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UNDER THE RADAR: HAMLET | TOILET

Hamlet (Takuro Takasaki) is in desperate need of a bowel movement in HAMLET | TOILET (photo © Maria Baranova)

HAMLET | TOILET
Japan Society
333 East 47th St. at First Ave.
January 10-13, $35
japansociety.org

To go, or not to go? That is the multilayered question asked in Yu Murai and Kaimaku Pennant Race’s absurdist, scatological HAMLET | TOILET, continuing at Japan Society through January 13 as part of the Under the Radar festival.

As you enter Japan Society, you are greeted by a different kind of step and repeat; instead of posing in front of a show logo, you can snap a selfie with a glitteringly white Japanese Toto washlet on a red platform, a fancy toilet with such special features as a heated seat and a bidet. It sets the mood for what is to follow, ninety minutes of controlled chaos involving more flatulence than the beans scene in Mel Brooks’s Blazing Saddles.

Murai has previously reimagined works by William Shakespeare in Romeo and Toilet and Ashita no Ma-Joe: Rocky Macbeth, wildly unpredictable tales that incorporate dance, music, strange props, and bizarre costumes. HAMLET | TOILET sits comfortably within that oeuvre. The production takes place in and around a three-stall installation, an open cube with a back wall and no doors. The three actors, Takuro Takasaki, G. K. Masayuki, and Yuki Matsuo, are dressed in unflattering white body-hugging latex suits reminiscent of the spermatozoa in Woody Allen’s Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* (*But Were Afraid to Ask).

Plenty of flatulence is on the menu in unique adaptation of Hamlet at Japan Society (photo © Maria Baranova)

The essence of the Bard’s tragedy is in there, somewhere: Hamlet’s (Takasaki) uncle, Claudius (Masayuki), has killed Hamlet’s father, married his mother, and become king. Hamlet is in love with Ophelia (Masayuki), whose brother, expert fencer Laertes (Matsuo), is not a Hamlet fan. Hamlet’s besties, Horatio (Masayuki) and Marcellus (Matsuo), have encountered the ghost of their friend’s father, who tells his son that his murder must be avenged. To do so, Hamlet has to face his conscience, which is not lodged in his brain or heart but in his painful belly — the load he is carrying is an intensifying bowel movement that his multidimensional constipation will not allow him to release.

For much of the show, the actors are in the middle stall, trying to take dumps, either squatting by themselves or sitting on a cushiony human bowl formed by the other two actors. They gleefully pass gas that is projected in colorful animation by Takashi Kawasaki, accompanied by the appropriate sounds. The characters discuss aspects of making number two in ways that no play or novel that I know of ever has; no bathroom subject or feces joke is off limits, regardless of how silly or lowbrow. Nobody can find relief, not even from Ophelia’s headdress, which consists of dozens of rolls of toilet paper.

Amid deep dives into the shape, consistency, aroma, and chocolatey nature of human waste, Murai also delves into cowardice, sanity, suffering, and revenge. The dialogue is similarly mixed; Hamlet veterans will appreciate such real Shakespearean lines as “That adulterate beast won to his shameful lust . . . my queen,” “Never make known what you have seen [and heard] tonight,” “[I am going to] put an antic disposition on,” and “I should have fatted all the region kites / With this slave’s offal: bloody, bawdy villain!”

Purists might grimace at the more coarse language, such as “Something must be born that will trace a single line / like a magnificent line of feces / straight through all of this wonderful society,” “Please, just this once / couldn’t it be soft and gently flow like water,” “You must cleanly and completely defecate me!” and “In a world that is moved by the strict laws of almighty God / that which should not have moved has passed / That’s why my movement will not pass!” Even the subtitles themselves are in on the fun, changing the spelling and capitalization of nec-ASS-arily and BUTT (instead of but).

The three actors occasionally break out into song and dance; the music is by DJ and hip-hop producer Tsutchie from Shakkazombie, with hilarious choreography by Shinnosuke Motoyama. There’s far too much repetition, as numerous jokes spew out like the preparation for a colonoscopy, and in one scene the play makes fun of that itself as repeated statements fill up the subtitles monitor in ever-smaller type. But just when you think the production is merely a fart-fantasy concocted by Eric Cartman or Beavis and Butt-Head, Murai slips in something ridiculously clever so you won’t lose your appetite; it’s not merely Shakespeare as bathroom reading, although that’s in there too. Murai is not claiming that Shakespeare, or theater in general, is full of shit, but it might be in need of a thorough cleansing.

