I resist such a good joke?)

In the meantime, though, I’m going to go finish this last episode...

Double Review: Br'er Rabbit - Columbia Children's Theatre and NiA Theatre

Theatre review by Melissa Swick Ellington

A NiA production in collaboration with Columbia Children’s Theatre is a sure sign of clever family entertainment, and the current offering of Br’er Rabbit will delight audiences of all ages. Written by Darion McCloud, H. Loretta Brown, and Heather McCue, this version of the trickster’s tale celebrates music and rhythm, vibrant characters, audience interplay, and cunning creativity. Recognizing the complex legacy of Br’er Rabbit in his director’s notes, McCloud envisions an approach to the folk character that “really does belong to all of us.” With this production, NiA and CCT present an interpretation of the tale which delivers “that upshot of joy.” (Further observations on the history surrounding the “Br’er” tradition are explored in the accompanying interview by young Kat Bjorn.)

A master storyteller himself, the magnetic performer McCloud is perfectly cast in the storytelling role of Anansi the spider. McCloud’s interaction with the young audience members seems natural and genuine. Even his dynamic facial expressions foster an atmosphere of encouraging warmth. As the crafty and appealing Br’er Rabbit, Bonita Peeples plays the resourceful trickster with quick-witted glee. Peeples draws in the audience with admirable skill, made evident by children’s eagerness to cover for Br’er Rabbit when the other animals realize they have been fooled by the rascal. At the performance attended by this reviewer, kids insisted “She’s nowhere!” and “Run for your life!” in their efforts to help the beloved main character. (An added treat: audiences even get to appreciate her glorious singing voice!)

The entire ensemble delivers first rate performances which include McCue as the brainy and sassy Br’er Tiger, Charlie Goodrich as Br’er Bear, Michael Clark as Br’er Lion, and Jimmy Wall as Mr. Man and Tar Baby.  Supported by percussionist Don Laurin Johnson, this talented group weaves a captivating web of magical sounds and sights. Moments of aural symphony encourage audience members to clap along, and in the case of my preschooler, offer an enthusiastic “Yeah!” At certain performances, alternate actors appear in the roles of Br’er Lion (Clark Wallace), Br’er Bear (Brown), and Mr. Man/Tar Baby (Julian Deleon and Goodrich).

An innovative approach to physical theatricality pervades the production. From the beguiling staging of the opening spider sequence to the finely tuned collaboration of Peeples and McCue in the big chase through the rousing group dance in the final scene, these performers embody characters and story with boldness and flair. Adults will particularly enjoy the pop culture references (check out that Scarecrow!) and wordplay such as the “arugula” jokes, while the kids relish the opportunity to offer ideas on sticky substances for the Tar Baby (peanut butter and jelly, gum, melted candy, and marshmallows were popular choices).

McCloud provides creative vision as director, costumer, and sound designer, and Wall conjures effective visuals as makeup designer. Costumes evoke animal identity while also inviting children to imagine. McCue (company manager), Crystal Aldamuy (stage manager), and Jim Litzinger (sound and light technician) contribute to a cohesive production team.

As one youngster declared early in the performance, “I knew it was going to be funny!” Columbia families have come to anticipate high quality theatre at CCT, and the collaboration with NiA to produce Br’er Rabbit is an enjoyable success. Treat yourself to the rollicking good time of Br’er Rabbit, and you will likely agree with my preschool son’s post-show exultation: “That was FUN!”

Rising Second Grader Interviews Cast of Columbia Children’s Theatre Br’er Rabbit by Kat Bjorn (with some help from her Papa, Arik)

Kat’s Papa:  Hey folks, technically this part isn’t a review of Columbia Children’s Theatre’s current production, Br’er Rabbit, but seriously, you have to see this show—even adults without kids.  You see, there’s a Scarecrow Formerly Known as Prince; Br’er Lions & Tigers & Bears, oh my!; plus more Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Da than you can shake a briar patch at.  Also—

Kat Bjorn:  Papa, shhh!!  I’m starting the interview now.

Papa:  Okay, time to go be scribe.  Seriously, see this show!

Kat Bjorn:  What does “Br’er” mean?

Darion McCloud (Anansi the Storyteller):  That’s a good question.  It means “brother,” but it can be used for boys and girls—all humanity, really.

Heather McCue (Br’er Tiger):  Lady tigers thank you!

Kat Bjorn:  (pointing at Br’er Lion) Are you a lady?

Michael Clark (Br’er Lion):  Are you referring to my fabulous wig—I mean mane?

Kat Bjorn:  Take off your mane.

Br’er Lion:  Don’t mind if I do; it’s getting hot in here.

Jerry Stevenson, CCT Artistic Director:  He’s not even a natural blonde.

Kat Bjorn:  If “Br’er” means “brother,” and they’re brothers, how come Br’er Lion, Br’er Tiger and Br’er Bear are always trying to kill Br’er Rabbit?

Br’er Tiger:  Do you have any brothers and sisters?  I have a sister, and we fight like cats and dogs.

Anansi the Storyteller:  Also, let’s face it, they’re predators.  And rabbits taste good.

Kat Bjorn:  The characters, right?  People don’t really eat people.

Anansi the Storyteller:  Correct.  NiA Company does not endorse cannibalism.

Jim Litzinger, CCT Managing Director:  Nor does Columbia Children’s Theatre!

Kat Bjorn:  Next question.  My Papa says the Br’er Rabbit tales were sometimes codes for African-Americans a long time ago.  What does this mean, and what’s a code?

Anansi the Storyteller:  A code is when people say one thing but mean something else.  And your Papa is right.  During slavery, black people were treated really badly.  They used these stories to feel better.  Br’er Rabbit was code for black people; Br’er Fox and the other Br’er predators were the slaveholders.

Br’er Tiger:  It had a lot to do with power

Anansi the Storyteller:  Right.  They had to speak in code or risk getting punished.

Kat Bjorn:  Why does Br’er Rabbit carry a knapsack in the show poster but not in the play?

Anansi the Storyteller:  Um, director’s choice, I guess.

