SPOLETO BUZZ BLOG

I had to leave Grace Church, Mozart, Villaume, and John Kennedy early, though, since I wanted to be at another church, the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, for the 6pm start of Piccolo Spoleto’s tribute to Robert T. Jones. Bob was the Post and Courier’s Spoleto overview critic from the festival’s earliest days, traveling to Charleston each year from New York City to do the job Blair Tindall is doing this year. In the early 90s, he and his longtime partner Jorge retired in Charleston, and he began writing a bi-weekly column on the arts in Charleston for the P&C in addition to his Spoleto coverage. During that time, while I was the editor of Charleston Magazine, I became friends with Bob when I hired him to write a retrospective feature for the magazine on his (at that time) nearly 20 years covering the Spoleto Festival for the P&C. Bob certainly had some stories to tell about the festival: seeing artists like Renee Fleming, Yo Yo Ma, Bobby McFerrin and many others play there for the first time, before they were household names, and other tales, not all of them fit for print in a family paper. It’s very likely that Bob saw more of the Spoleto Festival than any other human being, living or dead. He had a sharp wit and an equally sharp pen, and he was a good friend. So it was important to me to be at the Tribute Concert Ellen Dressler Moryl had scheduled as part of Piccolo’s Spotlight Concert Series.

Moryl gave a few brief remarks, then ceded the floor to longtime Post and Courier writer Carol Furtwangler, one of Bob’s best friends. Carol spoke eloquently about her friendship with Bob, ending with her hope that he “awaits us in whatever dimension music eternally plays.”

Afterward, members of the Chamber Music Society of Charleston performed beautiful renditions of Samuel Barber’s timeless Adagio for Strings, Philip Glass’ String Quartet No. 2 (a favorite of mine), a suite for wind sextet from Leos Janacek, and Hector Villa-Lobos’s Last Distribution of Flowers for flute and guitar. It was a touching farewell, one of many gestures Piccolo and Spoleto adminstrators have made this year to acknowledge Bob’s too-early death and his enormous contribution to Charleston and the two festivals.

Taken together, the two afternoon concerts also highlighted the importance of local churches to Piccolo and Spoleto. When you can’t get an expensive new symphony hall built, you gotta use what you’ve got. And churches certainly have the acoustics for classical music. Just don’t expect to sit comfortably in them for long.

Here what it looked like yesterday at Grace Church (left) and the Cathedral (right).

On Friday at 2pm, I went to St. Johannes Lutheran Church on Anson Street to see a special event: the Celtic fiddle ensemble Na Fidleiri, comprised of 25 fiddles, guitars, banjos, mandolins, assorted other Celtic instrumentation and singer, all directed by Mary Scott Taylor — wife of the very talented Robert Taylor, who himself is director of the CofC Concert Choir, the Madrigal Singers, and is CSO Choral Director. I imagined that the concert was part of Piccolo’s Folk & Fret Series, which is why I was at St. Johannes Lutheran Church. When I arrived on Anson Street at 1:59pm, though, and saw all the available parking in front of the church, it became clear I’d imagined wrong.

Silly Spoletian, I thought to myself. This event is at Charleston Music Hall, not St. Johannes Lutheran Church.

As it turns out, Na Fidleiri was in fact performing at the Circular Congregational Church yesterday, not at either of the other two locations. At Charleston Music Hall, though, I found the Lovell Sisters on the stage, so I decided to make do with what I had in front of me. I’d like to have seen Na Fidleiri, but poor organizational skills, the hassle of parking, and a brain cloudy from two weeks of non-stop festival-going had brought me to Charleston Music Hall, so I decided to go with the current rather than bucking it.

It was a happy mistake, it turns out. I’d planned to catch the Lovell Sisters’ fusion of bluegrass, folk, country and contemporary acoustic music at noon on Saturday, but Friday worked just fine for me, seeing as how I was already there. I hope Sheri Grace Wenger is pleased with the turnout for her programming at the Music Hall, which also includes Quintango Cabaret, Blue Plantation, John Brannen, and the music theatre events A Chorus Line, The Rock and Roll Heaven Show (big shout-out to my lovely friend Tiffany Coleman in that one), Unforgettable, and Always … Patsy Cline. There was a huge crowd at the Friday matinee concert, which suggests she’s doing pretty well. Hope so.

