twi-ny talks

TWI-NY TALK: ERIC EINHORN / ON SITE OPERA: GIANNI SCHICCHI

On Site Opera returns to site-specific productions with Gianni Schicchi at the Prince George Ballroom (photo courtesy On Site Opera)

GIANNI SCHICCHI
The Prince George Ballroom
15 East Twenty-Seventh St. between Fifth & Madison Aves.
April 7-10, $50
osopera.org

Since 2012, On Site Opera has been presenting immersive works in unique locations around New York City, including Benjamin Britten’s The Turn of the Screw at Wave Hill, Gian Carlo Menotti’s Amahl and the Night Visitors at the Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen, Gregg Kallor’s Sketches from “Frankenstein” in the Green-Wood Cemetery catacombs, and Michi Wiancko and Deborah Brevoort’s Marasaki’s Moon at the Astor Chinese Garden Court at the Met.

But when the coronavirus crisis led to a pandemic lockdown and people quarantining at home, barely venturing outside (or leaving the city entirely), the NYC-based company had to reevaluate its immediate future. Cofounding artistic director Eric Einhorn decided to continue making opera, but instead of fans coming to them, OSO would deliver the works straight to the audience, wherever they were sheltering in place.

The result was a series of innovative productions conveyed live over the phone for one person at a time (To My Distant Love); a mailed diary box featuring music by Dominick Argento, Juliana Hall, and Leoš Janáček and text by Anne Frank, Osef Kalda, and Virginia Woolf (The Beauty That Still Remains); and a live Zoom opera based on Georg Philipp Telemann’s Der Schulmeister (Lesson Plan).

Then, just as the troupe was preparing for its first site-specific indoor work in more than two years, Giacomo Puccini’s 1917–18 Gianni Schicchi at the Prince George Ballroom, Einhorn contracted Covid, forcing him to direct rehearsals over Zoom. The first of Puccini’s Il trittico (“The Triptych”), the fifty-minute comic opera tells the story of a family fighting over a will; the original was set in 1299 Florence, but Einhorn has reimagined it for the Roaring Twenties. OSO plans on staging the next two works, Il tabarro and Suor Angelica, in the coming years.

As opening night approached — Gianni Schicchi runs April 7-10 — Einhorn discussed the past, present, and future of OSO in this new age.

twi-ny: Okay, let’s start with the pandemic. What are the immediate thoughts of the head of a site-specific opera company when a health crisis suddenly shuts down indoor and outdoor venues everywhere and people lock themselves inside?

eric einhorn: I had two immediate thoughts when the pandemic hit: First, what does it now mean to be a company built on the idea of gathering in a specific space? And second, how can we as a company serve our community in these troubling times? The first question led us down a road of fascinating exploration about what constituted a site. The safest choice seemed to be to create projects that allowed each audience member’s own location to serve as the “performance site.” So many arts companies were defaulting to digital media as a way to maintain production, which made a lot of sense for most proscenium-based companies, but it did not for us. Looking at audience sites that did not involve patrons sitting on their computers (a must-have thanks to pretty immediate Zoom and YouTube fatigue) led us to create projects over the phone, through the mail, and via mobile app.

The second question of serving our community was answered through the fantastic collaborative efforts of our staff, board, advisory councils, and past artists. We offered free live watch parties of some previous productions, hosted industry panels, and offered free virtual performance coaching. All of this was rolled out in an effort to help our community remain together and offer experiences that could allow us all to focus on the things that brought us joy in the midst of the terrifying first months of the pandemic.

Eric Einhhorn directs via Zoom for latest OSO site-specific production (photo courtesy On Site Opera)

twi-ny: The phone project was To My Distant Love, a Beethoven song cycle performed for one listener at a time over the phone. How did that come about?

ee: Early in the pandemic, I was sitting in my home office going through my score collection, hoping to find some thread of inspiration in these newly troubling times. I pulled out my copy of Beethoven’s An die ferne Geliebte, which I had once performed when I was pursuing my vocal performance degree many years ago. I had always loved the song cycle for its compact pathos. Rereading the text in 2020, though, resonated in a totally new way. The poetry was about two lovers at a forced distance and the burning desire to be together again. If I didn’t know it was nineteenth-century poetry, I easily could have thought it was brand new and of the moment. Around the same time, I had been made aware of theater companies that created interactive telephone plays for an audience of one. After experiencing one for myself, I became convinced that opera (or a song cycle) could be delivered the same way. We commissioned playwright Monet Hurst-Mendoza to create an interactive script around the song cycle to allow performer and audience member to connect even more, as well as preshow love letters that elicited some fantastic, in-character replies from audiences.

twi-ny: You continued this idea of delivering the company to the audience instead of the audience coming to OSO with the diary box The Beauty That Still Remains, which was mailed out. How did people respond?

ee: After our “low tech” success with the Beethoven phone project, we continued to explore the various ways that we could connect with audiences that were not truly computer-based. Inspiration for The Beauty That Still Remains came from the phenomenon of subscription boxes that now permeate every market and taste. We didn’t know how audiences would respond to a project that was mailed in installments and featured both a tactile element (the box contents) and a digital one (the prerecorded musical performances). It turns out audiences loved it! As with all of our productions, every experiential element was tied into the story, which made it all that much more immersive. Patrons from all over the world engaged with this project, and it gave us yet another opportunity to explore the boundaries of site-specific performance during a time when gathering at a site was not possible.

twi-ny: Last summer you were finally able to gather at a site with The Perfect Pig and Tapestry of New York, at the Glade at Little Island. What did you think about the performance space and Little Island itself?

ee: Performing on Little Island as part of the NYC FREE festival was an incredibly special opportunity. Little Island is such a special place, and the Glade is a magical corner of the park that is perfect for performing. While we were in rehearsals for a full, outdoor production at the same time, the performances on Little Island were actually our first in-person performances since the pandemic began. It was really quite emotional to bring this particular repertoire to Little Island for our first in-person performances in two years. The Perfect Pig is a lovely short opera for families about the self-acceptance, and Tapestry of New York was a concert of selections highlighting many of the incredible communities that make up our city. Seeing audience members of all ages gather again and to be able to perform opera for them was truly a gift. For as much as audiences needed live music again, performers and creators needed to produce again.

twi-ny: If I’m not mistaken, your first Zoom show was Lesson Plan this past January. Had you previously been using Zoom for rehearsals or other reasons?

ee: Lesson Plan was, indeed, our first Zoom-based production. We had been using Zoom since the start of the pandemic for meetings and some select rehearsals but never for a full production. When most opera companies went fully digital in 2020, we did a significant amount of self-reflection to consider what it meant to be site-specific in these times of forced distance. In exploring the idea of the audience’s own location as the “site,” as you mentioned, we created productions for the phone and through the mail. We also created a self-guided walking tour program [The Road We Came] that explored Black music history in New York City through a mobile app with prerecorded performances. When planning our 2022 season, specifically the January slot, I took the general consensus of the scientific community to heart when they said that there could very well be another Covid surge during the winter of 2021. It seemed prudent to plan another remote project rather than face the possibility of having to cancel an in-person production.

For a while, I had wanted to create something around Telemann’s cantata Der Schulmeister — a charming comedy about a curmudgeonly music teacher attempting to teach children to sing. There were some jokes in the piece with the kids singing out of sync with the music teacher that immediately made me think of Zoom delays. This seemed like the perfect project for Zoom to become the site. We wanted to expand the piece a bit and create an English translation. For that, we commissioned Rachel J. Peters, who created something incredibly special with Lesson Plan. Our cast and team of engineering wizards brought it to life in such an amazing way — and it was fully remote and live over Zoom. This production choice proved prescient, as Omicron was in full force during the production period.

twi-ny: OSO is getting down to the site-specific business again with Gianni Schicchi at the Prince George Ballroom. Why that opera in that space?

ee: The Prince George Ballroom has been on my list of potential production venues for several years, but we couldn’t quite decide on the perfect piece to perform there. In planning the 2022 season, some of our programming goals were to keep our repertoire on the shorter side and skew towards comedy. We wanted to allow our audiences to ease back into the experience of being back “on site” and, given what the last two years have been like, we wanted to make sure laughter played a significant role in that. [OSO music director] Geoff McDonald and I arrived at Gianni Schicchi for several reasons: It’s funny, under an hour, and filled with some of the best music in opera. In matching the piece to a space, the Prince George Ballroom immediately came to mind as an opulent room perfect to serve as the home of Buoso Donati, the wealthy patriarch of the opera. The large ballroom also accommodates the audience, orchestra, and performers with plenty of room to spare, making sure that no one feels cramped — another important consideration given Covid.

twi-ny: What were the rehearsals like?

ee: Rehearsals were fantastic! To be in a rehearsal studio with so many wonderful artists working on such a masterpiece was really a joy that almost made one forget about the pandemic. That said, we adhered to strict health and safety protocols that included multiple tests every week for everyone involved in the production and fully masked rehearsals — all under the supervision of a Covid compliance manager hired specifically for the production.

https://twitter.com/onsiteopera/status/1511007803728670721?s=20&t=ZEmqgRQZrNceRe4-s1fNXQ

twi-ny: The company is currently celebrating its tenth anniversary. What were your expectations when the company started in 2012? What are your plans for the next ten years?

ee: Back in 2012, On Site Opera was a side project for me. It was an experiment in producing and directing in the crazy format of site-specific production. I never could have imagined it would turn into my full-time job, nor be able to grow to support a staff and as many productions as we now do. There are still moments when I have to pinch myself. The next few years will bring several new commissions, the completion of the Puccini Trittico cycle, and further exploration of the most exciting sites in NYC and beyond. One of the great aspects of the company is its nimbleness. This allows us to remain incredibly flexible in our programming and create productions and initiatives that can serve our community most immediately. In our second decade we will remain committed to our values of equity, diversity, inclusion, and accessibility as well as rich collaborations with our community of patrons, volunteers, artists, and audiences.

twi-ny: You’ve been a leader in the digital opera movement, incorporating apps, Google Glass, and other cutting-edge technology. How is this impacting your audiences?

ee: Adoption of our various technological initiatives has been quite high across all demographics. I think that it is, in part, due to the way our tech is always integrated into our productions. Whenever we decide to include new technology, we evaluate how the tech will interact with the show, what the adoption process might be, and if it could potentially be distracting. We also are mindful that it does not create a barrier for entry for any audience members. By approaching technology from this people-first angle, our initiatives have been quite successful.