Papa whispers to Kat.

Kat Bjorn:  Did it have anything to do with budget?

Jerry Stevenson, CCT Artistic Director:  Knapsacks definitely would have broken the bank.

Kat Bjorn:  I’m pretty good at crafts.  I could make a knapsack pretty cheap.

Anansi the Storyteller:  We’ll have to hire you next time as a financial consultant.

Kat Bjorn:  Excuse me, Mr. Scarecrow, can you tell us about “Purple Rain”?

Anansi the Storyteller:  Actually, that’s the Actor Formerly Known as Scarecrow.  The scarecrow’s real name is Button-Bright.  It’s named after a character in L. Frank Baum’s Sky Island.  The Prince mask is another story altogether.

Kat Bjorn:  In the book we’re reading at home, Uncle Remus is the storyteller.  But in this play, it’s Anansi the Spider.  Why?

Anansi the Storyteller:  Actually, many of the Br’er Rabbit stories were originally African folktales.  And in Africa, Anansi the Spider narrates the tales.

Br’er Lion:  Well, I never got there, did I—thanks to Br’er Rabbit!  So we’ll never know!

Kat Bjorn:  How do you prepare to act like an animal character?

Bonita Peeples (Br’er Rabbit):  I use my imagination!  I try to think childlike.  And rehearsal is a great place for me to practice my imagination!

Kat Bjorn:  What was your favorite part of the show?

Jimmy Wall (Tar Baby):  When they’re planning to cook Br’er Rabbit.

Br’er Rabbit:  When Br’er Rabbit interrupts Sister Moon in the shower.

Br’er Lion:  The Tar Baby story.

Kat Bjorn:  Final question:  How come Br’er Rabbit always outsmarts Br’ers Lion, Tiger & Bear, but isn’t smart enough to realize Tar Baby isn’t really alive?

Br’er Rabbit:  You can’t be smart about everything—but I did get myself out of that jam, didn’t I?

Bre’er Rabbit runs June 12-21 with performances at the following dates and times:  Friday, June 12 at 7 p.m.; Saturday, June 13 at 10:30 a.m., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; Sunday, June 14 at 3 p.m.; Saturday, June 20 at 10:30 a.m., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; Sunday, June 21 at 3 p.m.  Tickets are $10 for adult and children 3 and up.  Seniors & Military ticket prices are $8.  Tickets are $5 for the Saturday 7 p.m. performance.  The Columbia Children’s Theatre is located at the Second Level of Richland Mall, 3400 Forest Drive (corner of Beltline and Forest Drive).  Enter the Second Level parking garage walkway and park in Level 2-L for easy access.  Call 691.4548 for more information or to reserve tickets for groups.  To learn more about Columbia Children’s Theatre , visit http://columbiachildrenstheatre.com/ .

Film Review: Love and Mercy by James D. McCallister

An effectively stylized glimpse into Beach Boys mastermind Brian Wilson’s troubled life composing what remains as the arguable pinnacle of the modern American popular music canon, in the brilliant Love and Mercy we find depicted his mid-1960s creative eruption as well as the sad, bizarre interlude twenty years later when the shattered Wilson, his work by then rightly venerated and admired, nevertheless found himself under the mental and chemical duress of an avaricious vampire posing as devoted therapist.

In the film’s boldest stylistic conceit, the overlapping, intersecting movements of this symphony find Wilson portrayed by two capable, established actors: Paul Dano (There Will Be Blood) and the top-billed John Cusack (High Fidelity). Neither of them look especially like Wilson (nor each other), but then Love and Mercy isn't seeking a reading as a standard biopic of a troubled artist's rise and fall, so it’s probably reductive to criticize the visual verisimilitude of the actors (Todd Haynes’s highly stylized I’m Not There, a six-actor portrayal of key moments in Bob Dylan's life, carries out this conceit ad extremum.)

But in that biographical sense, Beach Boys fans familiar or not with the backstage stories will no doubt find much red meat to enjoy. Being cognizant of most of the details of the Wilson story gave this reviewer great pleasure at seeing the often deft inclusion of a myriad of compelling biographical detail regarding the band, the creative rivalry with The Beatles, the controlling and abusive father figure, Brian's aversion to touring, the mythical recording sessions, and so on.

Brian Wilson of both timeframes seems trapped in a circular, living hell of abusers, all of them 'with his best interest' in mind, including bandmate and cousin Mike Love (Jake Abel), who argues for the abandonment of Wilson's masterpiece SMiLE in favor of more bubblegum pop on which they made their fame and fortune. "But Pet Sounds didn't even go gold," he whines.

If any aspect of the narrative suffers under the weight of biopic expectations, it's the often hard-working expository dialogue, used by necessity to fill us in on the broader details of Wilson's creative journey and his band's place in the pop cultural milieu of the times. Again, little of this material feels particularly revelatory; if you know the story, you won’t learn much new.

But it’s the singer and not the song, as they say, and here Dano’s more accurate physical performance of the composer delights and saddens often within the same scene, while the melancholic baggage of the mind-controlled, isolated Cusack version rends at the heart in even more devastating ways. The contrast between the young artist at his peak and this pitiable creature seems vast indeed. Almost like two different people . . .

At last, however, someone comes into Brian's life who wants to help him: after an encounter on the showroom floor where she sells Cadillacs, Melinda (Elizabeth Banks), becomes attracted, and later appalled by, his pathetic situation as the literal prisoner of one Dr. Eugene Lundy (Paul Giamatti).

Ostensibly he's Brian Wilson’s savior, but Melinda quickly sees how the controlling Lundy clearly profits from the supposedly clinical relationship, while at the same time employing a wildly abusive shout-therapy probably quite reminiscent of Wilson's having grown up with a father who not only exploited his sons into stardom, but also beat them. Once Melinda hears Brian’s sad pleas about being over-medicated and legally separated from his family she decides to act, but it won't be easy. Again, in the standard biopic we'd be treated to the dramatic courtroom battle over Brian Wilson's guardianship, but here it's only the emotional beats in which we're interested, which is to the story's ultimate benefit.