Which brings us back to the original question: To go, or not to go? HAMLET | TOILET is certainly not for everyone; some gags were met with laughter and applause, while others received random chuckles or guffaws — or silence. If you do get a ticket — the January 12 performance will be followed by an artist Q&A — be sure to use the facilities, which have several washlets, in addition to doors to ASSure your privacy.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

HELL’S KITCHEN

A jubilant cast lifts Hell’s Kitchen at the Public Theater (photo by Joan Marcus)

HELL’S KITCHEN
Newman Theater, the Public Theater
425 Lafayette St. at Astor Pl.
Tuesday – Sunday through January 14, $175
publictheater.org

Hell’s Kitchen, heading from the Public to the Shubert — it ends its run downtown January 14 and starts previews on Broadway on March 28 — (mostly) succeeds where New York, New York failed. Both stories take place in the city, use stage scaffolding to replicate fire escapes, follow the relationship between a man and woman involved in music, and are built around a hugely popular hit song about New York.

The latter, based on Martin Scorsese’s 1977 film, declares, “If I can make it there, I’d make it anywhere,” while the former proclaims that New York is a “concrete jungle where dreams are made of / There’s nothing you can’t do / Now you’re in New York!” But where New York, New York felt like a miscast movie shot in Toronto, Hell’s Kitchen, inspired by the life of Alicia Keys (who wrote the music and lyrics), has a far more legitimate feel, a more “empire state of mind,” flaws and all.

Maleah Joi Moon makes an explosive professional debut as Ali, a seventeen-year-old girl living with her extremely protective single mother, Jersey (Shoshana Bean), in a “one-bedroom apartment on the forty-second floor of a forty-four-story building on Forty-Third Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues, right in the heart of the neighborhood some people know as Hell’s Kitchen.” The building is filled with artists, including a trumpeter on thirty-two, a dance class on twenty-seven, opera singers on seventeen, poets on nine, painters on eight, a string section on seven through four, and a gospel pianist in the Ellington Room on the ground floor.

It’s summer in the 1990s, and Ali has decided it’s time for her to get busy with the older Knuck (Chris Lee), who drums on buckets in the street with his friends Q (Jakeim Hart) and Riq (Lamont Walker II). Ali and her homegirls, Jessica (Jackie Leon) and Tiny (Vanessa Ferguson), are sure the men are “up to no good,” but as Ali says, “We need that trouble in our lives.”

Knuck (Chris Lee) and Ali (Maleah Joi Moon) find themselves in trouble in Alicia Keys musical (photo by Joan Marcus)

That’s the last thing Jersey wants for her daughter, so she enlists her besties, Millie (Mariand Torres) and Crystal (Crystal Monee Hall), and jovial doorman Ray (Chad Carstarphen) to keep an eye on Ali’s comings and goings. Jersey does not want what happened to her — an early, unwanted pregnancy by an unreliable man, a jazz musician named Davis (Brandon Victor Dixon) — to happen to her stubborn daughter.

As she prepares for her potential sexual awakening, Ali becomes intrigued by Miss Liza Jane (Kecia Lewis), the elderly woman who plays the piano in the Ellington Room and soon becomes Ali’s mentor. But the trouble that Ali soon encounters is not the trouble she needs.

Hell’s Kitchen is structured around two dozen Keys songs, from such albums as 2001’s Songs in A Minor, 2003’s The Diary of Alicia Keys, 2007’s As I Am, 2012’s Girl on Fire, 2020’s Alicia, and 2021’s Keys, and three new tunes written specifically for the show, “The River,” “Seventeen,” and “Kaleidoscope.” The orchestrations by Tom Kitt and Adam Blackstone are lively, and Camille A. Brown’s choreography captures the energy of the street on Robert Brill’s set, enhanced by projections of the neighborhood by Peter Nigrini. The naturalistic costumes are by Dede Ayite, with effective lighting by Natasha Katz and sound by Gareth Owen.

