Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Enter STage Left Column for October
Enter Stage Left: A New Coast
Somewhere over the rainbow, people stroll
Somewhere over the rainbow, people stroll
One thing I disliked about New York City was its frantic pace. As the most densely populated city in the United States – not counting the busses, subways, cars, animals, rats, and egos that come with those crowds – NYC has over 8 million humans hitting the ground running day and night. True, some of them hit the ground and just lay there, but that doesn’t stop other New Yorkers from pole vaulting over them and racing on. I’ve seen it happen. Sadly, I’ve done it myself.
NYC is a film on fast forward. Sometimes my frame would freeze and I’d observe others scurrying so insanely I’d laugh out loud, and that’s when people glanced at me, thinking, “Oops, better rush by her, she’s one of the crazies. Quick, before she announces the aliens have landed.” It was when Peter and I realized that the aliens had landed that we moved west. New Yorkers skittering their lives away began to look very strange to us, and their “dancing as fast as we can” culture no longer enthralled us. It only made us tired.
But walking in San Francisco is not a battle drill. It’s a way of getting where you want to go. Sanely. It could be the hills, but I’ve even noticed “strolling” on flat ground, even in midtown, where tourists and business people have a pacific take on getting somewhere: a West Coast waltz, which I much prefer to East Coast jitterbugging.
There’s little grace in frantic speed.
Despite San Francisco also being a major city, squeezing some 800,000 people into a mere 46.9 square miles, there’s still a feeling of “village” here, due to the way people ambulate. San Francisco’s pedestrians carry themselves with an air of relaxed, fearless privilege, as if S.F. is their village. No matter what color the traffic lights, no matter how many cars are waiting for them, S.F. pedestrians take it all in stride, and that stride is a self-possessed, relaxed one. It’s so calming.
People here walk when and as they wish, glancing at the waiting cars as if to say, “Don’t you dare honk! This is my village. What are cars doing here? Get out and walk! It’s better for the heart and the environment!” Proceeding as if the roadways were made of soft, dusty dirt, not city concrete, they walk as if it is their natural right. And despite my hardwired NYC need for speed, I now see how life can be and I like it a lot. I feel like Neo being unhooked from the Matrix, seeing reality for the first time. My eyes are open.
The S.F. passagiatta includes beautiful young women, replete with smart phones and iPods, barely aware of where they are much less that they’re walking against red lights, strolling laconically past stop signs with cars straining to leap forward and crush them. Often they disregard the crosswalks and simply amble where they wish, walking in befuddling patterns, cutting corners against all reason (one can only hope that at least they know where they’re going). Family groupings with baby carriages come from dinner, moving slowly like tribes of wild turkeys, gobbling, chatting, spilling over sidewalks, past lights long turned against them. Handsome young men with pals joke and laugh as they mosey, treating crosswalks like their university quads on a party weekend, oblivious to all else. Endless lines of quitting-time stragglers really hold my interest because just when you think you can make that turn at Columbus or Broadway, they keep streaming into your path, making the turn impossible until the light turns against you.
And finally, there are the marvelous elderly, whose determined feet shuffle slowly across the prairie of each crosswalk. Bent over, they have no idea that the light is yellow, only that when they started out it was green. They also know they’re safe because San Francisco is their home. I love these older folks, and I’m glad there are so many out walking. Surely there are elderly pedestrians on NYC sidewalks, but I rarely saw them. When I did, they were usually in wheelchairs being pushed by nurses hired by their Long Island sons or daughters, and they were moving rapidly because NYC traffic is not kind to people who dawdle, no matter what they’re pushing.
New York City is no place to grow old.
So I plan to do that right here, in this gorgeous city of watery light and magic. I will amble my way into the sunset, the latest rock band plugged in as I shuffle along. If you see me bent over, a contented smile on my wrinkled face, be very glad for this village we live in.
Then take me gently by the shoulders and point me in the right direction. I will have my address pinned to my sleeve.