Google Glass was an incredibly exciting experiment that brought together the tech and opera communities. I was disappointed when Google changed Glass’s focus to enterprise versus retail, as it essentially closed the door to further operatic applications. Our mobile app, though, and specifically the supertitle translation module, has had an extremely positive impact on our audiences. Before the app, many of our productions did not feature projected English translations (an industry staple these days) due to our immersive seating arrangements or simply a lack of surfaces onto which we could project in our various venues. The app now allows us to always offer English translations for patrons, as well as other languages — we are now consistently offering Spanish translations and have offered Japanese on a previous show. Plans are in the works for multiple language offerings for all of our productions. Since the app is very intuitive and smartphone-based, most audiences find the use of it in performances quite easy and fun.

twi-ny: When you have time to go out, are you seeing opera, or do you have other guilty pleasures?

ee: The pandemic has made me even more of homebody than I was before. However, when I do go out, it is typically to go on some crazy adventure with my kids or see a musical with my partner.

TWI-NY TALK: RICHARD TOPOL — PRAYER FOR THE FRENCH REPUBLIC

Rich Topol plays nonreligious narrator Patrick Salomon in Manhattan Theatre Club world premiere (photo by Matthew Murphy)

PRAYER FOR THE FRENCH REPUBLIC
Manhattan Theatre Club
MTC at New York City Center – Stage I
131 West 55th St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through March 27, $99
212-581-1212
www.manhattantheatreclub.com

About seven years ago, I was sitting in the audience at a play when I recognized the man in front of me, actor Richard Topol. I tapped him on the shoulder during intermission and told him that I had just seen him at the Signature in A. R. Gurney’s The Wayside Motor Inn and had enjoyed his performance. He thanked me, saying that he was actually the understudy and that was the only time he had gone on. He was even more thankful when I told him that I had included him in my review.

Since then we’ve bumped into each other a few other times at the theater and discussed various shows we’d seen. He’s an extremely amiable mensch who clearly loves his chosen profession. Even if you don’t recognize his name, you’re likely to know his face; he has approximately fifty television and film credits, including portraying lawyer and politician James Speed in Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln, a recurring role on The Practice, and multiple parts on several Law & Order iterations.

But his true love is theater, which he also teaches. He has appeared extensively on and off Broadway, in such plays as The Merchant of Venice with Al Pacino, Julius Caesar with Denzel Washington, Alice Birch’s Anatomy of a Suicide with Carla Gugino, and Paula Vogel’s Tony-nominated Indecent with Katrina Lenk as well as Tony-winning revivals of Clifford Odets’s Awake & Sing! and Larry Kramer’s The Normal Heart. He is currently starring in Joshua Harmon’s Prayer for the French Republic, a scintillating three-hour exploration of anti-Semitism that travels between 1944 and 2016; Topol plays Patrick Salomon, a nonreligious Jew who has decided not to go into the family piano business.

Topol was raised in Mamaroneck and lost his father when he was twelve. He is married to actress Eliza Foss; they have one daughter, and Richard was close with his father-in-law, the late German-American composer, pianist, and conductor Lukas Foss.

During our wide-ranging Zoom conversation, Topol is thoughtful and generous, laughing and smiling a lot. Behind him in his living room is a landscape by his mother-in-law, the painter and teacher Cornelia (Brendel) Foss.

He admits that the most nervous he’s been in his life was when he hung out with Paul McCartney following a performance of Larry David’s Fish in the Dark, in which Topol played Dr. Stiles; after that, the Cute Beatle went from being his third favorite mop top — behind John and George — to his second.

A few days after Prayer for the French Republic opened at Manhattan Theater Club’s Stage I at City Center, we talked about one-person shows, getting Covid, baseball, and what it’s like being an actor in lockdown, including a detailed description of mounting a play as a pandemic continues.

Rich Topol starred as stage manager Lemml in Indecent (photo by Carol Rosegg)

twi-ny: During the pandemic, you appeared in several virtual and audio productions: You were in Melisa Annis’s Beginnings, Anne Washburn’s Shipwreck, Craig Lucas’s More Beautiful — and you played a chicken in Jimonn Cole’s Chickens.

richard topol: Oh my God! That was so much fun.

twi-ny: That was crazy.

rt: I loved Michael Potts in that.

twi-ny: You guys were great. Did you enjoy working on Zoom?

rt: No, no, no. I mean, I enjoyed working as opposed to not working. Shipwreck was the closest we got to working on a play because we rehearsed for a couple of weeks and it felt like, Okay, I’m going to rehearsal today. We did the kind of work that you do in a play before you get up on your feet. [Director] Saheem Ali was great and it was a great cast, obviously in a really interesting play. And we spent enough time with it to dig in the way you do in a play.

I mean, I also shot some TV shows over the course of the pandemic, so all of the Zoom stuff felt more like the way an actor like me connects to short-term work. You don’t develop a through-line, you don’t understand the arc of things. You’re not invested in a team, the whole idea of a team creating a thing and living together and becoming a version of a theater family, or whatever it is. Shipwreck was the closest to that.

twi-ny: As a listener, I felt it Shipwreck was one of the audio plays that worked the best during the lockdown. I got the feeling that this was a group of actors working in tandem.

rt: Right. I think because they had intended originally to produce it live, they had invested in it as fully and fulsomely as you do for a whole theater piece. There had been a lot of preparation. There was a sense of having more in the heads of the director and the producers, what we could imagine this great thing being, that infused the development and the rehearsal and experience of doing it. The Public took a lot of care in making it.

twi-ny: You finally returned to the stage in November in Portland with Searching for Mr. Moon, which is about fathers and sons, particularly about how you lost your father when you were very young and eventually found a father figure in Lukas Foss. This is your first one-man show, which you wrote with Willy Holtzman, a two-time Pulitzer nominee. What was the experience like sharing your life, in person, in front of people, back onstage? It’s a short question, right?

rt: The short answer is it was great. It was so satisfying. I remember at the time talking with people and saying, Oh my God, this is the longest period of time between . . . I was doing Anatomy of a Suicide at the Atlantic Theater Company.

twi-ny: Which was excellent. Loved it.

rt: Thank you. Yeah, I love that play. Intense. So that was the very last performance you could do in New York. And we were shut down. And so from March 12 of 2020 to November 3, 2021, was the longest period of time I hadn’t been onstage in my adult life. And I’ve been an actor for over three decades.

So it was thrilling to be back in a theater on a stage with a live audience, even though they were masked. So on the one hand, it was incredibly thrilling. And on the other hand, it was incredibly scary because it was the first play that I’d ever cowritten with anybody, and it was about my life. I felt more exposed than I’d ever felt before in my life. Willy and I had been talking about this play for a number of years. And then because the pandemic happened, we both had the time to really work on it. And that’s how it came to pass, and Anita Stewart, the artistic director of Portland Stage, was just a real cheerleader for the piece.

We did a developmental workshop in June up in Maine. That theater had stayed open through the pandemic because Maine had so few cases, because of the regulations, and because of their skill at keeping people safe. They produced a lot of one-person shows. They produced Lanford Wilson’s Talley’s Folly — they cast a married couple who played the two parts.

But even though they’re being Covid careful, they have diminished audiences because there are a lot of people who feel, I’m not going to see a play. I’m not going to risk that.

twi-ny: A lot of people still feel that way.

rt: But Willy and I had a lot of time over the pandemic because there wasn’t much else to do to finish the play. And then Anita gave us a shot. We did the workshop, we did a live reading in front of people. It went really well and they’re, like, We want to produce this and we have a slot.

But because it’s about one of the hardest things and most personal struggles that I’ve experienced for the last forty-six years of my life, since my father died, it was scary to share, but it felt worth sharing. Willy was like, I want to write a one-man show for you. I’m like, Okay, sure. First of all, I don’t like one-person shows, I don’t like seeing one-person shows; they’re not interesting to me. I love acting with other people, and it can’t be about me because I’m not interesting. So what could it be about.

twi-ny: Three strikes and you’re out.

rt: Right. It was a total strikeout. And then Willy’s like, Come on, come on. And so initially we decided it would be about Lukas Foss, who was my father-in-law, a really interesting man who had a really interesting life. He escaped the Nazis. Like in Josh’s play, he was one of those people, a German Jew in Berlin who got out. Even though he wasn’t Jewish; he didn’t think of himself as a Jew. He had a really interesting life and a really challenging death.