The show is directed with a vibrant sense of urgency by Tony nominee Michael Greif (Dear Evan Hansen, Next to Normal), but the book by Kristoffer Diaz (The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity, Welcome to Arroyo’s) languishes in clichés, including several cringey scenes that don’t feel real, creating a choppy narrative that doesn’t flow like Keys’s music.

Moon is magnetic as Ali; you can’t take your eyes off her for even a second. Tony nominee Bean (Mr. Saturday Night, Waitress) is engaging as the overwrought mother, shaking things up with “Pawn It All,” while Obie winner Lewis (Dreamgirls, Ain’t Misbehavin’) nearly steals the show as Miss Liza Jane, channeling Maya Angelou when she says such lines as “I will not allow you to let the pain win,” then bringing down the house with “Perfect Way to Die.” Lee (Hamilton) has just the right hesitation as Knuck, acknowledging the obstacles he faces every step of the way, and Carstarphen (Between the Bars, Neon Baby) is eminently likable as the adorable doorman.

In the last nine years, the Public has seen a bunch of shows transfer to Broadway, with differing levels of success (Hamilton, Fun Home, Ain’t No Mo’, for colored girls who have considered suicide / when the rainbow is enuf, Fat Ham, and Here Lies Love, with Suffs coming in April). With some significant tweaking, Hell’s Kitchen has the chance to be both a critical and popular hit on the big stage.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

NEW YORK JEWISH FILM FESTIVAL 2024

Adam Breier’s All About the Levkoviches is part of 2024 NYJFF

THIRTY-THIRD ANNUAL NEW YORK JEWISH FILM FESTIVAL
Walter Reade Theater, Film at Lincoln Center
165 West 65th St. between Broadway & Amsterdam Aves.
January 10-24, $14-$17
212-875-5050
www.filmlinc.org
thejewishmuseum.org

With the scourge that is antisemitism on the rise yet again, this time spurred by Hamas’s October 7 terrorist attack on Israel and the IDF’s military response, it feels like a political statement just to attend the thirty-third annual New York Jewish Film Festival, taking place January 10–24 at the Walter Reade Theater at Lincoln Center. The 2024 iteration consists of more than two dozen features, documentaries, and shorts from Hungary, Poland, Germany, the Czech Republic, France, Italy, Austria, the UK, Israel, Ukraine, and America, exploring such topics as antisemitism, family estrangement, Nazi-looted art, the 1976 trial of Pierre Goldman, Klezmer music, survival in the desert, excommunicated philosopher Baruch Spinoza, and the Shabbos goy.

The opening night selection is the New York premiere of James Hawes’s One Life, in which Sir Anthony Hopkins portrays Sir Nicholas Winton, an unassuming British stockbroker who was a quiet WWII hero; producer Joanna Laurie will participate in a postscreening discussion. The centerpiece film is the New York premiere of Michal Vinik’s Valeria Is Getting Married, about two Ukrainian sisters who come to Israel and get involved in contemporary arranged marriages. The festival closes with Ron Frank’s documentary Remembering Gene Wilder, a celebration of the beloved stage and screen star, with reminiscences from Mel Brooks, Alan Alda, Carol Kane, Harry Connick Jr., Rain Pryor, and others; the New York premiere will be introduced by executive producer Julie Nimoy and followed by a talk with Frank, writer Glenn Kirschbaum, and Peter Ostrum, who played Charlie Bucket in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, his only film role.

Below are five films to watch out for; most screenings throughout the festival will be followed by a discussion with directors, producers, subjects, cast members, or experts.

The 1939 Yiddish melodrama Mothers of Today will be shown at NYJFF in a 35mm restoration

MOTHERS OF TODAY (Henry Lynn, 1939)
Thursday, January 11, 2:30
Sunday, January 14, 12:00
www.filmlinc.org

Yiddish radio star Esther Field, the “Yiddishe Mama,” made her only film appearance in Henry Lynn’s 1939 shund film, Mothers of Today, being shown in a 35mm restoration at the festival, followed by a discussion with National Center for Jewish Film codirectors Lisa Rivo and Sharon Rivo. It’s a working-class immigration melodrama about a widow trying to hold on to Jewish tradition as her children begin straying from the religion in America. The film was shot in the Bronx and features Jewish songs and prayers, including the Kiddush, “Got Fun Avrohom,” and Kol Nidrei.