While the back-and-forth cutting keeps the dual plot lines moving at a brisk pace, the storytelling never seems rushed, and the scope of the film remains focused and compelling from start to finish. Special commendation goes out to the sound design and music teams, both in terms of the recording session-scenes of Wilson crafting Pet Sounds and later SMiLE.

After producing credits on a number of well-received pictures (12 Years a Slave, Into the Wild), Bill Pohland arrives on the feature directorial scene with as accomplished a first effort as we’ve seen in some time, one that’s sure to attract ample awards attention later this year, in particular for its leads (Dano and Banks) and key supporting role (Cusack). Kudos to all involved in crafting this lyrical cautionary tale about the foibles of a sensitive genius stirred by the voices in his head to create great art, but surrounded by money-grubbers and myopic, opportunistic bloodsuckers keen to both drain and imprison him. It makes for one hell of a harrowing, life affirming hero’s journey. Highest recommendation, though Beach Boys scholars may expect to come away particularly gratified.

The Capote-Van Halen Hypothesis: Michael Spawn Talks Guitar Gods and Wordsmiths

By Michael Spawn

A week ago, a friend and I were sitting in a local tavern, drinking Yuengling, talking literature. Next on his hit list, he told me, was Truman Capote’s landmark true-crime opus In Cold Blood. “It’s a great book,” I said. “You’ll like it. Capote’s got a really interesting style.”

“What’s it like?” he asked. “I’ve never read him.”

A tough question. How best to describe what makes any author’s style so thoroughly his own? After a pause, I decided to appeal to our shared misfortune of having grown up as music geeks and library junkies. “Truman Capote is the Eddie Van Halen of the written word,” I said.

I had hoped it would be a sufficient enough answer that no more explanation would be necessary, but it was not to be.

He blinked. “Go on.”

I leaned back in my chair, winding up for what promised to be an exercise in garbled, nonsense theorizing. Instead, I surprised myself with how much sense my response actually made (at least to me, and at least at the time.) “Alright,” I said. “Eddie’s an amazing guitarist, right? A virtuoso. The sounds that come out when he puts his fingers to the strings could come only from him. It’s like listening to an alien trying to communicate with a Midwestern 4-H club. Capote’s the same way. He’s a demon on the typewriter. Where Eddie’s licks demonstrate an almost manic infatuation with the possibilities of his chosen art form, Capote’s stuff could only have been written by someone who has dedicated his life to the aesthetics of serious prose and the pursuit of the perfect sentence.”

My friend nodded slowly and eyed me sideways. “There’s a but.”

“There is a but,” I said. “But, that’s just it. It’s only aesthetics. Both men represent the performative pinnacle of their respective mediums. For all of their talent, it’s still just a show. It’s ‘look-what-I-can-do.’ With a few exceptions, there’s an emptiness at the heart of what they do. A deficiency of soul.”

He seemed to understand completely. “Oh, okay. That makes sense.” He took a long drink. “I’m still going to read the book.”

“Of course you should still read the book.”

“And Van Halen still kicks ass.”

“Of course Van Halen still kicks ass.”

“But only pre-Hagar.”

“Of course only pre-Hagar.”

From there, talk moved easily and rightfully on to other things, but questions began to gnaw at me. Was I right in my comparison? Was it too simplistic to be useful to anyone but my friend and me? And could this template be used to explain the relationships between other word- and axe-slingers? I couldn’t ignore the possibilities and journalistic importance of such an endeavor. So, what follows—in the interest of public service and writerly responsibility—is a brief rundown of renowned authors and their guitar hero counterparts. The list is by no means complete, but it’s a good start at cracking the shell surrounding perhaps one of the greatest non-mysteries of our time: Can our literary tastes explain our musical leanings and vice versa? (Note: The previously mentioned exceptions to the Capote-Van Halen hypothesis are also provided below.)

Ernest Hemingway = Johnny Ramone: This one should be fairly obvious. Ramone is a paragon of six-string efficiency. No excess, no fluff, no showing off. Likewise, Hemingway made it nearly impossible for anyone to write in lean, declarative sentences without betraying the Old Man’s influence. Johnny viewed lead playing and solos the same way Hemingway viewed subordinate clauses—a masturbatory frivolity to be deployed only in the most desperate moments; i.e., to communicate climactic prosaic intensity or when Phil Spector is waving a revolver in your face.

See: 

“He went over and sat on the logs. He did not want to rush his sensations any.” – “Big Two-Hearted River”

“Judy is a Punk” – The Ramones

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6GAGdBiJF0

Kurt Vonnegut = Joe Walsh: Like everyone else in 1975, the Eagles knew they did not rock. Enter Joe Walsh, an insatiable party monster who brought a sense of roguish mayhem to the most milquetoast band in the world. Like Walsh, Kurt Vonnegut took his fun seriously, and this approach was key. It allowed both men to produce work that was imbued with their drunk-uncle-at-the-reunion personas, dropping nuggets of humanist wisdom and lyrical throwaways just goofy enough to flirt with profundity. Walsh did for the Eagles what Vonnegut did for science fiction, injecting a much-needed sense of play into a staid and self-important institution.

See: “Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.” – Cat’s Cradle

“Life’s Been Good” – But Seriously, Folks…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T204WpZSbLw

Charles Dickens = Eric Clapton: Both Clapton and Dickens boast massive bodies of work that have garnered heaps of critical and commercial success. Both possess undeniable talent and perhaps even mastery of their chosen instrument. Both enjoy comfortable elder statesman status and are now required reading/listening for any student of either medium. And both are so dull as to induce comatose drooling and lethargy for which a strong enough accelerant has yet to be synthesized. But they’re not anesthetizing across the board. Mercifully, Clapton has written a small handful of tunes so stellar they justify his entire career (“Layla,” “Bell Bottom Blues”) and Dickens created the most iconic, entertaining character in the admittedly slim pantheon of holiday-themed literature (Ebenezer Scrooge.) The lesson here is that talent can get you far, but resting on your laurels can spell a social legacy of doom.