He had Parkinson’s disease. He had a mind that was brilliant and fingers that could play — I don’t know if you’ve ever heard him play or listened to something. It’s unbelievable. If you can listen to him playing on Lenny Bernstein’s “Age of Anxiety,” listen to the piano on that. It is unbelievable. And so the guy lost his physical abilities and his mental abilities. We thought, Okay, that’s an interesting idea for a play.

I’ve always had this obsession with searching for a father and he was my father-in-law, so let’s do that. And the play started to be about that. And the first two drafts of it were about that. It was this biodrama about Lukas and it was missing something.

Rich Topol debuted his intimate one-person show at Portland Stage in November (photo by No Umbrella Media LLC)

twi-ny: It needed more of you, probably.

rt: Yes, well, that’s what Willy said. And so, kicking and screaming, it became more and more about my relationship to Lukas and then my relationship to fatherhood. Then when my wife told the story to Willy about when she gave birth — the opening scene of the play is her giving birth to our daughter — and Eliza’s parents, in black tie, come in from a gala, bursting into the delivery room because they thought she was about to have a baby — she was about to have a baby — we’re like, What are you doing here? Get the fuck out of here. That seemed like a good starting-off point, discussing my becoming a father and my seeing the best potential father to me to help me learn how to be a father.

It was really satisfying to do. I was really glad to do it at Portland Stage, where most of the people who were watching knew nothing about me and I didn’t have to feel so exposed. I’m hoping to bring the show to New York, but I think doing it here, that’ll be scary.

Although my mother came and saw the show. My wife came and saw the show. People who know me and my life saw it. And I survived.

twi-ny: And they all want you to keep doing it. Since these are your lines and they’re about you, if a joke didn’t quite take or something emotional didn’t register with the audience, is it more or less upsetting than when you’re reciting somebody else’s words and something might not go as expected?

rt: Oh, less upsetting because I know I’m not a professional. I’m no Josh Harmon. Josh is a writer. I’m just some guy —

twi-ny: The third guy from the left.

rt: Exactly, the third guy from the left. At least in that experience I can cut myself some slack. It was the first production of the first play that I’ve ever cowritten. Willy did most of the writing. So that’s the sort of glib answer.

The truth is, most of the play, I play other people. I play my father-in-law. I play my mother, I play my wife, I play my mother-in-law. And in the scenes where I play myself, most of that writing is me, having written down my versions of stories that I’ve experienced. And so the ones that I was willing to share were the ones that couldn’t be avoided and, I guess, were the most important. Maybe I’m fooling myself. The play was well received, so I didn’t have the experience of Oh, that sucked. Right. Why am I doing this play?

twi-ny: Who talked you into this?!

rt: Who let me do this thing?

Let’s take that idea of writing and switch over to Prayer for the French Republic, which is exquisitely written. The language is so beautiful. What was the rehearsal process like?

rt: Well, it started actually in August of 2019, when Josh had been commissioned by Manhattan Theater Club to write a play. He came in with his finished draft and we did a reading of it, prepandemic and in-person. They hand delivered the scripts to everybody’s homes. They bicycled around Manhattan delivering the scripts because they didn’t want to email them. Josh was holding it close. I read it to myself and I thought, this is the best play I’ve read in ten years. And I mean, I haven’t read every play in the last ten years, but I’ve read a lot of plays and I’ve seen a lot of plays, and I thought, this is astoundingly amazing.

And so I was so excited to be part of the beginning of it. We did that reading and I think it confirmed for Manhattan Theatre Club and for Josh that he had latched on to something incredible. Then we did a couple of workshops that fall and then at the end of February of 2020. At that time I was reading Charles, actually.

Rich Topol is third guy from the right in cast and crew photo from Prayer for the French Republic opening night (photo © 2022 by Daniel Rader)

twi-ny: That’s really interesting to me, because you fit so well as Patrick.

rt: Yeah, I know. I was like, No, no, no. When they said, Will you read Patrick? I was like, No, no, no, no, no. I love Charles. No, no, please don’t. They’re like, To be honest, Charles should be, if not actually North African, at least more Sephardic, more Middle Eastern. And so I was like, Okay, fine.

Now, of course, I’m totally madly in love with Patrick and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We did a workshop right before the pandemic hit in-person. And Josh had done some incredible things. And that’s when [director David] Cromer came on board. We’re already verklempt about it. So then the pandemic hit and immediately I got the virus.

The show closed on March 12. I had symptoms on the ides of March, on the 15th of March, and I was in bed for nineteen days with Covid-19.

twi-ny: So it was bad.

rt: It was miserable. I didn’t have it like Danny Burstein; I didn’t have to go to the hospital. Or Mark Blum, a lovely man who lost his life to it. And so it was the worst it could be without being bad. And then the symptoms were gone. We have a place upstate that we escaped too, and I got a call two days later from my agents. I’m like, Why is my agent calling me? The business is entirely shut down.

And she said, You just got an offer from Manhattan Theatre Club for Prayer for the French Republic. They want to do a workshop in July and then we’ll go into rehearsal in September and run till Christmas. And I thought, Oh, that’s perfect. This is the kind of play that should be running during the election. It felt to me that it was really important that this play be put up during the election. And then, of course, a month later, they’re, like, Yeah, we’re not going to do the workshop in July. But we’re still on track for the fall. And then a month later, it’s, Yeah, we’re not going to do the play in September. It’ll be sometime in 2021. We don’t know when but we’re still committed to doing the play.

And then we did a couple of Zoom workshops. We would do a weeklong workshop with the first act of the play, then the second act. And then another few months later we did the third. So we had a lot of time processing it with Josh and helping him wrangle this epic piece into what you saw. Then we got into the rehearsal space in December. And for those of us who’d been with it for two years, we’re like, Oh my God, we’re finally getting to do it. But still there was that sense of, Who’s producing a new eleven-person play, with nobody famous? It doesn’t have any songs —

twi-ny: And it’s about the Holocaust.

rt: Exactly. So kudos to them for sticking with it. And putting it up and investing in it, saying, I’m sorry, this is too important. We’re going to put this play up. We started first day of rehearsal learning about the Covid protocols, getting tested regularly.

twi-ny: Masked?

rt: We were wearing masks around the table. And then when we started up on our feet, we were unmasked, for those who were comfortable with that. And then one of our stage managers tested positive, and luckily she didn’t give it to anybody else. But at that point we’re like, Okay, we’re just wearing masks the whole time. We do not want to be shut down.

So this was the middle of December now, right before Christmas, and shows were going down left and right. We’re like, You know what, it’s not worth it. We do not want to shut this play down. Here we have been waiting for so long to do it. Let’s do what we can. And there were conversations among the cast about, Well, what do we do at home? Some of us have children and partners, but there was a real commitment to being safe so that we could get it up on our feet. And then Josh tested positive right before tech. And so actually the last few days of rehearsal and through tech, he watched the play like this.

twi-ny: On Zoom?

rt: There was a computer open and his computerized voice would come through. And again, he didn’t give it to anybody else. And then the testing protocols, we’re getting tested every day, and you can’t come into the room until you’ve tested negative, and, knock wood, that’s been it.

For the last six and a half weeks, we have been safe and we’ve been able to do it. And audiences have come. I am pleasantly surprised at how many hundreds of people are coming to see the show every day. I had seen a number of shows when I came back from Maine, and some had nobody in the audience and some were jam packed.

twi-ny: It’s been very strange. I went to a concert where everybody had to be masked and there were some empty seats, but it was pretty much sold out. But then I went to a hockey game and sixteen thousand people are screaming, no masks, lots of eating and drinking.

rt: Yeah. And I’m not going to any of that stuff. I did go see Hot Tuna and David Bromberg.

twi-ny: I love Bromberg.

rt: I looooove Bromberg.

twi-ny: How was he?

rt: He was great, for a seventy-year-old man. He was beautiful. He was really amazing. It was a really great time.

I’ve been to some plays where I’m sitting right next to total strangers and everybody has their mask on, and this was the same. Everybody did keep their masks on, but there were some drinking and eating. So we’ve been careful and thoughtful and fortunate, and I hope we continue to be so. Because it’s a great joy to do this play. It is a really challenging piece of theater and really satisfying to act in.

Rich Topol poses with a hot car on set of EPIX series Godfather of Harlem

twi-ny: Throughout your career, and especially more recently, you’ve played a lot of Jews: Sam Feinschreiber in Awake & Sing, Fritz Haber in Genius: Einstein, Lemml in Indecent, and now Patrick, who is a nonreligious Jew. Are you Jewish, or is it just a coincidence that you play a lot of Jews?

rt: I was born a Jew. I got bar mitzvahed. I think of myself as Jew-ish. I was in The Chosen a couple of times [There’s a knock at the door and Topol gets up to answer it, then returns.] That’s the exterminator, not exterminating Jews but exterminating bugs that Nazis would think are like Jews.

I’ve also actually played a lot of Jewish narrators who step into the play. I don’t think I’m as extreme as Patrick; Patrick is a Jew who doesn’t know anything about his Judaism and is happy to not know anything about his Judaism and is somebody who thinks of organized religion as what he says in the play, which is “bullshit.”

twi-ny: Which the character Molly agrees with.

rt: Right. I don’t subscribe there. But I’m also not religious. I think of myself as spiritual and, not to be too woo-woo, I believe in the earth. I’m a tree worshiper. I’m a tree hugger. Where I feel most soulful and spiritual is when I’ve climbed a mountain and I feel small in relation to a large, amazing thing. That’s the way I connect to religion. I think that most of the major religions are about feeling good to be small under the umbrella of something that’s bigger than our oneness, that connects us all.

twi-ny: I felt that that Josh really attacked the numerous angles of how to look at anti-Semitism and Israel and American Jewry. He covered everything. And without, I think, insulting anyone and without becoming didactic and preachy.

rt: He does a great job of giving everybody a valid argument. He’s really, really, really kind to all his characters. And thoughtful in allowing them to be really articulate people who have really strong opinions, and those opinions are different. And I think that’s one of the greatest things about the play, because it leaves the audience getting to consider those ideas that you’ve mentioned from a lot of perspectives. No, not from all perspectives, but certainly from a lot of perspectives within the Jewish community.

