A Critical Essay on Pauline Kael: She’s sassy and she knows it

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New York Times Defense: Afghani Ensemble Visits "Bolero"

On Wednesday Mara and Colin will be covering Anthony Tommasini’s review of the Afghanistan National Institute of Music rendition“Bolero” by Maurice Ravel.

Tommasini is the chief music critic at the New York Times as of 2000, first joining the staff in 1996.

This music critic actually began as a professor at Emerson College in Boston, but after being denied of tenure he pursued music criticism.

We’re going to analyze how Tommasini targets his audience, and how he introduces new vocabulary of traditional Afghani music and its instruments without alienating his readers.

One of the reasons why we’re defending this piece is because of the word choice used to describe the feelings evoked from the foreign instrumentation.

Tommasini describes the unfamiliar sounds of these instruments with familiar comparisons (“Or the sarod, another plucked Afghan instrument [...] could bend the blue-notes of the melody with the yearning of a Billie Holiday”).

We’re also going to explore the use of diction, assonance and consonance, as well as meter (“plucked like a lute to produce a sound both tender and tart”).

Lastly, we’re going to appraise the cultural context Tommasini adds to the review; he draws awareness to social climate of Afghanistan with quotes from Mohammad Asif Nang.

Link.

Delicious Breakfast Done Sunny Side Down

On a sunny Saturday morning, nothing is more relaxing than breakfast in bed, except for maybe a more practical option: breakfast downtown.  Keyword: maybe. Toast, a breakfast café in metro-Detroit, offers delicious morning treats but lacks the warmth and comfort of home.

Despite its bright and funky vibe, Toast offers no neighborly greeting.  The collection of bold colors and vintage toasters makes the joint look trendy, but the hostess-manager is no morning-person, and unlikely a day or night person too. 

However, a case of the grumps did not dispirit the jolly breakfast-goers.  People of all ages and appetites clumsily stacked themselves in the waiting ‘hallway’ for a table. And they sure did have a reason to wait. 

An aroma of cinnamon, doughy French toast, dazzled with fresh blueberries, black berries and raspberries, topped with grandma’s homemade whipping cream, teased nostrils as it danced around tabletops. 

This popular dish, served with breakfast essentials (sausages, bacon, ham) is one of the many funky choices on a menu made for meat lovers, sweet tooths and vegetarians alike. 

According to the server and a friendly regular, a favorite dish is the “Blackstone Benny.”  The poached egg, with a satisfactory ETA of 10 minutes, was a tiny bit undercooked, but its combination with bacon, tomato, and hollandaise, all neatly placed over a sourdough baguette, atone for any minor flaws.

The creamy, mellow-in-flavor hollandaise sauce is a matchless companion.  Like butter to toast, it did not steal the spotlight from the sizzling apple-smoked bacon and the wholeness of the sourdough, but rather it tied flavors together.

Although the baguette could have been crispier to juxtapose the perfection of the succulent yolk, the crust had the right crunch.  The choice of sides, either Parmesan encrusted grits or a medley of crisp redskin potato home fries, seasoned with herbs and spices, would leave any stomach satisfied.  (Note: the house recommendation is the home fries; a Goldilocks pleaser that is not ‘too hot’ and not ‘too bland.’)

Even though the chitchat of morning news and clatter of coffee mugs and silverware may be a burden to enjoy a conversation, the flavorful breakfast and lunch menu certainly keeps mouths occupied. 

Toast offers breakfast fit for a Queen, only without all of the pampering.  Just beware of morning grumps and a 15-20 minute wait. 

…Oh and the king-sized, mouth-watering ooey, gooey cinnamon roll that fits ever so perfectly into a to-go box.

The "Woulda-Coulda" Sherlock Holmes Review

In order to review Sherlock Holmes: The Last Adventure I would need a program to orient myself with the actors.  As McLeese states, theatre is an “actor’s medium.”  The same production could have been in Grand Rapids that same night, but it would have been different based on the cast of the show. 