See: A Christmas Carol

Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1oLU4FAq8E

Hunter S. Thompson = Lou Reed: Lou Reed and Dr. Thompson have more in common than just a love for popping speed like Skittles, though that’s certainly part of the equation. Above anything else, these men were chroniclers—Reed of the strung-out, sexually uninhibited New York City underground freak culture, and Thompson of the perversions and hypocrisies hidden beneath everything from the Kentucky Derby to a presidential campaign. They each saw something in the American character that demanded to be explored and, if the temperature didn’t match the room, exposed. Thompson’s literary style, whether he’s working out some form of reasonable journalism or flights of hash-addled fantasy, is marked by a tendency for digression that doesn’t take anything away from the greater point he’s making; in fact, it’s from these moments that some of his most clear-headed wisdom emerges. Reed shares this meandering tendency. The Velvet Underground were a musical watershed, but what gets so often overlooked is that they might well have been the first serious drone rock band, and these droning side paths were the foundation of some of Reed’s strangest and best moments. The guitar solo in “Pale Blue Eyes,” for example, sounds so odd that it might not even be in the proper key, but somehow that dissonance wraps the song into the neat little package it’s supposed to be. If the solo in a love song feels wrong, it could be because the song’s creator is making a statement about love itself.

See: Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ‘72

“Pale Blue Eyes” – The Velvet Underground

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcDuR9BF0Oc

Truman Capote = Eddie Van Halen: I may have accused Capote of a ‘deficiency of soul,’ and that’s for the most part true. But read this:

“Only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves,

emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their

agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to

heaven for the one that leads to hell.”  -Other Voices, Other Rooms

This line is so good it makes my earlier claim seem really ridiculous and sort of smug. As for Eddie, there’s little evidence that he is anything more than a mind-blowingly talented robot.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uDOFIttS69I

Interview: Americana Trio Prairie Willows to Release Debut LP this Friday, June 12th, at Conundrum

By: Erika Ryan

Despite Columbia cranking out more metal bands than Americana groups, The Prairie Willows have become a staple in the city’s scene.

In 2012, Kristen Harris, Kelley Douglas, and Perrin Skinner became the Prairie Willows, together writing delightfully folky, southern ballads about anything from biscuits to breakups. After a handful of original tunes and local performances over the years, their first official record is finally complete.

They’re taking the stage — and backyard — at Conundrum Music Hall June 12 to celebrate their much-anticipated album release, but also to kick back with some friends. Harris, Douglas and Skinner have been anticipating the album’s release as much as any fan. Also, after a successful partnership with local puppeteer Lyon Hill during Indie Grits, he will be joining the ladies on stage this Friday to perform a piece for their original song “Whiskey.”

They’re hardy, they’re homegrown, and they’re quirky. Their album is expected to reflect each of their personalities just as much as this interview we were able to have with them this week.

Jasper: How did the Prairie Willows come to be? When did you get together?

Perrin Skinner: We came together during the fall of 2012. Kristen moved in with me, and we knew Kelley for a while, because we’ve all been involved in the Columbia music scene for a long time…so we met and we decided to start playing music together, and experimenting to see what would happen. Kelley would just come over, and we would practice in the living room and just work up some songs and some covers. We just kind of took it from there and it blossomed.

Jasper: How is the music community for Americana in Columbia?

Kelley Douglas: I love it. I think it’s the best part of playing music here is that Americana is a really approachable genre. We’ve met a lot of people through playing music. A lot of people can connect with our music — we’re able to share it, and teach them songs that we know, so that they can jump in and play with us sometimes. It’s really fun to kind of collaborate with people, and share songs that some of us already know and learn new ones together.

Kristen Harris: Because of the community in Columbia for Americana, we’ve met some really great people just coming through town that we’ve gotten to play music with or share a bill with. It’s really exciting.

Jasper: Can you tell me a bit about your new album?

Perrin Skinner: It’s been a long time coming for us. We’ve wanted to release a full-length record for a while; it just kind of took us a bit to get everything together. We raised all the money ourselves, and got some really great guys to record us. The record is full of originals as well as traditional songs, and it’s really exciting. It’s called “White Lies.”

Kelley Douglas: What’s cool about it is that—we didn’t plan it—but it sounds like the perfect mixture of the three of us. It has elements of the different kinds of music that we like, and we brought our different tastes in. Just listening to it, you can tell it’s a beautiful collaboration of three very different people who created something unique and it came together as a way to surprise all of us.

Jasper: So, what do you have planned for the album release?

Kelley Douglas: We’re having it at conundrum on June 12, and the doors are at 7:30. Slim Pickens is opening for us—they’re some close friends—and Branhan Lowther, the lead player for that group, is going to join us on stage to play to play with us on a few of our songs. We’ve added him in on a few songs, and I think it gives it a little more of a dynamic. We’re really excited, and we have a lot of friends coming. It’s going to be a lot of fun, we’re going to hang out outside some, and it’s going to be a good night to be with friends…

Kristen Harris: Oh, and we’ll also have a puppet feature.

Jasper: Can you tell me more about that?

Kristen Harris: We collaborated with the local puppeteer, Lyon Hill from the Columbia Marionette Theatre recently for Indie Grits for the Spork in Hand Puppet Slam, and he created a piece that goes along with one of our songs called “Whiskey,” and it’s really cool. His wife, Jennifer Hill, is acting in it as a shadow puppet, and it’s a really cool piece — that’ll be our first part of our performance at the CD release.

Jasper: That’s awesome! So what’s next for the Prairie Willows after this?

All: That’s a good question [laughter].

Perrin Skinner: We’re just going to wait and see what happens — this has been a big goal for us, and we’re reaching it — we’re anticipating the album release and then hopefully it’ll bring a lot of opportunities our way.

We all love the idea of touring — going on the road to play different venues and sell our record. But we’ll be playing shows around town this summer, so that’s kind of what we have in store for right now.

Darling Dilettante: The 69th Annual Tony Awards By Haley Sprankle

A day ago.

June 7, 2015.

The Tony Awards.