I’m always curious about what my non-Jewish friends who come and see the show think of it. I feel like the Jews, the Jews get it, the New York Jews get it, or they have really strong opinions about it.

twi-ny: Jon Stewart would ask, is it too Jewy?

rt: I have asked that of my non-Jewish friends. I’ve actually asked that of some of my Jewish friends too. Is this too Jewy? Is it just Jewy enough? Or is it not? The ones who are not Jews often say how the Jews in the play are just a specific example of the larger issue of otherness.

Look, we live in a world where the hate for other has been unleashed. And so what to do about that? If you’re a WASP from white privilege, maybe you look at this play and think, like Patrick, What’s the big deal, you know? Even those people understand, given what we’ve lived with, at least certainly for the last few years. But the larger questions that Josh asks in the play relate to almost everyone.

twi-ny: If Lukas were still around to see you in the show, would he be happy with your piano playing?

rt: I think he would be disappointed. And I’m slightly disappointed myself too, because I knew I was going to do this part for a long time and I knew that these songs were in the piece. But I feel like he shouldn’t be a better piano player than I am in this play. He doesn’t take over the family business. He shouldn’t be a lounge singer. I sing well, and maybe I’m justifying, but I feel like I play and sing just well enough but not too well for who he is. I love the progression of the piano in the play. It goes from Molly just clinking one note to me playing something schematic to Peyton [Lusk] playing that lovely Chopin piece to the end; the piano has a journey too. It’s a symbol, a metaphor for the journey of our family.

Rich Topol meets Yogi Berra on opening night of Bronx Bombers (photo © David Gordon)

twi-ny: Okay, for my last question, I have a sort of bone to pick with you. You were a Mets fan, then you switched over to the Yankees. I mean, come on.

rt: Did I say that out loud somewhere?

twi-ny: I have my sources.

rt: Actually, it sort of timed out pretty well, you know? Because when I became a Yankees fan, the Yankee sucked. It’s interesting because it connects to the father thing.

My father died in 1975; I don’t remember whether I jumped ship in ’74 or ’75. I know I was a Mets fan in ’73, and then we moved, and my next-door neighbor was a Yankees fan. And I wanted to be his friend.

twi-ny: Right before Reggie.

rt: Exactly. So you can’t pick a bone with me if it was because my father had just died and my next-door neighbor was a Yankees fan. The Mets had been to the World Series, right?

twi-ny: Yes they had, with Yogi Berra as manager. You played Yogi in Bronx Bombers. I think a lot of people forget that. I met him once at a Mickey Mantle Foundation dinner at Gracie Mansion. He was by himself and I went over to him and said, I’m going to ask you something that no one probably ever asks you about. And I asked him about managing the ’73 Mets. He looked up, put on a big smile, and said in that Yogi way, “No one’s asked me about that in years. So I’ll tell you.” And he told me about how much fun it was doing that.

rt: That’s when I was a Mets fan. That was Buddy Harrelson, Wayne Garrett, Tommie Agee, Jerry Grote. I’m a lefty, so Tug McGraw was my hero.

twi-ny: So you played Yogi, and then you met him on opening night of the show. What was that like?

rt: He was really sweet and really happy to be there and to be seeing this play with his wife, Carmen, having this stuff brought to life.

TWI-NY TALK: SARA FELLINI (SPIT&VIGOR: ECTOPLASM)

spit&vigor’s Ectoplasm opens January 13 at the Players Theatre (photo by Nick Thomas)

ECTOPLASM
The Players Theatre
115 MacDougal St. between West Third & Bleecker Sts.
Wednesday – Sunday, January 13 – February 6, $52-$99
www.spitnvigor.com

Sara Fellini is proud of being old school, but that doesn’t mean she’s old-fashioned. The actress, playwright, director, and amateur historian started the New York City–based spit&vigor theater company in 2015 with executive producer Adam Belvo, “dedicated to makeshift, skin-of-your-teeth, ad hoc theater — bringing modern voices and perspectives to the wild, chaotic, irreverent, burlesque roots of theater.”

The company has performed such works as Casey Wimpee’s The Brutes, about the three Booth brothers staging Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, at the Players Club, which was founded by Edwin Booth; Fellini’s NEC SPE / NEC METU, in which Fellini portrayed seventeenth-century painter Artemisia Gentileschi and Belvo played Caravaggio, at the Center at West Park; Fellini’s The Wake of Dorcas Kelly, a period piece about the death of a real-life Dublin madam in 1762 and the riot that followed; and Thomas Kee’s Mary’s Little Monster, about Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Mary Shelley. During the pandemic, they created the site-specific Luna Eclipse, which was livestreamed using one camera from the Center at West Park.

Next up for spit&vigor is Ectoplasm, running January 13 through February 6 at the Players. (The opening was delayed more than a week because of Covid.) Written and directed by Fellini, the phantasmagoric show is set in 1912 around a séance involving a famous magician, a spiritual medium, a madame, and an uninvited guest. The title refers to the eerie white substance, supposedly spiritual energy, that would emerge from the mouths of psychics as they contacted the deceased.

Below Fellini discusses her fascination with history, creating theater during the coronavirus crisis, taking risks, and more.

twi-ny: What was your initial reaction to the March 2020 pandemic lockdown?

sara fellini: Initially, I just absolutely could not fathom it. I just didn’t believe we’d go into lockdown. My reference point at that time was SARS, so I thought the panic would die down and we would continue on as we were. spit&vigor had two productions coming up at that time — as a small company, we can’t always control where or when we produce because we have to go where residencies are offered, so through no lack of desire on our part we hadn’t actually produced anything for a while and we had spent the better part of the year prepping for the productions at the New Ohio, and then our off-Broadway debut in March and May of 2020, respectively.

I could not imagine a world in which shows would be canceled. Before Covid, I’d never even heard of a rehearsal being canceled, and now two shows of ours were dropped in a matter of months. My entire worldview was changed.

twi-ny: The company is very much about site-specific, immersive productions. What were you working on at the time that couldn’t proceed?

sf: At the New Ohio, we were working on an “embedded” version of The Wake of Dorcas Kelly. We use the term embedded to mean that the audience is kind of sitting inside the brothel, like flies on the wall, watching the production. The actors don’t see or interact with the audience, but they’re very up-close and personal. So we were going to re-create the brothel inside of the New Ohio.

Then, at the Players Theatre, which is a proscenium, we were expanding our vision to create a diorama-esque version of another “embedded” play we’ve produced several times in the past, Mary’s Little Monster by Thomas Kee. We’ve produced that play before at the Mudlark Public Theatre, a one-room puppet theater in New Orleans owned by the genius Pandora Gastelum, and at Torn Page, the historic home of Rip Torn and Geraldine Page.

The Players is a great space to do very intimate-feeling shows even though it’s a larger theater, because it’s very long, and you kind of get sucked into the stage. The stage becomes your entire vision when you sit facing forward. So we were planning on doing a very intimate production of a very intimate and sultry play, with a lot of sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll . . . which now with Covid restrictions is an absolute NO for a while. Even if we staged it quite safely, I don’t think audiences are ready to see that kind of closeness onstage for a while.

twi-ny: Was Luna Eclipse already in process as an in-person show?

sf: No, I wrote Luna Eclipse as a response to the pandemic. I’ve always wanted to write a walk-through play (in person), and the pandemic gave me an opportunity to stretch that muscle. Luna Eclipse was a series of monologues exploring inherited mental illness (and the different historic perceptions of mental illness — are you a mystic visionary, or a failure to society?) through one family’s history, going all the way back to Roman times.

So I wrote the monologues, and we staged it at the Center at West Park as part of their incredible residency program. We did a lot of work to film the production, and livestream it, as a walk-through experience — like you were walking through the tunnel of time and encountering the different experiences of all of these ghosts. We essentially created a one-shot film in the vein of Russian Ark and 1917, except we did it live, as theater artists are wont to do.

Ectoplasm centers around a séance involving a famous magician (photo by Claire Daly)

twi-ny: Did you watch a lot of online theater during the lockdown?

sf: Um, no. I didn’t watch a lot of online theater. I hate to admit that, but I really dislike online theater. It’s so safe. And it completely misses the mark of what theater is supposed to be. I understand the impulse people have to stay safe physically, but online theater seems safe emotionally and I can’t really abide that. But you’re also talking to a person who doesn’t really like movies, either, so I’m already biased. We did Luna Eclipse, and we also did some live Zoom readings of classic TV shows for fun, but I am glad to be back in a theater and I wouldn’t ever really do online theater again in a serious way.

twi-ny: There have been a slew of recent works about Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley and Frankenstein, including s&v’s Mary’s Little Monster. What do you think it is about her that has stimulated such interest in the past few years?

sf: In my historical research, I’ve noticed there are cycles of time where people suddenly become interested in women creators. The story of a young woman in competition with titans of literature Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley is irresistible, especially when you factor in their libertine sexual practices.