Gad Elmaleh’s autobiographical comedy Stay with Us deals with religious conversion

STAY WITH US (Gad Elmaleh, 2022)
Thursday, January 11, 5:30
Wednesday, January 24, 4:00
www.filmlinc.org

A minor controversy erupted when it was reported in 2022 that Moroccan-Canadian-French Jewish comedian and actor Gad Elmaleh had converted to Christianity. It wasn’t true, but Elmaleh had studied Christianity extensively, resulting in his autobiographical comedy Stay with Us, in which he plays a Jewish man named Gad who announces to his family, played by his actual mother, father, and sister, that he is converting to Catholicism. Just wait till you see his parents’ reaction when his mother finds a statue of the Virgin Mary in his suitcase. “Get your fingers off it!” his father declares.

The Books He Didn’t Burn goes inside Adolf Hitler’s private library

THE BOOKS HE DIDN’T BURN (Claus Bredenbrock & Jascha Hannover, 2023)
Monday, January 15, 1:00
www.filmlinc.org

Jeremy Irons narrates Claus Bredenbrock and Jascha Hannover’s The Books He Didn’t Burn, which asks the question “Can literature provide a handbook for mass murder?” as American historian Timothy Ryback examines Adolf Hitler’s book collection, which totaled sixteen thousand at the time of his suicide. “Our whole notion, going back to the ancient Greeks, that art, beauty, literature ennobles the human spirit . . . Hitler’s library turns this whole thing on its head,” Ryback says in the film. Hannover will participate in a discussion after the screening.

Isabelle Cottenceau immerses viewers into the life and career of designer Gaby Aghion in Looking for Chloé

LOOKING FOR CHLOÉ (Isabelle Cottenceau, 2023)
Saturday, January 20, 7:00
www.filmlinc.org

The Jewish Museum is currently hosting the wide-ranging exhibition “Mood of the Moment: Gaby Aghion and the House of Chloé,” about the Jewish Egyptian entrepreneur who founded the French fashion house Chloé. In Looking for Chloé, Isabelle Cottenceau follows the life and career of Gaby Aghion, who was born Gabrielle Hanoka in Egypt in 1921; launched Chloé in 1952; hired Karl Lagerfeld, Stella McCartney, and Phoebe Philo; and had such clients as Brigitte Bardot, Jackie Kennedy, and Maria Callas. Aghion was married to her husband, gallery owner and fellow political activist and intellectual Raymond Aghion, for nearly seventy years and was a leader in the development of prêt-à-porter. Producer Sophie Jeaneau and Museum at FIT director Dr. Valerie Steele will be on hand for a postscreening discussion.

Adam Low digs deep into James Joyce’s 1922 novel, Ulysses, in 2022 doc

JAMES JOYCE’S ULYSSES (Adam Low, 2022)
Sunday, January 21, 1:00
www.filmlinc.org

In honor of the centennial of the publication of James Joyce’s Ulysses, documentarian Adam Low goes behind-the-scenes of the writing, publication, and legacy of the notoriously difficult 1922 novel, set during one June day in Dublin in 1904. In the film, British journalist and novelist Howard Jacobson declares that the book is “the greatest Jewish novel of the twentieth century — the first one with a Jew at its very center,” Leopold Bloom. Low also speaks with Salman Rushdie, Colm Tóibín, Anne Enright, Eimear McBride, Paul Muldoon, John McCourt, Nuala O’Connor, Vivienne Igoe, and others as he details the heroic efforts by such people as Margaret Anderson, Jane Heap, Sylvia Beach, Harriet Shaw Weaver, and Nora Barnacle, who played such important roles in its ultimate success. Low and producer Martin Rosenbaum will be on hand for a postscreening talk.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