Other awards shows are grander, flashier, and better-funded, but what could be classier than celebrating the Great White Way in Radio City Musical Hall with the top tier performers of the day? Thespians far and wide await this day for the entire year… …And I missed it for rehearsal.

Melodramatically devastated, I recorded it and wallowed in self-pity for the rest of the evening. I couldn’t remember the last time I missed the Tonys since I had begun taking theatre seriously. I trudged to rehearsal with the desperate hope that maybe the powers that be would change their minds and cancel. They didn’t. Once I got there, I was immediately entranced. Music flowed as the newly gathered band rehearsed before the cast’s call time. The aura of the live music transported me back to my very first opening night in 2001 at Workshop Theatre in Gypsy, as most live orchestration does to me. I feel the excitement of the overture and re-experience the rush of adrenaline before my first performance—the magic of live theatre when each integral element comes together to make a whole.

… And that was just a rehearsal.

After it was all said and done, I went home, went to bed, and watched the Tonys in the morning. Sure, it wasn’t as exciting as it would have been live; I didn’t get to live-tweet it, much to my chagrin, and I already knew who won Best Leading Actress in a Musical (Go Kelli!), but the magic was still there. Somewhere, the spark of excitement in a little girl’s heart performing for the first time was still a part of my experience. That’s the magic of it all. That’s why we rehearse for countless hours. That’s why we perform multiple times a week. Somewhere, deep down, there’s that memory of when you first fell in love with theatre, whether as a performer or an audience member. Sounds cheesy, right?

As cliché as it may sound, it’s true. People often find serenity, solace, and even sanctuary in the theatre. For many, they were able to pursue their passions; for some, they were finally able to just be themselves.

We finally live in a time in which a kid can see musical theatre completely written by women win the Tony for the first time ever. When a kid can see an Asian woman take home a Tony for only the second time. When a kid can listen to another young girl sing a song about identity when so often kids are told their thoughts and feelings aren’t valid. We finally live in a time that a kid can see an openly LGBTQ+ person host the Tonys. We are so lucky that a young kid can see a woman, who has been nominated five times previously, continue to follow her dreams and finally take home a Tony. We are so lucky to finally live in this time.

… And so am I.

I am incredibly lucky to have theatre in my life. It taught me about diversity from an early age. It taught me discipline. It taught me more than words can express. While I deigned to go to rehearsal in that selfish moment, I now look back and delight in the fact that I was able to create with other people who so wonderfully and passionately commit to their performances. This is what we do—we create so that some kid in the audience, some first-time performer, or even a veteran to the stage can experience the magic.

For a list of this year's Tony winners go here.

Be sure to catch Dream Girls at Trustus Theatre this summer! The show runs June 26-August 1. Go to trustus.org for tickets.

A Case for Staying Online (And Reading More Poetry) by Kirby Knowlton

A poem in the form of status updates sounds like it would read as gimmicky, as if the writer was trying to compensate for hours of procrastination online by using Facebook as inspiration. But Rebecca Lindenberg’s poem “Status Update” is not her taking the easy way out. It’s not cheesy, or flashy, or unintelligent. With lines like, “Rebecca Lindenberg likes poems that don’t necessarily sound sincere but really are,” the poem is distinctly aware of itself and especially of its form, giving it the opportunity to poke fun at some points and reveal truths at others. “Status Update” is a poem I often think about because I think it challenges us to reconsider what deserves to be the subject of poetry, a question that I ask myself every day. I tweet a lot. I tweet some very dumb stuff, but also tiny ideas or observations I have. Wondering what is or isn’t worth sharing makes me very anxious sometimes, to the point where I’ll go back and delete the last five things I said. It seems silly to keep up such a habit if it makes me overthink things so often, but the point is that I’m thinking. Status updates are thoughts, but also fodder for thoughts. Scroll down your newsfeed and what do you see? People’s new babies, new houses, new opinions about the latest current events. Pieces of people’s lives. The things they thought were worth writing down. Is that not the stuff of poetry?

Like with any status update, there’s a narcissistic quality to Lindenberg’s poem. But “Rebecca Lindenberg thinks of poetry as the practice of overhearing yourself.” She arranges these declarations about herself as if they’re observations she picked up elsewhere, considering language and musicality to elevate them from just status updates to poetry. The use of Facebook vocabulary works to her advantage in this. Compare the line “Would like to add you as a friend” to “Loves the smell of dirt gathering in water and the sleep-smell of your morning body.” The two sentiments aren’t that different if you pay attention, if you let yourself overhear the first line to become the interpretation of the second.

Her decision to use this form is braver than it originally appears. She is deciding that the minutiae people share is an important contribution to the world, that the insignificant creates a bigger picture. For as long as it has existed, poetry has been bridging the gaps between people. From writer to reader, reader to another reader, poetry is the written proof of people trying to connect. The medium has changed, but when we post online asking strangers if anyone else loves this, that, or the other, we’re not so different from Walt Whitman calling out to the Americans of the future in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” We’ve all seen the status updates of a user begging for attention, a human connection. Is it any less sincere because it was written online instead of in a book? “Rebecca Lindenberg is lonesome. Is keeping lonesomeness at bay with frequent status updates designed to elicit a thumbs-up icon from you.” We’re all reaching, hoping something will take.

Read the full poem here: http://www.theoffendingadam.com/2011/04/04/status-update-dispatches-from-an-unfinished-world-status-update-2/

The Columbia Broadside Project - Tonight

“Originally we planned on it being a much smaller project that just the three of us and maybe another friend or two would work on. Then we kept saying, ‘I bet so and so would like to work on this. And it went from there.”

Twenty-eight artists and poets come together for The Columbia Broadside Project under the organization of Darien Cavanaugh. The local writer with an MFA from USC had an interest in broadsides since young adulthood through the influence of collaborations by historic and contemporary poets and artists. After seeing a broadside featuring a poem by Albert Goldbrath and a couple beers with friends, the inception of The Columbia Broadside Project began.