NYC is a film on fast forward. Sometimes my frame would freeze and I’d observe others scurrying so insanely I’d laugh out loud, and that’s when people glanced at me, thinking, “Oops, better rush by her, she’s one of the crazies. Quick, before she announces the aliens have landed.” It was when Peter and I realized that the aliens had landed that we moved west. New Yorkers skittering their lives away began to look very strange to us, and their “dancing as fast as we can” culture no longer enthralled us. It only made us tired.
But walking in San Francisco is not a battle drill. It’s a way of getting where you want to go. Sanely. It could be the hills, but I’ve even noticed “strolling” on flat ground, even in midtown, where tourists and business people have a pacific take on getting somewhere: a West Coast waltz, which I much prefer to East Coast jitterbugging.
There’s little grace in frantic speed.
Despite San Francisco also being a major city, squeezing some 800,000 people into a mere 46.9 square miles, there’s still a feeling of “village” here, due to the way people ambulate. San Francisco’s pedestrians carry themselves with an air of relaxed, fearless privilege, as if S.F. is their village. No matter what color the traffic lights, no matter how many cars are waiting for them, S.F. pedestrians take it all in stride, and that stride is a self-possessed, relaxed one. It’s so calming.
People here walk when and as they wish, glancing at the waiting cars as if to say, “Don’t you dare honk! This is my village. What are cars doing here? Get out and walk! It’s better for the heart and the environment!” Proceeding as if the roadways were made of soft, dusty dirt, not city concrete, they walk as if it is their natural right. And despite my hardwired NYC need for speed, I now see how life can be and I like it a lot. I feel like Neo being unhooked from the Matrix, seeing reality for the first time. My eyes are open.
The S.F. passagiatta includes beautiful young women, replete with smart phones and iPods, barely aware of where they are much less that they’re walking against red lights, strolling laconically past stop signs with cars straining to leap forward and crush them. Often they disregard the crosswalks and simply amble where they wish, walking in befuddling patterns, cutting corners against all reason (one can only hope that at least they know where they’re going). Family groupings with baby carriages come from dinner, moving slowly like tribes of wild turkeys, gobbling, chatting, spilling over sidewalks, past lights long turned against them. Handsome young men with pals joke and laugh as they mosey, treating crosswalks like their university quads on a party weekend, oblivious to all else. Endless lines of quitting-time stragglers really hold my interest because just when you think you can make that turn at Columbus or Broadway, they keep streaming into your path, making the turn impossible until the light turns against you.
And finally, there are the marvelous elderly, whose determined feet shuffle slowly across the prairie of each crosswalk. Bent over, they have no idea that the light is yellow, only that when they started out it was green. They also know they’re safe because San Francisco is their home. I love these older folks, and I’m glad there are so many out walking. Surely there are elderly pedestrians on NYC sidewalks, but I rarely saw them. When I did, they were usually in wheelchairs being pushed by nurses hired by their Long Island sons or daughters, and they were moving rapidly because NYC traffic is not kind to people who dawdle, no matter what they’re pushing.
New York City is no place to grow old.
So I plan to do that right here, in this gorgeous city of watery light and magic. I will amble my way into the sunset, the latest rock band plugged in as I shuffle along. If you see me bent over, a contented smile on my wrinkled face, be very glad for this village we live in.
Then take me gently by the shoulders and point me in the right direction. I will have my address pinned to my sleeve.
Labels: Marina TImes columns
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
October Program Notes for the Marina TImes
Hi folks - Please enjoy this first arts column I wrote for the Marina TIMES...for their October issue:
THE MARINA TIMES for OCTOBER
Program Notes
The Magic touch
By Evalyn Baron
October 2011
Luis Alfaro debuted his world premier of Oedipus el Rey in 2010, and has another world premiere called Bruja at Magic Theatre in 2012. Appearing in the photo are Romi Dias and Joshua Torrez (Photo: Jennifer Reiley)
From the moment the first Barbary Coast saloon gal opened her mouth to sing to the rowdy swagmen and buccaneers in the mid-19th century, San Francisco’s performing arts have been provocative, stimulating and vibrant. Artistic ground has always been broken here, and all areas of live performance have benefitted from the innovations San Francisco has introduced throughout its rich history.