The Lovell Sisters consist of 14-year-old Rebecca on mandolin, 15-year-old Megan on Dobro, and 19-year-old pre-med student Jessica on violin, with all of them also on vocals. They’re backed up by Joshua Miller on guitar and banjo, and Jess Holloway on bass. The five of them made great, toe-tapping music, and the three girls performed (and worked the audience) in a manner well beyond their years. If Jessica becomes a doctor, she’ll have missed her calling. The three girls and Joshua chatted with audience members (mostly the young girls) and signed autographs in the lobby afterward. When Jessica said, “Thanks for coming, really,” she looked right into the eyes of the person she was talking to and you could see she meant it.

I had no idea going into Tuesday night’s Scheer and McBrayer show that Paul Scheer is the kinda-strange-looking, gap-toothed guy who makes pithy comments on any of VH1’s endless “I Love The …” and “Best Week Ever” shows. So it would be safe to say that when I realized this, I did a bit of inner groaning (never thought he was one of the funniest commentators). However, I was swiftly proven wrong once he and Jack McBrayer launched into their almost nonstop-hilarious 45-minute improv set at the American Theatre. Scheer’s portrayals of numerous characters in one skit (including a wonderfully-accented Kelly Clarkson imitation) were totally unexpected and quite a treat. Like many of today’s young comedians, they’ve figured out that a little office humor goes a long way; McBrayer’s portrayal of your typical 20-something “dude” at the office and Scheer’s 40-something guy realizing he’s wasting his life away (trust me, it was funny) earned enthusiastic (and empathetic?) claps from the audience. These two make a great comedy team, with McBrayer’s Everyguy adorableness providing a perfect foil for Scheer’s more eccentric vibe. Two thumbs up, see them before you make an ass out of yourself trying to figure out how you know Scheer (”Hey, did you work at the Dairy Queen in Fayetteville or somethin’? I SWEAR I’ve seen you before…”)

Bill Davis and I had words about his review of the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, in which he panned their Thurs., June 2 show. I went to see the Trachtenburgs on Saturday afternoon, and despite a few technical glitches that seemed to plague them throughout their run at the festival, I was highly amused and entertained the whole time. Jason, the dad, was effortlessly funny and cute in his nebbishness, and Rachel, the 11-year-old drummer/daughter, ably handled the drums AND singing harmony in her tiny child’s voice. The slides were funny and the stories Jason told added that extra zing to the proceedings. I’ll definitely be seeing the Trachtenburgs again the next time they come through town, technical problems be damned!

–Sara Miller

I was a little bit late to Monday’s installment of Piccolo’s early Music Series at First (Scots) Presbyterian Church, featuring Charleston Pro Musica in a program entitled “Greatest Hits of the Renaissance,” so I missed the introduction of all the players. And, unfortunately, there was no printed program. But the lineup included seven musicians — Steve Rosenberg on a variety of small guitars, a percussionist, a violin, and cello, and a trio who played a variety of the fun, unusual-looking woodwinds that are particular to that era. There were also two vocalists, one of whom I believe was Jose Lemos, but don’t hold me to it. The crowd was a good one, and I once I’d taken my seat I remembered immediately why it was I used to so enjoy catching Steve Rosenberg’s troupe at the CofC’s Monday Night Concert Series as often as I could. Early Music, of course, is stuff that predates “classical” music as we know it — generally dating from the beginning of the Baroque preiod back to the onset of human history, though there was no rock banging at yesterday’s concert). They played Renaissance-era folk music from all over the world, though my own favorites were weighted toward the British Isles and the Middle East. The sizeable crowd were clearly no strangers to this music, and they had a great time with songs like “The Raggle Haggle Gypsy” and “Alas, I Lie Alone.”

Well, I missed Baby Wants Candy’s second performance today because of the rain, and I’m not happy about it. Sure, I could have tried to go in late, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in a decade or so of friendship with Greg, Timmy, and Brandy of The Have Nots!, it’s to never, ever, ever walk into an improv comedy show late and by yourself. Baby Wants Candy is already being hailed as the must-see Piccolo event of the festival’s second week — and having seen them the last time they were here, two years ago, and I know damn well that I must see them again. That may not be able to happen until the end of the week, though. They’re performing again tomorrow (Monday) at 5 pm, but being there would mean missing the fourth and final installment of Spoleto’s Conversations With series — and with Mabou Mines DollHouse director Lee Breuer on the hotseat for host Martha Teichner’s grilling tomorrow, I have no intention of missing tha chance to see him discuss the many incarnations his play has taken since it opened a little over a week ago.