I think Mary Shelley herself interests people today for a few reasons: because she was the daughter of the legendary feminist Mary Wollstonecraft, which shows a writing dynasty we rarely see through the mother’s line. She seems to have been sexually liberated in a way that we think we understand today, and she seems uniquely forgotten because her (male) creation is so ubiquitous while her name is not as well known. I think that’s a little bit of a false impression because fewer people could tell you that John Polidori rewrote the vampyre legend for popular Western culture, and, off the top of my head, I have no idea who created the mummy legend.

[Ed. note: Jane Louden’s novel The Mummy! A Tale of the Twenty-Second Century was published in 1827, while Bram Stoker’s The Jewel of Seven Stars, about an archaeologist trying to revive a mummy, came out in 1903, six years after Dracula.]

Writer-director Sara Fellini used models during rehearsals for Ectoplasm (photo courtesy spit&vigor theatre company)

twi-ny: You returned to in-person shows first with Dorcas Kelly, then Hit Your Mark / Die Beautiful. What was that transition like?

sf: It was incredible to be back in a theater, with people. I wouldn’t ever go back. The first few rehearsals were very emotional.

twi-ny: How has the omicron variant, which is spreading throughout New York City (I now have it too), impacted the rehearsal process for Ectoplasm?

sf: I’m so sorry to hear that, I hope you recover quickly!

We have had to be extremely creative with rehearsals. Around the holidays, we moved rehearsals to Zoom to restrict exposure, which was torture. I created a replica set out of cardboard and used little rubber penguins as actors to go over staging, which was a nightmare. But I’m glad we did it because two of our cast members actually contracted omicron and had to continue to Zoom into rehearsals as they quarantined, even while the rest of us met in person.

Beyond that, we are testing frequently, hiring swings, which we’ve never really done before, and just doing our best and working hard, both to create a beautiful production and to keep everyone safe.

twi-ny: You also have a bent for historical re-creations, with plays involving such real-life figures as Shelley, the Booth family, Caravaggio and Gentileschi, Kelly, and now Houdini. Were you always into history?

sf: Yes, I’ve always been into history. I have trouble relating to the modern world. Ever since we started spending most of our time online, people have become irritable and impatient, turning the slightest friction or conflict into all-out war, zero to sixty, and it is so frustrating to me.

So, while a lot of the ideas and prejudices of the past are nonsense and based in ignorance and inexperience, I do think there’s a lot to be learned from people who spent all of their time noticing, negotiating, and navigating other human beings. We need that human interaction as much as we need food or water — and it’s becoming harder and harder to find it, because even when you’re in the same room as someone, after the Covid pandemic (and the pandemic of computers), people turn their faces away or fidget and squirm when they’re in the presence of other humans, myself included.

I want to rediscover our shared humanity, and I think one way to do so is turning back the clocks and finding the root source. If we combine the social aspect of the past with modern perspectives on gender, race, sexual orientation, we could have an incredibly rad world to live in.

Sara Fellini checks out part of the set for new work at Players Theatre (photo courtesy spit&vigor theatre company)

twi-ny: What other historical figures might play a part in future s&v productions?

sf: I’m developing a play at the moment about the women pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Read, which is turning into a real romp.

twi-ny: You are a writer, director, costume designer, and actor. How do you juggle the four disciplines? When you are writing something, do you know immediately whether you will direct and/or star in it?

sf: I write plays for our company, so I generally have a good idea of who I want to be in it, what I want them to be wearing (from our costume stock), and how I would like the play to look. I think more writers should write like this, in a practical way — it’s very Shakespearean, or old Victorian theater.

A lot of theater productions seem a lot like film sets, with bloated production personnel and everybody in niche roles. We prefer to have an intimate team working together to create something personal. It’s riskier, because it means you take on a lot of the responsibility when something goes wrong and you can’t hide in your niche, but I think art is supposed to be risky, and I hope we don’t lose that mentality after all this time.

TWI-NY TALK: JAMAR ROBERTS OF ALVIN AILEY AMERICAN DANCE THEATER

Jamar Roberts will perform new solo on December 9 in final appearance as Ailey dancer (photo by Paul Kolnik)

ALVIN AILEY AMERICAN DANCE THEATER
New York City Center
130 West 56th St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
December 1-19, $29-$159
212-581-1212
www.alvinailey.org
www.nycitycenter.org

Jamar Roberts has spent nearly half his life with Alvin Ailey. First with Ailey II, then with Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater since 2002, the thirty-nine-year-old Miami-born Bessie Award winner was named the company’s first resident choreographer in 2019; has created such works as 2016’s Gêmeos, 2017’s Members Don’t Get Weary, 2019’s Ode, and 2020’s A Jam Session for Troubling Times, which was filmed on the roof of the troupe’s midtown studio at the Joan Weill Center for Dance.

During the pandemic, Roberts also created two short films for the Guggenheim’s Works & Process series, the fierce and unrelenting solo Cooped and A Chronicle of a Pivot at a Point in Time, a piece for five dancers in the corner of a studio, their shadows echoing hauntingly against one wall; both feature a tense electronic score by David Watson. In addition, Roberts debuted his fifteen-minute solo, Morani/Mungu (Black Warrior/Black God), at City Center’s 2021 digital Fall for Dance program.

On December 9, as part of AAADT’s annual winter season at City Center, Roberts will perform for the final time; he is retiring from dancing with the six-minute solo You Are the Golden Hour That Would Soon Evanesce, accompanied by pianist and visual artist Jason Moran playing his composition “Only the Shadow Knows (Honey).” On December 3, Ailey premiered Roberts’s mesmerizing Holding Space, which was first seen virtually. The twenty-four-minute piece for thirteen dancers, set to an electronic score by Canadian musician Tim Hecker and featuring scenic design and costumes by Roberts, explores healing and presence and is highlighted by a movable onstage open cube in which dancers perform brief solos. At the debut, I was sitting across the aisle from Roberts, whose eyes were zeroed in on the stage every second.

I spoke with the easily likable Roberts, who smiles and laughs often, over Zoom about his transition from dancer to choreographer, the future of virtual presentations, his newfound love of jazz, and more.

Jamar Roberts discusses the pandemic and his career during Zoom interview (screenshot by twi-ny/mdr)

twi-ny: When you started at Ailey, did you ever anticipate transitioning to choreography? Not all dancers want to become choreographers.

jamar roberts: No, not at all. When I got into the Ailey company, I wanted to be a fashion designer; that was the main thing on my list, and then there were three or four other things. Choreography was, like, number ten.

twi-ny: What were some of the others?

jr: Illustrator, animator, meteorologist, those kinds of things.

twi-ny: So what was your initial feeling when you were named the first resident choreographer in the company’s history?

jr: I was like, cool, only because they had hinted at it before, so I kind of felt it coming, but it didn’t really hit or register until I was well into my second piece.

twi-ny: What’s it like choreographing for your friends and colleagues?

jr: Oh, it’s great. I don’t really like the hierarchy, you know, where it’s like, I am the choreographer, I sit in the chair, you listen to me and you do what I say. I don’t really like that, so I get on the floor and I do the movements too, so for me it’s great because it feels like more of a collaborative effort, that we’re all in it trying to make the same thing. I always tell them I know everything and I know nothing at the same time. I can get the conversation started, but by the end of the day, you’re going to be the ones onstage dancing the work, so your input is essential.

twi-ny: During the pandemic you’ve been incredibly active and prolific. When did you first decide to forge ahead with virtual works?

jr: I didn’t make a decision; I would just get a commission and I would accept it. So I guess the answer to that would be when I got the first commission, which was the Guggenheim Works & Process virtual commission [Cooped.]

twi-ny: For that commission, you’re performer, choreographer, and film director. You really threw yourself right into the whole thing.

jr: Yeah, but if you make something, you’re going to have an opinion about how it should look, what environment it should be in, so the director part for me wasn’t anything more special or significant than the way that you would direct things in the studio, when you make a dance for the theater.

twi-ny: You could have put the iPhone somewhere else and not captured the same claustrophobic effect of confinement.

jr: It’s true. I think that artmaking is part, what, 20% skill, and the rest is taste; the majority of it is taste, and problem solving, and if you’re a person that’s making things and you’re relatively bright and you have a pretty good understanding of what works and what doesn’t — and some of us have that to varying degrees — you just trust your instincts and you go. I am no filmmaker, although I appreciate the sentiment; I’m not a director, but I’m an artist, I’m a person who likes creating, I’m a person who likes to see what I like to see, and if other people like to see what my eye is drawn to, then that’s great. But I’m not really here to put a title on anything. I’m just here to enjoy what it is I’m doing and feel good about it when it’s done.

twi-ny: The reaction to Cooped and so many of your other works has been phenomenal; people do want to see what you want to see. You followed Cooped with Morani/Mungu (Black Warrior/Black God), an intimate solo, and then the exhilarating Jam Session for Troubling Times, which you filmed with a team of dancers outside, although the dancers weren’t allowed to touch each other. What was it like to finally work with dancers, get out in the fresh air, yet still have this barrier, this space between each performer?

jr: When somebody tells you that you have to make a dance but they can’t touch each other, immediately it’s the end of discussion. You just have to deal with the cards you’ve been dealt. I guess at that point I just figured out, well, how am I going to do this. I didn’t really think too much about it because it was what it was.

twi-ny: It was so exciting to watch because just seeing people dance outside in this space was freeing for the viewer too. Your work during the pandemic was very much about space: Cooped is claustrophobic, Jam Session is on the Ailey rooftop, Chronicle has the dancers in a corner, and then with Holding Space you actually have a huge open cage that’s both threatening and liberating. Did these spatial elements progress naturally, or were you looking for confining imagery?