With a background on the actors, I will be able to analyze their performance and compare it to a range of their ability (other characters they took on in past productions) or lack there of.  I would also be interested to see if anyone has worked with each other before in a set because this might help me understand some stage dynamics: either awkward interactions or smooth exchanges. 

For example, it seemed like Watson and Sherlock weren’t the most relaxed with each other, whereas Sherlock and other characters such as the King or Irene intermingled comfortably.  Instead of just commenting on Watson’s acting abilities, I would like to know more about him: is he new to Kalamazoo’s Civic Theatre?  Is this a role where he stepped out of his comfort zone? 

McLeese explains that theatre is more comparable to “concerts or dance recitals” as opposed to “film” because “movies remain the same every time it’s shown.  But live performances offer the possibility of differences…each night.”  For this reason, I would consider it wise to go see the performance two times before I write my overall review.  I can still use my “gut reaction” that I had after the first performance, but I also would have done my “research” by comparing the consistency of the two nights and analyzing if the theatre made some critical changes after the prior performance. 

Theatre seems like it is a learning process.  Productions ranging from Shakespeare to not-so-famous play writers such as Ionesco are reproduced throughout time.  It would make sense to compare an old viewing of a similar production in order to understand the director’s flair or the venue’s vibe.  For example, does the director decide to follow a flexible manuscript that changes with modernity, or stick to a rigid original?  Is the vibe of the theatre more of a classic, high chandelier, formal setting to match with the latter style of the director?  Since there are adaptations out there, I would think it best to use all of the resources available.  For all the audience member knows, the play could be perfectly fine but the acting was abysmal, or vice versa.  By comparing more than one production, the review would be more reliable.

I have been to the theatre quite a few times in my childhood; I have even been on the stage a handful of times.  It was kind of bizarre at first, walking into a formal theatre setting with an empty auditorium. It was difficult to put myself in the mindset that I was out to see a production.  Even though the beginning may have started off a little bit slow, I soon fell into my typical, zombie like trance (I cannot EVER take my eyes off of a television screen) towards the middle-end of the first Act.  It seemed like my mind and those of the actors were in sync, we started off not really “in character” to go see a play or to perform one, and then as we got more comfortable throughout the evening we embraced our respective roles.

McLeese also notes that important elements of the show are “lighting, staging, pacing, sets, costumes,” and while I am not too familiar with this technical vocabulary, if I were to have seen the production twice, I could make more of an assertion regarding the effect of these characteristics.  Also with a comparison, I would be able to witness the critical eye of the director and his or her effect on the show, because I would know if an error was corrected from the night before.

For me, film reviews seem to be more challenging than a theatre review.  Film, as McLeese mentions, never changes.  It has an infinite amount of “takes” to perfect its image and the actor, director, set-coordinator all sort of blend together as one.  However for a theatre production, all eyes are on the actor, from the front row to the nose bleed section.  This is a lot more pressure on the talent of the actor; he or she cannot rely on a scene “cut” until the curtain falls.

When reviewing theatre, I would be mindful that Broadway productions and downtown plays are different, just like small-budget documentary films and Hollywood blockbusters.  The role as a theatre critic versus a film critic involves more of the feeling aroused by the actors, the interactions between the actors and the environment of the performance, and in a film review, direct relations to the venue or interaction between characters would not be as effective because of the physical detachedness from the actors and the audience.   

Theatre adds an extra layer of excitation to the experience because actors only have one chance for each line.  If they have a brain freeze or stumble on a prop, they have to work through it and maintain composure and character.  In theatre, actors do not have the luxury to request a Venti decaf, 2 shots of espresso, skim, blended with ice every time they need a break; the only break they get is “a leg.”

Discomforting thought...

Life goes on.

Duffield Caron Project: The Piano Man

“I got ramblin’, ramblin’ all on my mind,” sings the conventional yet satisfying voice of Lorraine Caron, sporting a brimmed top hat.  Pianist Tom Duffield does more than accompany her; he strokes the keys with soulful fervor in a tribute to the legendary bluesman, Robert Leroy Johnson. 