Also I’ll be spending most of the early evenings this week at PURE Theatre rehearsing a short play I wrote and am directing there, called “Eight Grand,” for Thursday evening’s original short play showcase A Perfect Ten (an evening of ten 10-minute plays). More on that later. Right now I’m off to see the Festival Concert. And I really don’t want to be late.

Hilary Chaplain’s clown act is much better than the lackluster Piccolo audiences she has to work with. -JC

Send in the Clown
Hilary Chaplain’s show works, despite reluctant audience
By Jennifer Corley

Hilary Chaplain, creator and star of the clown theatre piece A Life in Her Day, pretty much said it in our preview article: her audience is like her partner. And afternoon audiences aren’t usually your most enthusiastic and interactive crowd. This group on Friday afternoon could have been worse, though. There were a couple people who were actively into it. But when your “partner” isn’t as committed as you are, no matter how hard you try, your show isn’t going to be a mighty force. Chaplain does, however, inventively present a lovely and humorous portrait of a person who wants the same thing as everyone else — to be loved.

Chaplain, who primarily trained with famous clown Avner Eisenberg, has a wonderfully charming face and inviting manner. She welcomes people into her topsy-turvy world, where it’s perfectly normal to babysit infants made of paper towels and congratulate a woman on her marriage to an inanimate object.

The show begins with Chaplain snoring away in her upright bed, sawing logs as her dog (a cute puppet which she manipulates very well, with excellent timing) looks on in frustration. Her morning stretches, which are endearing but go on a bit long, lead into her realizing something is amiss and she falls out of bed (her “birth,” if you will) and begins her journey of a day.

She wears a bright red unionsuit with matching slippers, and she has little red spirals weaved into her brunette ringlets. She wears rather enormous fake hips which lend a funny bit of character. She makes creative use of not only the paper towel roll, but a Snowball snack treat and a lamp shade as well.

While pouring a bowl of cereal, out pops a prize: a big diamond ring. Lucky Charms indeed. In a very funny engagement scene, we see her neediness, her desire for love, and Chaplain’s talent for comedy and audience interaction. And it truly is a scene which depends on the willingness of the audience members to participate in her game, which is nothing embarrassing like so many other torturous pieces of theatre.

The ensuing wedding scene is probably the best part of the show, as she does an ingenious and resourceful move to bring her husband to life and give an extra layer of humor to her piece. And it keeps the audience in stitches. She even takes the audience along with her on her imaginary honeymoon, where she gets a bit tipsy and becomes befuddled trying to figure out a bikini bottom.

Like many a respectable honeymoon, hers results in pregnancy. The delivery of her paper towel babies is extremely creative. As she pretends to be a rabbi (bringing two of her ringlets around in front of her ears), she handles a bris quite efficiently.

Her face is amazingly elastic. Aside from the various funny faces that elicit laughs, there are also the more touching expressions she makes that tug at our hearts. Like the one where she acknowledges the end of her marriage — with a simple knowing shrug of a look to the crowd, we empathize with her immediately.

The crowd has to have empathy to interact in a way that a performer wants. The crux of any piece of fringe mime theatre worth its salt is that it takes a while to warm up an audience, but clown shows can’t last too long by nature. So once the performer has the audience in her hands, it’s time to let them go. At least Chaplain doesn’t try to get the audience to hum for her until the latter part of the show.

ALIHD works on two levels, which is good for Chaplain, especially when considering tails in the seats: even though it’s not billed as a kids’ show, kids would surely get a kick out of it. (Chaplain thinks it’s appropriate for children 5 or 6 and up.) And the mature, experienced themes behind her antics will be what stays with the adults when they leave the theatre.

Her character ends her day the way she began it, returning to her upright bed to snooze away. We’re left to know, especially with the title, that she will replay this sort of action tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. It’s beautifully funny and sad, and very human. We all go through these same cycles, and we all mime them, in a way, like Chaplain’s character. Who hasn’t at some point simply gone through the motions and then realized something significant was finished, no matter what the situation may have been? Chaplain’s show, even when her “partner” is a little behind, even when some parts could pick up a bit, is still strong in theme and talent, and one would do well to see a good piece of clown theatre while one can.