jr: The only one where I specifically looked for confining imagery was for the film Cooped. Everything else happened naturally. I think that because it happened naturally speaks to the kind of person I am. I know some people had a hard time during quarantine, stuck in their apartments, but I actually found it quite . . . great. There’s an aspect of my personality that feels very comfortable at home in confined spaces. I’m also six-four, so I’m always forced into confined spaces, like cars or airplanes. I don’t know, maybe subconsciously there’s a thing there.

twi-ny: Well, I’m much shorter than you and I don’t feel quite as confined, I think, as you do. What part of the city were you quarantining in?

jr: I was in Inwood. We were on tour in Texas in March 2020, and it got shut down. I was at home for about a week and then went to St. Louis to try to ride it out with some friends there. Cooped was made in the basement of their home. So the majority of it was in Missouri, and back and forth to New York.

twi-ny: A lot of your work, prepandemic, pre–George Floyd, and then after, is about the Black body, gun violence, racial injustice, and how Covid-19 disproportionately impacted communities of color while also celebrating, as you’ve said, “strength, beauty, and resilience.” How do you achieve this without expressing these elements explicitly?

jr: I think it’s because I’m a nice guy. [smiles] I mean, when the environment and the things that are going on around you are so heavy, you don’t have to say that much. For me, it really becomes about setting the tone for the moment and then on top of that just doing what dance does, which is inspire. Do you know what I mean? We inspire through images, beautiful images, beautiful movement. The rest is baked into the moment that we’re in.

twi-ny: On December ninth, you’ll be performing for what will be the final time, dancing You Are the Golden Hour That Would Soon Evanesce. Why did you decide now is the right time?

Jamar Roberts’s Holding Space is highlight of Ailey winter season at City Center (photo by Christopher Duggan)

jr: I decided now because my body is at the point where it can no longer keep up with the demands of a full-time professional dance career.

twi-ny: How do you think you’ll feel when it’s over? Are you going to be relieved, excited, sad, or do you have no idea?

jr: I don’t really think it’s the closing of a chapter; I think it’s the opening of a new one. This’ll probably be only the second time that I’ve ever been seen onstage doing my own work. I don’t know, I definitely won’t be crying, and I won’t feel sad at all.

twi-ny: As we come out of the lockdown and theaters are open and dancers can touch each other, do you anticipate making future virtual works or will you be sticking to in-person presentations?

jr: Why not both? I hope in the future they’re not called virtual pieces anymore, that they’ll just be called films. Because the word virtual makes it sound like it’s the B-plan. I think it’s all the same. You can have a virtual piece onstage — just throw a camera on the dancers as they’re dancing and have that be displayed. It’s all tools in the same bag; it doesn’t have to be one or the other. Yeah, I think dance has to think a little big bigger?

twi-ny: When you’re not involved with dance, and it seems like you’re always involved with dance, if you have any free time, what do you do?

jr: I try to connect with my friends and the people I love. I try to be a normal person and go to the clubs. I go to dinner and go and see shows. This past summer — summer in New York is always great because you can go and see so much music, jazz festivals in particular, jazz clubs, seeing live music and other performers. I try to keep my head in what’s going on.

twi-ny: You weren’t always a jazz fan, were you? [Roberts has set pieces to compositions by Moran, John Coltrane, Don Pullen, Nina Simone, Charlie Parker, and Dizzy Gillespie in addition to Fela Kuti and the Last Poets.]

jr: No, I grew up with Brandy, and Britney Spears, and Destiny’s Child, Beyoncé, Alanis Morissette, Björk, and all that music. My family never played jazz in the house; it was probably some gospel music, old sermons from the ’50s, and that’s it. But I had to learn it, I had to teach myself that stuff because I was dancing these works that Alvin Ailey choreographed, and they were all to jazz music. And if I wanted to be able to interpret that work authentically, I had to know what the hell it is I was listening to, where it came from, what was happening at the time in which it was made, just so that I could as a performer come across as authentic, with conviction. I went down the rabbit hole, I guess.

TWI-NY TALK: MICHAEL DORF / CITY WINERY

Entrepreneur and impresario Michael Dorf takes a much-deserved break during the pandemic (photo courtesy Michael Dorf)

City Winery New York
25 Eleventh Ave. at Fifteenth St.
646-751-6033
citywinery.com
michaeldorf.com

In Indulge Your Senses: Scaling Intimacy in a Digital World, music entrepreneur and philanthropist Michael Dorf writes about opening night at his new club, City Winery: “By then, the smartphone and social-media revolution was underway, and I realized why music fans were showing up in droves. Like me, they had inadvertently let technology disrupt their connection to music — and now they were coming to City Winery to get away from their devices. They were eager to escape their hermetic digital bubble, excited to watch their favorite musicians pluck real guitar strings and slam actual drum skins while also nourishing their other senses — the dramatic sight of a legendary performer up close, the aroma of the winery, the taste of great food and wine, the touch of a nearby friend. . . . Man, it feels great to be back in the real world.”

The Wisconsin-born longtime New Yorker and married father of three wrote those words in 2019 about a 2008 New Year’s Eve concert by Joan Osborne, but he could just as easily have written them today, as the country emerges from a lengthy pandemic lockdown. The amiable and driven Dorf started the much-loved Knitting Factory in 1986 with Louise Spitzer, when he was a twenty-three-year-old Washington University psychology and business graduate. (“We had no idea what we were doing!” he has admitted.) In 2008 he opened City Winery on Varick St., an intimate venue where fans came for food, wine, and music. Among the many acts who played there were Richard Thompson, Kasey Chambers, Robyn Hitchcock, the Mountain Goats, Living Colour, Bob Mould, Nanci Griffith, Eric Burdon, Los Lonely Boys, Lucinda Williams, Todd Rundgren, Steve Earle, Ian Hunter, Ed Sheeran, and Prince. Dorf has also presented “The Music Of” concerts at Carnegie Hall, paying tribute to such musicians as Bruce Springsteen, R.E.M., Led Zeppelin, Aretha Franklin, David Bowie, Bob Dylan, the Who, and Joni Mitchell with all-star lineups, raising money for music education in schools.

In 2020, just before the coronavirus crisis stopped the world, City Winery moved to a thirty-two-thousand-square-foot space on Pier 57 in Hudson River Park. During the pandemic, Dorf and City Winery hosted special livestreamed holiday concerts for Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, and Father’s Day and virtual seders for Passover. Early on, Dorf, who also runs City Vineyard, became a vocal advocate for the reopening of bars, restaurants, and music venues, citing numerous inconsistencies and incongruities in government regulations. Following strict CDC guidelines, City Winery is back in business, with music, food, and wine flowing. The upcoming schedule includes Suzanne Vega, John Waters, Betty, Los Lobos, Aimee Mann, and David Broza.

On December 13, City Winery and the Town Hall are joining forces for the seventh annual John Henry’s Friends benefit to raise funds for the educational needs of autistic children; the concert features Steve Earle and the Dukes with special guests Bruce Springsteen, Rosanne Cash, Willie Nile, and the Mastersons.

Dorf recently shared his thoughts with twi-ny on coming out of the lockdown, charity concerts, the future of livestreamed shows, and how great it feels to be back in the real world.

twi-ny: You were one of the leading advocates for reopening New York City, especially entertainment venues. What were the major issues that you felt the government wasn’t getting?

michael dorf: We all agreed, we needed to do things safe. But in the bureaucratic fear in the beginning, there was no practical thinking around seating vs. standing, paid tickets vs. just free music, etc. We wanted to take the smart Dr. Fauci approach to the gatherings, whether it was rapid testing, social distancing, and provide real world producer input so that we could follow what was being advised but dovetailed for live performances.

twi-ny: A lot of people like to knock Sen. Schumer, but he really pushed Save Our Stages. What was his involvement like?

md: People like to bash everyone and that is unfortunate. Chuck Schumer and several others helped enormously to push for our industry. He understood live music, theater, dance, and the impact it was having, not just on our venues, but on all our people, the ecosystem of the live entertainment world. I have tremendous respect for him because of this.

twi-ny: Your virtual seders were a blast. Going forward, will you do some kind of hybrid Passover?

md: Breaking bread (in this case matzah) around the table with other human beings is the essence of the seder. Now, my Passover event, which I’ve been doing in New York City for over twenty-five years now, is certainly not your normal seder. So, I think a hybrid is our future, three hundred people live in on our room in NYC and another few thousand around the globe.

twi-ny: You also hosted several special holiday streaming shows with artists from around the country, and you have livestreams coming up with Jacob Whitesides, Sa-Roc, the Empty Pockets, and Woofstock. Will you be doing more of that in the future, or do you see that coming to an eventual end?

md: Again, our business is to create live, intimate gatherings of people and sell them food, wine, great service, and an experience they will remember. We can’t do that as well virtually (especially the selling of wine), but certainly when it is practical for us to add the livestream for shows and events so that people who can’t travel to any of our venues can partially experience the event.

twi-ny: When you first reopened, what was the reaction of artists and audiences? Was there any initial hesitancy on the part of either or both?

md: Audiences are still a bit hesitant, especially as we live in a world where breakthrough cases happen, even with all our strict protocols of vaccine-only admissions and masks for all unless eating and drinking. Nevertheless, people miss the magic of live entertainment and when you get to it, it is an emotional experience that one misses. Artists are so grateful to be working again and audiences grateful to be entertained. Together, we are seeing lovefests every night with very happy fans and artists.