POETIC TRIGONOMETRY

Who: Clara Joy, K. Porcelain, Ed Pankov
What: Music and poetry in conjunction with the exhibit “Bey, Nkem & Elechi: A Triangulation”
Where: ChaShaMa Gallery, 340 East Sixty-Fourth St. between First & Second Aves.
When: Wednesday, January 10, suggested donation $10-$20, 6:00
Why: In conjunction with the Gallery Particulier show “Bey, Nkem & Elechi: A Triangulation” at ChaShaMa on the Upper East Side, which closes on January 13, a special celebratory event is being held on January 10 at 6:00, “Poetic Trigonometry,” featuring musician and artist Clara Joy, musician K. Porcelain, and poet, mystic, musician, and ordained minister Ed Pankov. The exhibition, curated by Grace Nkem and Arabella von Arx, puts works by Nkem, Amir Bey, and Obinna Elechi in conversation, exploring cultural identity and colonialism via the African diaspora through paintings, drawings, and sculpture, including Figure in a Corridor by Nkem, Purple Mask by Bey, and The Everything by Elechi.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

Out-FRONT! Festival

Ogemdi Ude’s Hear is part of Pioneers Go East Collective’s Out-FRONT! Festival (photo by Maria Baranova)

Out-FRONT! FESTIVAL
LGBT Community Center, 208 West Thirteenth St.
Abrons Arts Center, 466 Grand St.
January 10–20, free – $28.52 (suggested donation)
pioneersgoeast.org

Pioneers Go East Collective, which is dedicated to “radical queer performance, dance, and film for social change,” is presenting the 2024 Out-FRONT! Festival, taking place January 10-15 at the LGBT Community Center and January 17-20 at Abrons Arts Center. The bill features live performances by Arthur Aviles and Collaborators, Joey Kipp with Pioneers, Christopher Unpezverde Núñez, Jason Anthony Rodriguez, Paz Tanjuaquio, Ogemdi Ude, and Annie MingHao Wang; workshops with Rodriguez and Magda Kaczmarska; and a film program.

“This year’s festival brings together ten extraordinary multigenerational artists whose socially engaged practices explore issues of race, gender, disability, grief, migration, and our collective humanity in ways that continue to inspire us,” Pioneers artistic director Gian Marco Riccardo Lo Forte said in a statement. “We created Out-FRONT! to both celebrate artists with community-driven approaches to art-making and to offer them a platform to share their work with audiences during the Association of Performing Arts Professionals conference, an opportunity we hope provides new connections and sparks a positive dialogue about creative participation in shared spaces.”

Rodriguez, who played Lemar Wintour on Pose, will stage Take a Good Look with Dominican dancer and actor Gaymer and the solo Meet Me in the Moon. Aviles’s Naked Vanguard series continues with reimaginations of earlier works (Morning Dance, In the End, Let’s Begin, and A Jamaican BattyBwoy in America) in addition to the world premiere of Untitled #5A After Ted Shawn AKA Dansé Mexicaine & Jamaïquaine Américaine, performed by Nikolai McKenzie Ben Rema, Hunter Sturgis, and Aviles. The film screenings consist of a new short by Fana Fraser, And I was recognized by Omega X, Danni Venne, Matt Harvey, and Laura Marie Marciano, and The Personal Things by Tourmaline.

Below is the full schedule; admission to all events is free with RSVP (suggested donation $25).

Wednesday, January 10
Jason Anthony Rodriguez, Take a Good Look / Meet Me in the Moon, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 8:00

Thursday, January 11
Jason Anthony Rodriguez, Take a Good Look / Meet Me in the Moon, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 7:00

Joey Kipp with Pioneers Go East Collective, Tracing Lorraine, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 8:00

Friday, January 12
Voguing for Teens, NEXT! TEEN Workshop with Jason Anthony Rodriguez, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 3:00

Joey Kipp with Pioneers Go East Collective, Tracing Lorraine, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 8:00

Saturday, January 13
Films by Fana Fraser, Omega X & Danni, Matt Harvey, Laura Marie Marciano, and Tourmaline, LGBT Community Center, Gallery 101, 5:00

Ogemdi Ude, Hear, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 7:00

Sunday, January 14
NEXT! Workshop for older adults with Magda Kaczmarska, dance and storytelling, LGBT Community Center, 5:00