Here, live theater is still open to taking risks with new writers and still not afraid to let innovative designers and performers into the arena. It has always pushed the edge, but going over that edge time and again has not dulled the City’s willingness to try new things. From the days of vaudeville at The Victoria, early moving pictures at The Castro, on up through the vital street theatre of the S.F. Mime Troupe and the dozens of exciting “off-Broadway” companies that exist in the City today, San Francisco has been an innovator in theater and all performance arts.
And for decades, Magic has been at the center of this rich history. Born in 1967 from an embryonic performance of Ionesco’s The Lesson at Berkeley’s Steppenwolf Bar, the Magic Theatre got its start and name from that event. Herman Hesse’s novel Steppenwolf describes an “anarchist evening at the Magic Theatre, for madmen only, price of admission your mind,” and with that literary baptism, John Lion, Magic’s founder, established his artistic dream – his Magic Theatre – as an important nexus for a new American stage. In 1977, with Sam Shepard as playwright-in-residence, Magic Theatre settled in at Fort Mason Center.
In 2008, the gifted Loretta Greco was named Magic’s producing artistic director, an appointment that infused the theater community with an awakened passion for what’s going on at this important landmark theater. Recently, I spoke with Loretta.
EB: Loretta, how is Magic Theatre unique and important to S.F.’s performing arts scene?
LG: Magic Theatre is 100 percent risk – devoted to excellence, to the adventure of developing and producing thrilling new plays that are entertaining and socially substantive. We’re one of the few theaters left in the country whose sole mission is to build new plays, page by page, with the playwright by our side. Magic Theatre is a national jewel in S.F.’s own backyard – the off-Broadway answer to A.C.T.’s traditional fare, an intimate arena where essential elements of theater are at play.
EB: Why is the Marina district lucky to have Magic nearby?
LG: Because Magic is a place where you don’t just come and “see a play.” You experience it. We’re theater professionals dedicated to portraying what reminds us of what it is to be human, to be flawed, to transcend, to remember compassion. So if you live in the Marina you can walk or bike down the street, buy a ticket, laugh out loud at the same time you’re weeping with shared recognition. You can find your community. Share a live experience with neighbors – an experience created by inspired writers, and performed by some of the best actors in S.F. and from around the country! And you can see it right here at Magic before the rest of the country does.
EB: Your 2011–2012 season is launched, so what’s next at Magic?
LG: Nov. 3 to Dec. 4, we present a terrific new piece by Sharr White called Annapurna, and audiences will adore it! One of the bravest, most emotionally raw plays I’ve ever read about relationships, the resilience of love, and redemption, themes that never cease to engage me. Sharr’s writing is sublime! I look forward to directing that one.
EB: And in 2012?
LG: January, we open with Lloyd Suh’s Jesus in India, an irreverent and hilarious new play, surprisingly resonant with a spirituality that cuts across religious lines. Then, in March, Any Given Day, by noted Scottish playwright Linda McLean, holds a quiet miracle inside its taut, tough writing. We close our season with a new play from one of the great dramatists of our time, Luis Alfaro, [that is] written for the Magic, called Bruja – an earthy, very human reimagining of Euripides’ Medea, inspired by Luis’s Chicano roots, his love of San Francisco, Cuba, and the Greeks. His Oedipus el Rey rocked audiences here last season, and won the Glickman Prize for best new play of the year.
EB: Sounds like the Magic is happening.
LG: And we want the entire Marina to share it with us.
So readers, you’ve received your invitation from Magic Theatre! Call for tickets – even buy a special Flexpass subscription for all four plays, so you can meet a friend at Magic Theatre and remind yourself how terrific live theater can be. Magic, right in your own backyard – how lucky can you get?
Magic Theatre Box Office: 415-441 8822 or www.magictheatre.org/tickets
Marina Times
a division of Northside Publications
THE MARINA TIMES for OCTOBER
Program Notes
The Magic touch
By Evalyn Baron
October 2011
Luis Alfaro debuted his world premier of Oedipus el Rey in 2010, and has another world premiere called Bruja at Magic Theatre in 2012. Appearing in the photo are Romi Dias and Joshua Torrez (Photo: Jennifer Reiley)
From the moment the first Barbary Coast saloon gal opened her mouth to sing to the rowdy swagmen and buccaneers in the mid-19th century, San Francisco’s performing arts have been provocative, stimulating and vibrant. Artistic ground has always been broken here, and all areas of live performance have benefitted from the innovations San Francisco has introduced throughout its rich history.