twi-ny: Were those reactions different at your various locations? Or was the situation pretty much the same in Boston, Chicago, Nashville, Atlanta, Philly, the Hudson Valley, and DC?

md: It is similar. In Nashville, perhaps a little weirder given the local political insanity and freer laws. But for the most part, we have worked hard to push smart policies on admission and staff throughout the pandemic. It’s not over either.

twi-ny: No, it’s not. City Winery is renowned for its vintages. Has the pandemic, as well as climate change, affected your vineyards?

md: Well, thanks for the positive on the wine. The pandemic has only made working in the winery and harvest more difficult from a labor perspective. However, global warming, the fires and temperature out west and in Europe, has severely affected the crop, the yield. The lack of water has made some vineyards not be able to deliver their grapes. It is only going to get more difficult for a supply of grapes, and prices on wine will be going up.

twi-ny: Are you loving your new location on the Hudson? What do you think of your neighbor, Little Island?

md: Love our new location; the entire neighborhood is filled with the arts — architecture, visual arts, cool businesses, and, yes, Little Island is very cool. We are also near the Whitney Museum, the Meatpacking District, the High Line, and so many other cool buildings.

twi-ny: City Winery has always put on terrific benefit shows, raising money for music education in schools with your annual “The Music Of” concerts at Carnegie Hall. Next up is Carly Simon in March, with Darlene Love, Livingston Taylor, Bettye Lavette, Jimmy Webb, and more to be announced. Can you share who might be feted in the future?

md: I’m a kid in a candy shop, thinking about the future shows at Carnegie. The music of Stevie Wonder, CSN, Dolly Parton, U2, Sting, so many other great songwriters out there to do. There are so many artists that love them and want to pay homage to them. And there remains much-needed cash to the music programs that serve undersupported youth in schools around the country.

twi-ny: On December 13, you’re teaming up with the Town Hall for the seventh annual John Henry’s Friends Benefit, featuring Steve Earle & the Dukes and several of his amazing colleagues. What can you tell us about that show and the charity?

md: We have done this to support our friend Steve Earle, who is really the hero of this evening. His son is autistic and goes to the Keswell School, which this benefits. Steve makes the importance of this real by explaining to the audience the severity and challenges and why we need to support this program. It’s very powerful stuff, and this year’s show is going to blow people away. It feels great for all of us at City Winery to help raise these important funds.

twi-ny: You seem to have been going nonstop for decades; do you ever take a break? When you’re not at City Winery, what cultural things are you doing elsewhere?

md: I like to hike, need to hike. I like to golf, need to golf. I like wine, I like my kids, I like my friends. But I love what I do. I love creating spaces where people can gather, indulge their senses, and creating lasting memories. It keeps me going, and we have a lot more still to do and grow. Five new locations in 2022 and many more before I am done.

TWI-NY TALK: STEPHEN PETRONIO / PETRONIO’S PUNK PICKS AND OTHER DELIGHTS

Stephen Petronio leads an open rehearsal in preparation for La MaMa shows (photo by Paula Court)

PETRONIO’S PUNK PICKS AND OTHER DELIGHTS
La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club
The Ellen Stewart Theatre
66 East Fourth St. between Second Ave. & Bowery
November 18-21, $21-$30
212-475-7710
www.lamama.org
petron.io/event/lamama

At a recent open rehearsal streamed on Zoom, Newark-born, Manhattan-based choreographer Stephen Petronio said, “Wouldn’t it be fun to look back at some of those works from some of those smaller little gems that we love.” The result is “Petronio’s Punk Picks and Other Delights,” running November 18–21 at La MaMa. The evening consists of eleven short solos and duets, going back to 1993, set to songs by the Stranglers, the London Suede, Anohni, Nick Cave, Elvis Presley, Yoko Ono, Rufus Wainwright, and Radiohead, as well as Igor Stravinsky’s “Le Sacre Du Printemps,” performed by Larissa Asebedo, Kris Lee, Jaqlin Medlock, Tess Montoya, Tiffany Ogburn, Ryan Pliss, Nicholas Sciscione, and Mac Twining. Petronio will also present the world premiere of Johnnie Cruise Mercer’s multimedia and then we hit the boundary where the sun’s wind ceases . . . , with music by LVDF, Heliopause, and Anne Müller.

Founded in 1984, the Stephen Petronio Company was one of the busiest troupes during the pandemic. Beaming in first from their individual homes, then gathering together at the Petronio Residency Center (PRC), a 175-acre haven in the Catskills, the tight-knit company performed new pieces, hosted online galas and master classes, put on a virtual season at the Joyce, and had a public birthday party for Petronio. Over that time, Petronio kept a quarantine journal that has been published in a deluxe hardcover limited edition, In Absentia, with lavish photos by Sarah Silver and Grant Friedman. In addition, Petronio is expanding his Bloodlines program, in which he restages classic works by such choreographers as Yvonne Rainer, Merce Cunningham, Martha Graham, and Trisha Brown, to include a “futures” section that so far has featured new commissions by Davalois Fearon and Mercer.

While preparing for SPC’s debut at La MaMa, the always engaging and candid Petronio answered questions about choreographing “when the world stopped,” returning to the stage, what music is on his current playlist, and more.

Stephen Petronio released the deluxe hardcover book In Absentia during the pandemic (photo by Sarah Silver)

twi-ny: Let’s start with perhaps the most obvious question: How does it feel to be back working in theaters? At your open rehearsal following Fall for Dance, you said “it was exciting and frightening and emotional.”

stephen petronio: It’s all of those things but particularly with this body of work, it’s like finally, we can really focus in with a microscope on some of the details that are the underpinnings of what is at the center of a particular body of work and the delicious focus of what we do in the studio.

twi-ny: SPC was one of the most active companies during the pandemic lockdown. How soon after March 2020 did you decide to forge ahead at such a pace online?

sp: I decided immediately because that’s my survival instinct. My legs kept moving and I felt that to stop, we would all be overwhelmed with uncertainty and fear. I thought it best to use our physical practice to keep us grounded.

twi-ny: How important was PRC to that decision?

sp: I don’t think we would have been able to do it without PRC. First of all, I had a completely safe space to work in and I immediately began teaching classes on Zoom to the dancers just as a way of being together and then we began making on Zoom as a way of staying in touch with our practice. Then I began to realize that we could actually make stuff to show other people. I could only do that because of PRC. And then when I was able to work out the finances, I was able to bring the company up fairly regularly for a few weeks at a time across those endless months of lockdown. We also quickly realized that we could be a haven for other choreographers who could make it up to us.

twi-ny: You really took advantage of everything that Zoom has to offer. What was it like choreographing such virtual works as #GimmeShelter and Are You Lonesome Tonight that way?

sp: A complete nightmare! I hadn’t seen Zoom before the pandemic and it took me time to understand the lag time in relationship to making movement with music. And I also began to see many other people working on Zoom and some it was really fun and inventive and I was looking for a way to use the technology in a method that was true to my own work.

twi-ny: You also celebrated your sixty-fifth birthday over Zoom; did you have a good time? It was fun to watch.

sp: I had an amazing time and it was very emotional because it was such a lonely and isolated time; it was really fun to be with people in a very relaxed way.

twi-ny: You kept a journal during the pandemic that you’ve released as a deluxe book, In Absentia. What spurred you to keep that kind of diary?

sp: When the world stopped, I began to do all the things that I do that remind me of myself, remind me of my body, my thoughts, my emotional life, and so I went to writing as a natural response to check in with myself in a regular way. I did a memoir, Confessions of a Motion Addict, about ten years back and so a writing practice is not new to me and it seemed like such an important event that we were living through that I wanted to mark it in some way.

Jaqlin Medlock dances from her home during online presentation (photo courtesy Stephen Petronio Company)

twi-ny: My two favorite dancers during the lockdown were Sara Mearns and Jaqlin Medlock. (I named them Best Solo Dance Performance in the twi-ny Pandemic Awards, along with Jamar Roberts.) You have such an amazing rapport with Medlock, which was evident in your recent open rehearsal; what makes her the ideal SPC dancer?

sp: She is sharp as a razor, I’ve known her for over ten years so we’re so fluid together in terms of my thought process and language, and she’s incredibly determined to get things exactly the way she wants it. She’s a monster for details, and watching that [#GimmeShelter] solo come into focus up to the final recording was such a delight.

twi-ny: SPC performed at Fall for Dance at City Center, and next up is La MaMa. You’ve never performed there before, although I believe you’ve lived near there for a long time. What made you want to perform there this time around?

sp: I moved onto St. Marks Place in 1979 and lived there for many, many years. Normally, it’s hard for me to figure out the finances for my company’s performance in a theater of that size. My executive director, Jonas Klabin, was having drinks with the director of programming, Nicky Paraiso, of La MaMa at a performance and began to open up a discussion about it. Of course, I’ve known Nicky for years. But this is a time to do things that we really want to and let the economics fall as they may. La MaMa is such a gem of a place to perform and this is the perfect moment.

twi-ny: I love La MaMa, and I see Nicky all over town, always checking out what’s going on. “Petronio’s Punk Picks and Other Delights” consists of eleven numbers set to music by a wide range of artists. You’ve previously done an evening of songs by Nick Cave, Underland; if you could choreograph a whole album by anyone, what would it be? Is there a specific song you’d love to choreograph but haven’t been able to?

sp: Nick Cave was a highlight. I did a work to a catalog of Lou Reed songs [The Island of Misfit Toys], which was another miraculous moment in my life. I’ve been tempted to tackle Leonard Cohen’s body of work but his poetry is so dense that I’ve been hesitant. Leonard Cohen’s song “Democracy” is an anthem I’d love to have a go at!