“I had plans to start an annual broadside contest at Yemassee, but I got my MFA and left USC before I ever really made any moves on that. Then a few years ago Matt Catoe, Blake Morgan, and I were sitting on the back porch drinking beers and talking about ways we could work together,” Cavanaugh explained. “Morgan was teaching visual art at USC, and Catoe was in that program. I had started getting some poems published in little magazines and journals again. I went inside and grabbed a couple of broadsides and said, ‘How about we do something like this?’"

Three years of planning in, The Columbia Broadside Project is now in its second year and being exhibited at The Columbia Museum of Art after a show at Tapp's Arts Center last year. Through an open call for poets and artists, Cavanaugh was able to gather people to collaborate and work together.

“I don't really judge the aesthetics or style of the work, I just want some evidence that they work fairly regularly. If you can't show me anything you've done recently, and there aren't too many lines on your CV to suggest some creative productivity, then I'm not going to have much faith in you actually working with whoever I partner you with. I want this project to represent a range of styles and aesthetics, from accomplished poets and artists as well as up and comers. I think we do a good job of that,” Cavanaugh says. “That's one of my favorite parts of this project -- seeing all the different styles of art next to each other. So it terms of selecting participants, I just need to know that you'll produce. I'm not here to judge what you produce.”

The artists and poets, after being randomly paired, come together not necessarily to mimic, but rather to create an interpretive relationship.

“There's always a lot in the painting that's not in the text, and vice versa. This connects you to the work in different ways, brings different memories and senses into play. Sometimes when I think of one of the paintings, I'll remember a line from the poem,” Cavanaugh says.

All formalities and explanations aside, this is not merely some attention-seeking project for Cavanaugh. As a self-described “nerd,” Cavanaugh connects with all art, but mostly with writing.

“We live in a cold and isolating world. The arts remind us not only that there is some beauty out there but also that we're capable of creating some of it,” Cavanaugh says. “I've always seen reading and writing as an act of forgiveness, a process of forgiving yourself and others. A good story tricks you into empathizing with characters you might not like by portraying them as complex, vulnerable human beings that you can connect with on some basic level.”

This collective project has its opening reception tonight at The Columbia Museum of Art from 7 to 11. Tickets are $5 for CMA members and $7 for general admission and can be purchased at https://3162.blackbaudhosting.com/3162/tickets?tab=2&txobjid=7df94408-31d7-4f9e-a346-88327b4bead1.

“I just want to throw a blanket thank you out to the Columbia arts scene and everyone who worked on and helped promote this project in any way. This really is a collaborative effort, not just by the artists and writers involved but also by dozens of other people who encourage and inspire us,” Cavanaugh appreciatively states. “I hope that this project introduces artists and writers to a broader audience here in Columbia and maybe even a little beyond our city.”

by Haley Sprankle

Jasper Does Spoleto - part 4, Chamber Music & Chinese Opera

By: Kyle Petersen

One of the many amazing things about Spoleto is the diversity in its music programming, spanning from its acclaimed chamber music series and contemporary opera to noise-jazz and traditional folk music, with everything in between also being represented. While we’ve already written about the charming performance given by Americana duo Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell early on in the festival, we’d like to talk briefly about some of the more highbrow (and quite excellent) music we’ve also been enjoying here.

Bank of America Chamber Music

We caught Program IV of this series last Wednesday and could not have been more satisfied with the experience. Programming director and violinist Geoff Nutall is a stylish and witty emcee whose rapport with the audience was worth the ticket price alone. Leading the patrons through the eclectic line-up of compositions with flair and poise, he kept the audience at ease even as the performances themselves set us back.

Alternating between uber-traditional fare (Mozart’s Sonata in G Major, K. 379, Beethoven’s An die ferne Geliebte, op. 98, and Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto no. 2 in F Major, BWV 1047) and more adventurous compositions from Huang Ruo, whose Chinese performance art opera Paradise Interrupted is also featured at the festival, and 20^th century Russian composer Alfred Schnittke, the program’s variety and shifts in tone and texture presented a fascinating window into the historical breadth of chamber music as well hinting at all of the possibilities and potential that still exist for the format. Nutall and pianist Pedja Muzijevic opened with the virtuosic flurry of notes required for Mozart sonata, only to be followed up by the unusual instrumentation (violin, cello, voice, djembe, bassoon, pipa) required for Ruo’s “Flow… (I and II),” a folk-indebted piece that showcased the pipa, a traditional Chinese lute that we would later also hear used to great effect in Paradise Interrupted.

Next was the husband-and-wife team of baritone Tyler Duncan and pianist Erika Switzer, who took us through the Beethoven song cycle. The couple gave an assured performance, aided by Nutall’s helpful note that the English translation of the lyrics were printed in the program.

My favorite piece on the program, though, was Schnittke’s austere, enigmatic Hymn II, a piece which saw double bassist Anthony Manzo and cellist Christopher Costanza carefully align the movements of their bows as they produced fragile, ghostly timbres and atonal harmonies that prickled the spine.

The concert closed with an ensemble performance of the popular (and canonical) Brandenberg Concerto, with the slight twist of an E-flat clarinet, played by Todd Palmer, taking place of the traditional piccolo trumpet. The performers gave a lovely rendition of the tune, although audience members are more likely to remember the slapstick improv brought on Nutall and, between movements, oboist Austin Smith, who ostentatiously paused the performance to clean out his instrument.

It’s also worth noting that there was a beautiful moment between movements when a scattering of applause broke out, a bit of a faux paus in classical music performances. Not only did the audience, after some uncertainty, begin clapping along with those that jumped the gun, but they were urged on by Nutall, tradition be damned. It was a giddy feeling, and emphasized the warm balance of world class musicianship and casual relatability that defines the series.

Paradise Interrupted

Later that day we caught the evening performance of Ruo Huo and Jennifer Wen Ma’s opera. It’s a bit of an abstract, high-concept piece that melds Chinese traditions with Western idioms that takes place in a dreamlike landscape. The music was breathtaking, particularly the gorgeous performances delivered by Qian Yi, the show’s star, and countertenor John Holiday, whose voice continues to haunt me, but it was hard not to get lost in the cerebral excellence of the set design. Many might remember Wen Ma name from her work on the 2008 Beijing Olympics, where she directed and designed the opening and closing ceremonies, and her work here has a similar mesmerizing effect. Using a large white performance space and unorthodox lighting, as well as a host of large props and trap doors, a vividly unreal world emerges and disappears over the course of the opera that has to function and opera differently given the limitations of each venue it’s performed at. It’s hard not to note that this kind of immersive, multidisciplinary approach is actually what’s needed in an art form too often grasping tenuously to its past.