Ogemdi Ude, Hear, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 6:00

Christopher Unpezverde Núñez, YO OBSOLETE, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 7:00

Monday, January 15
Christopher Unpezverde Núñez, YO OBSOLETE, LGBT Community Center, Theatre 301, 8:00

Wednesday, January 17
Arthur Aviles and Collaborators, Naked Vanguard, Abrons Arts Center Playhouse, 8:00

Thursday, January 18
Annie MingHao Wang, had my mouth, Abrons Arts Center Playhouse, 8:00

Friday, January 19
Paz Tanjuaquio / TOPAZ ARTS Dance Productions, Silweta, Abrons Arts Center Playhouse, 7:00

Arthur Aviles and Collaborators, Naked Vanguard, Abrons Arts Center Playhouse, 8:00

Saturday, January 20
Annie MingHao Wang, had my mouth, Abrons Arts Center Playhouse, 5:00

Paz Tanjuaquio / TOPAZ ARTS Dance Productions, Silweta, Abrons Arts Center Playhouse, 6:00

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

LIVE ARTERY 2024: WEATHERING

Humanity gets caught up in the maelstrom in Faye Driscoll’s Weathering (photo by Maria Baranova / courtesy New York Live Arts)

WEATHERING
New York Live Arts
219 West Nineteenth St. between Seventh & Eighth Aves.
January 9-13, $10-$45
212-924-0077
newyorklivearts.org
www.fayedriscoll.com

As I noted in April 2023, Faye Driscoll’s latest work, Weathering, is, well, everything.

It is now back for an encore run January 9-13 as part of New York Live Arts’ Live Artery 2024 series. Below is my original review; do whatever you can to get a ticket to this extraordinary experience.

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The seventy-minute Weathering takes place on a squishy white movable platform raft designed by Jake Margolin and Nick Vaughan. The audience sits on all four sides of the object. One by one, ten performers — James Barrett, Kara Brody, Miguel Alejandro Castillo, Amy Gernux, Shayla-Vie Jenkins, Jennifer Nugent, Cory Seals, Eliza Tappan, Carlo Antonio Villanueva, and Jo Warren, in Karen Boyer’s costumes of everyday dress, some with backpacks, bags, and other accoutrements — step on and off the platform, eventually all standing in place and freezing, becoming what Driscoll calls a flesh sculpture.

Stage managers Emily Vizina and Ryan Gamblin, in all black, go to opposite corners and gently push the platform so it spins around, extremely slowly at first. The dancers barely move a muscle, but as the platform rotates, you can start to tell that the performers have shifted ever so slightly, lowering a knee, reaching out a hand, turning a foot, almost imperceptibly; the effect is like you are watching a living, creeping flipbook. Soon they begin touching, the connections electrifying, as if the contact is life affirming, which is especially potent as we emerge from Covid restrictions that kept us physically apart from one another. As the bodies interweave, they close gaps, filling spaces of loss and absence.

Performers encounter all five senses while spinning around the New York Live Arts stage (photo by Maria Baranova / courtesy New York Live Arts)

Driscoll incorporates all five senses as she and the stage managers occasionally spray the performers (and the audience) with citrus-smelling water and some of the dancers let out small groans and grunts as they put their mouths on an arm, leg, or neck that approaches them, somewhere in between the hunger for sex and the hunger of zombies seeking sustenance.

As the score builds — the sound and music direction is by Sophia Brous, with live sound and sound design by Ryan Gamblin and composition, field recordings, and sound design by Guillaume Malaret — the raft is spun around faster and faster. Personal items fall haphazardly to the ground: keys, a wallet, cellphones. Clothes start coming off, revealing more of who these people are and challenging what we might have previously thought about them while harkening back to our primeval existence, equating the beginning and the end. Chaos ensues, as the audience tries to capture as much of the action as it possibly can, not wanting to miss a single thing, as if every little movement, every sound, every change could upset the balance of this mini-universe.

Driscoll is telling us to pay attention, letting us know that humanity is failing and we are destroying the planet. The raft, evoking Earth and its orbit, sometimes slides slightly out of control, nearly hitting the people in the first row.