Grade: B
A nostalgic trip down memory lane for the boomer generation

Motown Revisited
Local talents get it on at That ’60s Soul Show
by Sara Miller

The aptly titled That ‘60s Soul Show delivers on its promise, entertaining the mostly middle-aged audience with a two-hour set of faithful renditions of classic hits from Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin, Stevie Wonder, and other Motown-era artists.

That ‘60s Soul Show relies heavily on the vocal talents of local singers Bobby Alvarez, Quiana Parler, and Amanda Morris to stand in for the aforementioned legends, and they are all acceptable substitutes.

Organizer Lawson Roberts was wise to set this event up at Bar 145, which has a great cabaret atmosphere. The stage seemed a bit crowded, with an excellent horn section, a precise drummer (or two, when Alvarez grabbed the bongos) and arranger Taras Kovayl on keyboards, but this problem was overcome by having the singers appear onstage one at a time for most of the show.

The horn section really kept things rolling and added that extra authentic ’60s touch to the production, providing wonderful trumpet and sax solos at just the right times. It was, however, a little strange when only one of the singers was onstage and background vocals seemed to materialize out of thin air (the other singers were behind a curtain at the side of the stage.)

The volume was turned way up, almost to an uncomfortable level, but the trio of singers deserved to be heard. All three of them have soulful voices and an obvious love for the music they’re singing; as the only male vocalist, Alvarez had to cover a lot of different singers and always looked and acted like he was having a damn good time doing it.

Song highlights included Alvarez’s “My Girl,” during which he hit some incredibly high notes spot-on, the trio singing together on “Midnight Train to Georgia,” and anytime Parler took on the persona of the Queen of Soul (“R-E-S-P-E-C-T,” “Natural Woman”).

There was a long, long intro before Alvarez launched into “Let’s Get It On,” giving everyone more than enough time for the Viagra to kick in. While Alvarez has a strong, talented voice, pulling off Marvin Gaye is a tall order — his spirited determination almost gets him there, but it’s pretty tough to replicate the master of soul.

After the intermission, Parler came out and wowed the crowd as Michael Jackson in his younger, more innocent days, tearing through “I Want You Back” and “ABC.” About the only time the show slowed down was during a Morris/Parler duet on a languorous version of The Shirelles’ “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow,” which Roberts mentioned was inspired by VH1’s Divas Live show.

Throughout the evening, Alvarez worked hard to get the crowd going, and they repaid him with handclaps, hoots, and hollers, and the occasional dance breakout. The show was remarkably similar to listening to a ’60s soul compilation CD or oldies radio before they started adding all that rock ’n’ roll from the ’70s — and hence perfect for parents and grandparents, or anyone with a love for classic soul hits.

If you’re looking to find the funny in this year’s festival, you’ve got a cornucopia of options. Spoleto’s Solo Turns series has already showcased two of the most entertaining monologuists I’ve seen in years: Mike Daisey (The Ugly American) and Hazelle Goodman (On Edge). But Spoleto’s stuff tends to be too highbrow to really bust a gut over (those two were happy exceptions); all the real laughs come from the direction of Piccolo Spoleto’s several theatre series. And among those, the heavyweights are Second City, back this year for at least their seventh or eighth consecutive Piccolo appearance, and the new kids on the block: Theatre 99’s Piccolo Fringe at the American Theater, which features not just hometown faves The Have Nots! (who produce the whole shebang) but some of the biggest hitters from around the country, too, including Jack McBrayer, Chicago-based musical-theatre improv masters Baby Wants Candy, and New York improvisers Upright Citizens Brigade.

If Second City is Chicago’s claim to national comedy fame, then UCB is New York’s. I thought it would be interesting to catch the two group’s performances in a single afternoon and do a little compare/contrast. Second City was first up, over at Physicians Auditorium. The six-person tourco did a little improvising, but the bulk of the two-hour show featured prepared, rehearsed skits, some of which had the matinee audience in hysterics, others of which landed with a dull thud (of these, one particularly comes to mind: a skit in which God awakens from a binge drunk begun on his post-Creation “day of rest” to find Jesus was trapped on Earth for 33 years without any way to get back home to heaven, stalling for time by “making shit up,” finally killing and resurrecting himself out of desperation; I was laughing, but I sounded like a lunatic in a mausoleum). Other efforts met with more success; a bit where a male character blew into the foot of a limp female character until she slowly stiffened to become a blow-up sex doll, mouth open in an “O” and arms outstretched, was one of the afternoon’s biggest, and simplest, hits. But in the second half they tanked with an interminable improvised skit about a public radio program on spiders, which bored for nearly 15 minutes. The Second Citiers also seemed to have low energy on Friday; maybe it was the matinee audience, which was surely not in the same spirits as the group’s usual 9pm crowds, who are half drunk to begin with.