Stephen Petronio walks down the outside of the Whitney as part of Trisha Brown retrospective (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

twi-ny: I would love to see that! What kind of music do you listen to when you’re not thinking about songs for dances?

sp: I’m listening to Bach a lot, Billie Eilish; I’m very fond of female vocalists in particular. Lana Del Rey has a new album out that’s pretty damn good. And I’m loving St. Vincent.

twi-ny: Now that you’ve embraced the virtual world, do you see the future of SPC as a hybrid one, or are you going to concentrate solely on in-person shows?

sp: I think it’s inevitable that we’re going to become hybridized. We jumped in and we’re in. But it’s so delicious to be back in front of an audience. And the shows at La MaMa are a total love letter to the people that have been following me over the years. It’s really fun to make a show that’s so much about the joy of the work that I’ve made with incredible dancers over the years and to music that I completely love. This is music that has moved me, and to pass it to this current generation of titan dancers seems just right. We’re still here!

TWI-NY TALK: MARTÍN BONDONE / ODD MAN OUT

Martín Bondone and Teatro Ciego are bringing unique presentation to New York City (photo courtesy Odd Man Out)

ODD MAN OUT
Flea Theater
20 Thomas St. between Broadway & Church St.
Original run: Tuesday – Sunday, November 3 – December 4, general admission $50 ($35 November 3-8); VIP $90
Encore engagement: Tuesday – Sunday, January 18 – February 19, general admission $50 ($35 seniors and students); VIP $90
oddmanoutnyc.com
theflea.org

One of the most unusual theatrical experiences I had during the pandemic lockdown was Odd Man Out, which arrived at my apartment in a box. An international collaboration between TheaterC in New York and Teatro Ciego in Argentina, the package contained items that interacted with all five senses, including an eye mask that was to be worn while while listening to an audio stream through your own headphones.

The sixty-five-minute show, written by Martín Bondone, directed by Bondone, Carlos Armesto, and Facundo Bogarín, and featuring original music by Mirko Mescia and sound design by Nicolas Alvarez, was originally performed with an in-person cast and audience at Teatro Ciego in Buenos Aires, a company that specializes in productions in complete darkness. Nearly half the troupe is either blind or has low vision. Recorded using 360-degree binaural technology that makes it feel as if the characters are moving around in space, the play follows successful blind Argentine musician Alberto Rinaldi (Gonzalo Trigueros) as he flies on Pitchblack Airlines from New York City back to Buenos Aires. During the trip, his mind is flooded with memories of seminal moments from his life, involving his mother (Alejandra Buljevich) and father (Ignacio Borderes), his teacher (Buljevich), his music partner Jamal Jordan (Modesto Lacen), and his true love, Clara (Carmen Boria).

Delayed by the pandemic, Odd Man Out is making its New York premiere November 3 to December 4 at the Flea, where the blindfolded audience will put on headphones and experience the show together, as if they’re all on the same plane, sitting next to Rinaldi as he shares his tale. Preparing for the official opening on November 9, Bondone discussed theater, the coronavirus crisis, blind artists, and more with twi-ny. [Ed. note: The show is back for an encore engagement January 18 to February 19.]

twi-ny: What prompted the beginning of Teatro Ciego?

martín bondone: In 1991, there was an experimental theater course in my hometown, Cordoba, Argentina. The roots of theater in the dark are in Zen meditation: Darkness is used as a medium to find oneself. After years of development, in 2001, blind artists started getting involved in the company, and in 2008 the first Teatro Ciego space was founded in Buenos Aires. This will be the first space in the world that offers a complete repertoire of shows developed in complete darkness. Teatro Ciego develops experiences in the dark that range from dining experiences to kids shows. We have since then grown the brand to tour in Latin America, Spain, and, most recently, New York.

Odd Man Out offered a theatrical journey in a box to be experienced at home during the pandemic (photo by twi-ny/ees)

twi-ny: Odd Man Out was here just prior to the pandemic, with live actors; how did the idea to package the experience at home in a sensory box come about?

mb: When the quarantine mandates closed everything around the world, we were forced to put a stop to all planned productions in both Argentina and New York and the Latin American tour. We employ over one hundred people, which made the shock huge both financially and emotionally. We produce one hundred percent of our shows, but we also have a marketing division where we create experiences in the dark for companies and institutions.

The first few weeks we spent figuring out how to keep the story going, and the emerging feeling was “If people can’t go to the theater, we will bring the theater to the people.” We created a sensorial box with an eye mask and different elements that would allow the person to smell, taste, touch, and hear the experience from home. The audio was accessed through a QR code and heard from the person’s own headphones.

This alternative was a huge success and allowed us to keep our doors open and our employees working during those tough times.

twi-ny: I loved the at-home presentation. How do you anticipate that my experience in person will be different?

mb: There’s already a shift in energy when you go to a physical space and share an experience with others. That’s what makes the theater such a wonderful place. This experience is called “semi-live” since, despite listening to the experience with an individual device, we have staff members operating the rest of the devices that will allow you to feel the many sensorial moments throughout the story: wind, rain, various smells, etc. It’s a completely different experience when you can just surrender to things happening and enjoy the ride.

Audiences gather together to experience Odd Man Out in person (photo courtesy Odd Man Out)

twi-ny: Are there plans to eventually stage the show with live actors again?

mb: Yes, it’s our goal to be able to build an organization that trains and employs people to develop Teatro Ciego’s technique in New York. Once the situation changes and we can safely achieve our goal, we look forward to sharing this dream of ours with the New York theater scene.

twi-ny: Did you find yourself more or less productive during the pandemic?

mb: From a distance now, yes, maybe a bit less productive. It was hard to regroup and rebuild our team. This crisis forced us to think outside our comfort zone and face a tough situation. Luckily we came out stronger than before, and now we are able to offer the variety of shows we were offering before the pandemic. What sets us apart is that we never stopped working, training, and growing, and now we have new options to offer that we wouldn’t have if not faced by adversity.

twi-ny: Another touring show, Simon Stephens’s Blindness, involves headphones, binaural recording, and not-quite-total darkness, with no actors present. Do you see such shows as being a temporary by-product of the pandemic, or do you think it has a future of its own, especially since it can be available to people all over the world?

mb: No one really knows what the future holds, especially now. However, we have a history of successfully building this type of sensorial shows for over fifteen years in Argentina and the rest of the world. In fact, we developed a binaural sound show for a Disney event over ten years ago.

We are proud to say we are pioneers at utilizing this technology for theatrical experiences. We humans crave new experiences constantly; we need to be challenged and entertained from new perspectives. We hope to keep feeding this need for new experiences and challenging our senses for many years to come.

twi-ny: Since Teatro Ciego started, great strides have been made regarding the acceptance of creators and performers with different abilities in hearing, seeing, and body, although we still have a long way to go. Has that been a noticeable change with Teatro Ciego, either with the cast or the audience? What barriers need to be taken down next?

mb: One of the best things about working in darkness is that everyone involved in the experience, actors, technicians, audiences, are equals. By removing the visual stimuli, all the preconceived biases of color, gender, size, physical ability are removed.

We are in a moment in history where all social movements are facing that inclusive direction and we need to keep working together to finally have equal treatment for everyone regardless of their skin tone, gender, sexuality, nationality, religion, or physical condition.

Odd Man Out re-creates a flight taking a blind musician back home to Buenos Aires (photo courtesy Odd Man Out)

twi-ny: In school you studied social economics; has that had an impact on your approach to writing?

mb: Not so much for writing but definitely for producing. Argentina has a lot of incredibly beautiful, artistic ideas that usually die for the lack of a business mind. By developing Teatro Ciego as a social construct but also economically sustainable, we won the freedom to let our imagination soar. Writing comes more from my personal experiences and my life. From my own universe.

twi-ny: Care to share what you’re working on next?

mb: Right now we are focused on the opening of Odd Man Out at the Flea.

We are also working on developing the American version of our current kids experience, Mi Amiga la Oscuridad (“My Friend the Darkness”). We are also developing partnerships with various New York City restaurants for our dining experience “A Ciegas Gourmet” (“Blind Gourmet”). In the far distance, we dream of a live musical in complete darkness.

twi-ny: That sounds exciting. During the pandemic, New York City became a ghost town; what was Buenos Aires like during Covid?

mb: The pandemic was a big reminder that we are really all connected. Just like New York, Buenos Aires was a desert. Economically, we took a huge hit to an already damaged structure, and the cultural and touristic areas were gravely impacted. We feel super privileged to be able to return to what we love doing and having such a great response from our audience.

twi-ny: Finally, if you’re coming to New York City for the show, what else do you plan to do while you’re here, now that just about everything has reopened?

mb: We plan to travel to New York City again next year when we hope to be able to develop the full show, to hire and train a full company that can work in complete darkness. For this opportunity, we were lucky to have our lead producer and resident director, fellow Argentinian Lola Lopez Guardone, fly to Buenos Aires to train with us and bring the specifics to New York. Lola is a New York City resident and has ample experience in immersive theater. Between her, our partner Carlos Armesto, and the whole PITCHBLACK team in New York, we know our show is in good hands. However, we look forward to visiting the city again in 2022 and hopefully experience Sleep No More, which we couldn’t get to on our last trip.