The Duffield and Caron Project would be just another local blues duo, but the harmony between the piano and the soul that conducts it arouses snaps, foot taps, and a sass that only the “boogie-woogie blues” can summon. 

Old Dog Tavern, a quaint, eccentric bar, appeals to the mellow music that it hosts.  The duo performs every Saturday evening at five, and on Tuesday nights, Duffield flies solo.   

The venue, decked out in its eclectic decorations (moose heads and vintage whisky bottles), and its relaxed serving staff make it an appealing scene for a range of all ages (--especially those over 21, with their $3 Captains and $5 Wine Saturday specials).      

The band kicks off the evening with a sultry classic, B.B. King’s “Since I Met You Baby.”  As the show goes on, the pair covers a medley of blues, jazz, and traditional classics and dabbles in a few of their own originals. 

Tributes are well chosen fan favorites, the crowd intermittently whistles along, but the monotone and occasional twang of Caron’s voice tends to muffle the melancholic vibrations of the blues.  With a decent range, she keeps the night safe and light-hearted. 

Regulars love her; she waves and sends compliments their way during show, which doesn’t really work when covering Hank Williams, “I’m So Lonesome, I Could Cry.”

Caron is a perfect host and full of compassion, but blues is no place for flattery.  The anchor of the night was Duffield.  Wherever Caron’s voice does not quite hit the spot, he makes up for with a funky trill or with a resonating arpeggio.  As Caron stays in the same pitch, Duffield makes it a thing to crescendo con brio through an array of scales.

After a quick interview during intermission, Duffield comments that he “likes to share the feeling with the crowd.”  From white-haired blues veterans in sweater vests and walking canes to college-students in plaid button downs and wool scarves, the “feeling” is relived and passed on. 

Duffield, as his fingers glide upscale across the piano keys to expose each octave in one stroke, captures the very essence of the blues, with one hand.  Single-handedly. 

“Django Unchained”: Slavery is no satire

“Django Unchained” is clearly a Quentin Tarantino production: from painting walls with blood to a bullet that launches “Miss Laura” like a spitball across the room—and throw in a twenty-minute massacre of blood popping out of bodies like puss from pimples—there is gore galore.  The grim Reaper of bloodbath, Tarantino has done it again while this time wielding his camera at the nation’s most vulnerable moment in history—slavery.

Even though violence may be what cinemagoers are looking for, especially fans and followers of Tarantino’s work, “Django”, a film taken place during the slave trade, leaves viewers wanting less slaughter and more solemnity.

Newsflash: slavery is never silly.  And please, can African Americans stop being patronized?  Django (Jamie Foxx) is an enslaved African American who is rescued and freed by—let’s guess—a white man, Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), with a suitable name.

Yet, Dr. Schultz’s omniscient and sneaky, creepy character—he resembled an old western, historical Joker (Heath Ledger, of course)—is played remarkably, that is, until the end.  He seems to lose steam as Django gains it; Django starts to wear the sass in the bounty hunting business. Maybe the point was to create a good bounty hunter, bad bounty hunter vibe, but at the end of the film, the character that at first gave goose bumps was left in the dust. 

A more disturbing than disappointing element is the opening scene, which focuses on five chained, shirtless, sun baked and barefooted African Americans herded by two white men with whips.  This somber moment is insulted when the spaghetti Western soundtrack, a Johnny Cash wanna-be, starts trilling. As if it is mocking the barbarity of slavery, the song’s corny twang juxtaposes against the open wounds of the dark men’s’ chiseled backs.

This is not to say that serious events can not have a touch of comedic relief, “Inglorious Basterds,” another film by Tarantino, captures the butchery of WWII in Nazi Germany and also arises a harmless chuckle from the audience.  The problem with “Django” versus “Basterds” is that slavery is a blade closer to the heart than Nazism, U.S. being the home team. 

“Django Unchained” not only gashed its jagged teeth into a delicate, aching wound of the nation, but its’ fantastic morbidity and grossly offensive nature “unchained” vicious memories of the country’s racism.  Tarantino set out for an inevitable failure-- no one can turn slavery into satire.