An hour later, at the American Theater, I caught a 6pm show from Upright Citizens Brigade. (I noticed this was the first Piccolo Fringe show I’d been to this year that wasn’t sold out; the place was about three-quarters full. Though I did hear that the Have Nots! show following it had been sold out all day.)

The first half of UCB’s show was a 30-minute sketch about a Christian Youth Camp meeting hosted by two typically cheeseball reformed and ‘born-again’ former sinners, who try to relate to the youthful Christians by talking ‘hip’ and using cornball catchphrases like ‘Christicanity.’ One of the speakers was, of course, the former lead singer of the Buggles, who wrote the very first MTV music video tune “Video Killed the Radio Star.” It was sidesplitting, eye-wiping stuff, top professional grade. (Although I can guarantee that if they performed that skit at every show, angry letters would be pouring in to the Piccolo office and local op/ed pages; they came down vastly harder on Christian types than even Second City had in their skit.)

The second half of UCB’s intermissionless 60-minute show was pure long-form improv — but what improvising this was. (A citywide weed drought had four friends attacking a fifth friend who arrived with a tiny bud; seeing there wasn’t enough to go around, they drilled a hole in his head and, since he was already high, smoked him. Naturally they inhaled some of his memories, too. “Man, I didn’t realize what a depressing life he’s had.” “That’s what I call a paper-thin optimism.”)

Upshot: the Second City gang, who are no slouches, couldn’t touch what the UCB guys were pulling off. Not yesterday, anyway.

Spoeaking of poetry (see previous post), on Friday I finally made it to the Charleston Ballet Theatre Brown Bag & Ballet program I’d missed earlier in the week — the one featuring Jill Bahr’s very cool work “Poetry with a Spash of Red Blood,” set to the music of Philip Glass from his score to the 1985 James Schrader film Mishima. (See my earlier post on this ballet here.)

There were two other works on the program, in addition to “Poetry”: Bahr’s “Captured Angel” and Toussaint’s “Sovenance,” both of which I enjoyed, with Jennifer Balcerzak giving a standout performance in each. But I was there to see “Poetry”; I’d first seen it something like eight or nine years ago, when CBT performed it at the Sottile Theatre. It was my first experience with the music of Philip Glass, and without getting too heavy or anything, it was a transformative experience for me. The short 12 or 13-minute noirish work is set to several of Glass’ songs from his Mishima score, but the one that anchors it is “Runaway Horses (Poetry Written With a Splash of Blood),” a beautiful work for string quartet and harp that ends with a startling scresendo of Glass’ trademark minimalism and overlapping harmonics, while a row of nooses have decended from the ceiling at the rear of the stage behind the dancers. It’s really, really, really cool, and it’s only in Program I of Brown Bag and Ballet at CBT.

Gardner Guess, Charleston’s biggest fan of comedy, is back on the blog today. (You’ve seen Gardner bagging groceries at Harris Teeter downtown and tromping around town in his trademark floppy hat.) Here’s what he had to say about what he’s seen at the fringe and in Piccolo.

Thursday, June 2

1. Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, 7 p.m. American Theater
“I really liked it … it was a rollercoaster of pure fun … A+”
(In fairness, it should be noted that Gardner, during a Q&A with the family/band, asked them how long they’d been together.)

2. The Best of National No Shame Theatre, 9:30 p.m., Theatre 220
“I really thought they were really amazing … A+ … I’ve liked just about everything I’ve seen this year.”
( In fairness, it should be noted Gradner dozed off several times during the show; something Dottie Ashley would never do.)

Sunday, May 29

1. Second City, 6 p.m., Physicians Auditorium
“I loved it, they were so awesome and everyone of them was so talented; it was really cool and very funny … I’m glad you sent me to it … A+.”

Saturday, May 28

1. Man 1, Bank 0, 5:30 p.m., American Theater
“What an amazing story … that never could have happened to me; I would never have been able to [cash a bank check for $90,000] … A+.”

2. Upright Citizens Brigade, 9 p.m., American Theater
“Now they were really funny, I almost wet my pants they were so funny; like everything I’ve seen this year they were so good … A+.”