Chatting About Conundrumfest with Cecil Decker

Conundrum Music Hall is celebrating its 4^th birthday on June 13th with a humdinger of a party, Conundrumfest, a blitzkrieg of a festival featuring 15 bands, 3 comedians, 4 artisans, and 2 food trucks.

Jasper staff writer Michael Spawn caught up with Cecil Decker, a key organizer of the festival who runs sound at the venue and fronts the nerd-rap group Autocorrect along with a variety of noise projects, to chat a bit about the festival. For full details, check out their Facebook event page here.

Jasper: Pretend that I don’t know anything about Conundrumfest and have no idea what it is. Tell me what it is in the simplest way possible.

Cecil Decker: Well, Conundrum is turning four years old and I wanted to have, like, a party, because I like parties. And we decided the best way to do that would be do gather up a bunch of people who have been involved with Conundrum a lot in some way, whether or not their actually involved in working there. People that have just played there so much that it feels like they’re just a part of the place, you know? It’s  a party for anyone who has ever been a part of Conundrum to celebrate it’s still being around.

J: So are you masterminding this thing?

CD: Myself and Jeremy from Daddy Lion, Jeremy Joseph, we’re both sort of the evil masterminds—the brain trust of putting it together. It was sort of an idea I had and I was like, ‘I can’t do this alone.’ And Jeremy had done Villa Villa Cola last year, which was a huge success, and I said, ‘Well, he clearly had a little more experience in this than me.’ You know, I’m used to a little three-band rock show. I don’t if I can handle a fifteen-band all day extravaganza. So he’s been a huge help and between Indie Grits and Conundrumfest it’s been an eventful Spring.

J: How long have you been planning this?

CD: We planted the seed in Tom’s mind probably in January. January and February. Then we kind of backed off a little bit until late March and it’s been sort of full blast since then, just contacting bands, and then you re-contact the bands, because it’s that thing like, ‘You know that thing we talked about two months ago? Can you still do that?’

J: Did you get all the bands that you wanted? Were there any no-thank-yous or no-can-dos?

CD: There were some no-can-does. There weren’t any no-thank-yous. There were, I think, two that couldn’t do it. But it was like, ask everyone and make the event as long as it needs to be for all the bands.

J: What is it about Conundrum itself? What do you think separates it from a New Brookland Tavern or an Art Bar?

CD: Well, as a musician, Conundrum sounds really good. I know there’s some aesthetic and vibe you get from other small venues, but Conundrum sounds really good. Like, the stage sounds good and the room sounds good, and that’s a huge point of pride for us first and foremost.

J: And by us, you mean. . .?

CD: The whole Conundrum consortium. I’m a sound geek and I run sound there. There’s Tom and there’s Jeremy and a couple other people who are behind the scenes. I just mean the Conundrum staff.

J: Is your appreciation for Conundrum purely acoustical?

CD: Well, we’re not a bar, right? Because we’re not first and foremost a bar, we make our money on bringing the arts to people rather than having music shows and selling a lot of liquor. The entire vibe of the places comes from that. You don’t have a show where. . .it will never be Bey’s, right? There’s never a show where you’re playing and there’s not a single person listening. When people roll through, they’re like, ‘Oh, you’re a music venue!’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, you booked a show here.’ So that’s the number one thing. We’re trying to be more arts inclusive. We have artists setting up shop at Conundrumfest—painting and crafts and things they’ve made and we do more film events. It’s still a music hall in name because that’s our primary thing, but we definitely try to be more inclusive to all the arts. The Soda City Cirque did an amazing show there recently. So it’s definitely a place where you don’t ever know what you’re going to see but you know it’s going to be really interesting. We try to bring types of programming that you wouldn’t get at Art Bar or New Brookland. That probably works because we’re smaller than them. It’s a really infinite room and it feels good to be there.

Darling Dilettante: Literature Edition by Haley Sprankle

Remember those books you were supposed to read for school? (Notice how I said “supposed.”) You were forced to analyze, break down, and summarize each story full of heightened, seemingly ancient language. Then, essay after essay, you decided that you never wanted to hear anything about those books (that you probably didn’t even read to begin with) ever again. Well, surprise! I’m here to talk to you about them.

As a student who hated (and still often does) being assigned reading and told how to think of it, I found every way possible to avoid reading books by classic authors like Charles Dickens, William Faulkner, and even sometimes the beloved playwright Mr. William Shakespeare himself. I found it difficult to believe that these books that were written for entertainment were meant for this type of scrutiny instead of paying attention to the beauty of the narrative.

As I got older, however, I swallowed my pride and attempted to participate the way I was expected to in class. I didn’t read everything—and no, kids, I won’t divulge my secrets to success academically in this subject—but I did discover writing that I would soon fall in love with.

My love of literature began while reading Ernest Hemingway’s In Our Time. This compilation of seemingly unrelated short stories initially struck me as a piece that I would not likely deign to read, but I quickly fell in love with the puzzle and challenge of finding the subtext of the stories. Then, like most every high school student, I was handed F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. The layered symbolism and tragic love story—one that would later be added to poor Leonardo DiCaprio’s repertoire of characters who die in the pursuit of their love—drew me in immediately. My senior year, we read Kate Chopin’s The Awakening, a tale of female empowerment and self-discovery with an adulterous twist that surprised me with its controversial subject matter of the time.