Here, live theater is still open to taking risks with new writers and still not afraid to let innovative designers and performers into the arena. It has always pushed the edge, but going over that edge time and again has not dulled the City’s willingness to try new things. From the days of vaudeville at The Victoria, early moving pictures at The Castro, on up through the vital street theatre of the S.F. Mime Troupe and the dozens of exciting “off-Broadway” companies that exist in the City today, San Francisco has been an innovator in theater and all performance arts.
And for decades, Magic has been at the center of this rich history. Born in 1967 from an embryonic performance of Ionesco’s The Lesson at Berkeley’s Steppenwolf Bar, the Magic Theatre got its start and name from that event. Herman Hesse’s novel Steppenwolf describes an “anarchist evening at the Magic Theatre, for madmen only, price of admission your mind,” and with that literary baptism, John Lion, Magic’s founder, established his artistic dream – his Magic Theatre – as an important nexus for a new American stage. In 1977, with Sam Shepard as playwright-in-residence, Magic Theatre settled in at Fort Mason Center.
In 2008, the gifted Loretta Greco was named Magic’s producing artistic director, an appointment that infused the theater community with an awakened passion for what’s going on at this important landmark theater. Recently, I spoke with Loretta.
EB: Loretta, how is Magic Theatre unique and important to S.F.’s performing arts scene?
LG: Magic Theatre is 100 percent risk – devoted to excellence, to the adventure of developing and producing thrilling new plays that are entertaining and socially substantive. We’re one of the few theaters left in the country whose sole mission is to build new plays, page by page, with the playwright by our side. Magic Theatre is a national jewel in S.F.’s own backyard – the off-Broadway answer to A.C.T.’s traditional fare, an intimate arena where essential elements of theater are at play.
EB: Why is the Marina district lucky to have Magic nearby?
LG: Because Magic is a place where you don’t just come and “see a play.” You experience it. We’re theater professionals dedicated to portraying what reminds us of what it is to be human, to be flawed, to transcend, to remember compassion. So if you live in the Marina you can walk or bike down the street, buy a ticket, laugh out loud at the same time you’re weeping with shared recognition. You can find your community. Share a live experience with neighbors – an experience created by inspired writers, and performed by some of the best actors in S.F. and from around the country! And you can see it right here at Magic before the rest of the country does.
EB: Your 2011–2012 season is launched, so what’s next at Magic?
LG: Nov. 3 to Dec. 4, we present a terrific new piece by Sharr White called Annapurna, and audiences will adore it! One of the bravest, most emotionally raw plays I’ve ever read about relationships, the resilience of love, and redemption, themes that never cease to engage me. Sharr’s writing is sublime! I look forward to directing that one.
EB: And in 2012?
LG: January, we open with Lloyd Suh’s Jesus in India, an irreverent and hilarious new play, surprisingly resonant with a spirituality that cuts across religious lines. Then, in March, Any Given Day, by noted Scottish playwright Linda McLean, holds a quiet miracle inside its taut, tough writing. We close our season with a new play from one of the great dramatists of our time, Luis Alfaro, [that is] written for the Magic, called Bruja – an earthy, very human reimagining of Euripides’ Medea, inspired by Luis’s Chicano roots, his love of San Francisco, Cuba, and the Greeks. His Oedipus el Rey rocked audiences here last season, and won the Glickman Prize for best new play of the year.
EB: Sounds like the Magic is happening.
LG: And we want the entire Marina to share it with us.
So readers, you’ve received your invitation from Magic Theatre! Call for tickets – even buy a special Flexpass subscription for all four plays, so you can meet a friend at Magic Theatre and remind yourself how terrific live theater can be. Magic, right in your own backyard – how lucky can you get?
Magic Theatre Box Office: 415-441 8822 or www.magictheatre.org/tickets
Marina Times
a division of Northside Publications
Labels: Marina TImes columns