After high school, I began to pursue literature of my own accord, and have fallen in love with so many stories that are so often written off as classwork. In the hopes of continuing this pursuit fervently, and that others may join me, I have created a summer reading list. Crazy, right? I have plenty of teachers who would be shocked and can attest to my historical hatred of them, but I am a changed woman. All jokes aside, here is a list of books I’ve either started to read, should be embarrassed that I haven’t read, or simply take a genuine interest in because that’s what books are for:

• Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
• Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin
• Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
• This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald
• Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austin
• To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
• A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
• The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
• The Scarlett Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
• The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

While this is a rather ambitious list to tackle over the summer, it also shows me that no matter how intelligent I might think I am, there is a sea of knowledge that I’ve clearly just dipped my toe in. I hope to delve into this world of books, both old and new, throughout the summer and the year, and I hope that you’ll join me!

Leave a comment if you have any book suggestions, or to update your progress on the list!

Some Words on Words by Kirby Knowlton

Every time my grandmother goes to the movies, she tells me about the previews. She tells me in detail about the ones that caught her interest, how maybe she’ll go see this one or that one when it comes out, almost a promise of more previews for her to tell me about. This is what she always says: Can you believe there’s still new movies coming out? It amazes her that all the ideas haven’t been thought of yet, that people are still out there creating and recreating. Among so much change and after so much time in her life, she still loves movies. Columbia-born Terrance Hayes wrote a line that I’m always coming back to. His poem “God is an American” starts simple, with the honesty of saying what you’ve been meaning to this whole time. “I still love words.” I think of this first line when my grandmother is amazed that she still has movies to see, when in reading a new poem or short story, I find traces of one I’ve read before, when I’m thinking to myself in the car or shower. I’m always thinking about this line because it’s one of the truest that I’ve read, and like my grandmother admires the people writing and creating new movies, I admire Hayes for starting with something that seems so obvious.

Hayes has been writing for a long time. Humans have been writing much longer than that. Language is all we have to explain our thoughts, our ideas, our beliefs. When everyone has to share the same building blocks, isn’t it amazing every single time something new is created? Or when something old is recreated? Because that’s all we’re doing. Creating and borrowing and rearranging and making new again. After so much has already been written, I still love words. That I can dismantle the words of another, host them in my head, the car, the shower, until I can use them as building blocks of my own.

Later in the poem, Hayes writes, “Schadenfreude may be the best way to name the covering / of adulthood, the powdered sugar on a black shirt.” I am not an adult, though I’m getting there in the way we try to remember forgotten words: desperately without success, and then in single, random moments, it’s all right there. There are days we don’t have words for. There are days we have four-letter words for. There are moments we can’t get through but to borrow joy from another person’s pain, small cruelties to hold onto like a smooth stone in your pocket. There are moments when I need someone else’s words to understand what’s happening. Yes, schadenfreude because everyone is a little bit of an asshole at their core. But also schadenfreude through words, reading about the past pain of another to benefit your present.

I’m not yet an adult, but my patience is already wearing thin. When someone says what they’ve been meaning to say, I still love words. When a stranger on the street says something kind instead of harassing, I still love words. When I read something to help guide the way, I still love words. “A word can be the boot print / in a square of fresh cement and the glaze of morning.” A word can be anything, and we owe it everything. Where would we be without them, our little building blocks to create nations, suggest movies, or reflect on what they’ve given us?

Read the full poem here: https://www.guernicamag.com/poetry/three_poems_1/

Jasper Does Spoleto - part 3, Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell @ TD Arena Review

There’s always something a bit odd about seeing music outside of its natural context. For the organic folk and country made by Americana royalty Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell, the music is best heard in a small listening room or, barring that, a cozy theater.

That disconnect might be why it felt a little awkward for the first few songs the duo played with their five-piece backing band on Tuesday night. Opening with a cover of Lucinda William’s “I Just Wanted to See You So Bad” and few other more rollicking numbers, the music sounded both a little thin and a little boomy in TD Arena, hardly descriptors that naturally come to mind when thinking about either artist’s work. Crowell and Harris handled whatever sound struggles there might have been gracefully though, and things settled in after a while.

The duo, whose musical partnership dates back to 1975, when Crowell wrote a few songs and played rhythm guitar in Harris’s The Hot Band, were touring in support of their two duo records, the Grammy Award-winning Old Yellow Moon from 2013 and the recently-released The Traveling Kind, so a decent chunk of the set covered songs from those records, but there seemed to be relatively little formula for how the show unfolded. The ease with which Harris, 68, and Crowell, 64, led their band and joked playfully in between songs drew the show as close as it could to that listening room vibe, and it was clear how and why these guys are world-class entertainers. Both are still in such fine vocal form that you almost forget how many years they’ve been at it, even as they jokingly remind you of their long history. Upstate native Fayssoux McLean, who sang harmonies on those early Hot Band records, was in attendance and got a couple of shout-outs from Harris, but there was relatively little ceremonial about the proceedings as the two talked about playing in a hotel lobby at the Kerrville Folk Festival a few weeks ago and kidded Spoleto about having a festival indoors.

The informality of presentation was belied by the fairly studied nature of the songs themselves. Harris still, forty years later, grounds much of set in the songs of Gram Parsons, with “Return of the Grievous Angel” and “Love Hurts” both given lovely readings with Crowell taking the place of Parsons and Harris re-creating the unforgettable harmonies that dominated those recordings. Other highlights include her plaintive interpretation of Townes Van Zandt’s “Pancho & Lefty” and a mesmerizing encore of Parson’s “Hickory Wind,” which she told the audience she only plays when performing in South Carolina. Much of the material on the new record sounded positively effervescent as well, with the elegiac “The Traveling Kind,” the classic country shuffle “No Memories Hanging Round” and the Harris ballad “Higher Mountains” being particular standouts.

These more tender moments were balanced by a clearly talented backing band that played purposefully restrained for much of the evening only to charge through a few dazzling solos near the end of the set. Australian lead guitarist Jedd Hughes was particularly spectacular, throwing down a boisterous rock solo at the end of the night that nearly upended the even-keeled signature performance style that Crowell and Harris are known for.

When the duo returned for the “Hickory Wind”/”Old Yellow Moon” encore, though, a hushed reverence returned to the proceedings. Hearing voices this good, playing songs this good, was ultimately all this night was about.