Faye Driscoll’s Weathering continues at NYLA through April 15 (photo by Maria Baranova / courtesy New York Live Arts)

The faster the raft goes, the more the audience is overcome by an intoxicating joy mixed with impending doom; it is absolutely exhilarating to follow each of the performers’ journeys, ten individuals striving to survive on their own and as a group, just as we in the audience are.

The show is accompanied by the companion reader Durations of Short Detail, with short pieces by dramaturg Dages Juvelier Keates (“We Are So Close”), dancer and choreographer Jesse Zaritt (“To Hold and Be Held”), and Driscoll, whose poem “Chariots of Flesh” relates, “We’ve been trembling in the trench for / Days? / Weeks? / Years? / Lifetimes? / Despite thick fog / I am overcome / By the smell of your clean shaven skin / Face, eyes, gaze, nose, mouth, fear / I try to pound you out but you latch onto my arm, / wrap your leg around me and reverse position / You try to pound me out but I latch onto your arm, / wrap my leg around you and reverse position / We are desperate to know the outcome / Desperate to know the outcome / Desperate to know the outcome. . . .”

As she has in such previous pieces as the Thank You for Coming trilogy, You’re Me, and There is so much mad in me, Driscoll investigates the intrinsic relationship between performer and audience, the imperative bond, but there is a lot more at stake in Weathering, nothing less than the future of the human race.

I don’t know that we can save the world through art, but with creators such as Driscoll, we can have a hell of a lot of terrifying fun trying.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

BARKLEY L. HENDRICKS: PORTRAITS AT THE FRICK

Barkley L. Hendricks, Lagos Ladies (Gbemi, Bisi, Niki, Christy), oil, acrylic, and Magna on canvas, 1978 (private collection / © Barkley L. Hendricks. Courtesy of the Estate of Barkley L. Hendricks and Jack Shainman Gallery, New York)

BARKLEY L. HENDRICKS: PORTRAITS AT THE FRICK
Frick Madison
945 Madison Avenue at Seventy-Fifth St.
Thursday – Sunday through January 7, $12-$22, 10:00 am – 6:00 pm
www.frick.org

My favorite specific spot in New York City museums right now is near the center of the larger of the rooms at Frick Madison containing the stunning exhibition “Barkley L. Hendricks: Portraits at the Frick.” Facing south, about ten or twelve steps from an inner doorway, you can see a pair of James McNeill Whistler full-size portraits in the small space, Harmony in Pink and Grey: Portrait of Lady Meux, from 1881–82, and Symphony in Flesh Colour and Pink: Portrait of Mrs. Frances Leyland, from 1871–74.

But on either side of the entrance to the Whistler room are two works by Hendricks, who was born in 1945 in Philadelphia and died in Connecticut in 2017 at the age of seventy-two. (Whistler was born in 1834 in Massachusetts and died in London in 1903 at the age of sixty-nine.) To the right is Ma Petite Kumquat, a 1983 portrait of Hendricks’s wife, Susan, while on the left is Miss T, a 1969 portrait of Hendricks’s girlfriend at the time, Robin Taylor. (Lady Meux was a working-class woman who married a brewery fortune heir and was never accepted by his family; Mrs. Leyland was a close friend of Whistler’s who was married to a Liverpool shipping magnate.)

The differences among these four large-scale vertical portraits are striking; grouping them together this way at the prestigious Frick, home to myriad masterpieces from the Renaissance to the early twentieth century, is an ingenious decision by curator Aimee Ng and consulting curator Antwaun Sargent.

“The Frick Collection was one of [Hendricks’s] favorite museums, to which he returned again and again to visit paintings by Rembrandt, Van Dyck, Bronzino, and many others. All three floors of Frick Madison are the context for this special exhibition; though Hendricks’s paintings are installed only here, on the fourth floor,” Ng said in a statement.

Sargent added, “When Aimee and I first began speaking about the Frick and its place in today’s world, I suggested an exhibition on Barkley L. Hendricks — obviously because of his interest in historic art as he developed his own style of portraiture of Black subjects, but also because the quality, dignity, and visual impact of his paintings are what I would think Henry Clay Frick might be drawn to if he were collecting now, thinking of future visitors to the museum in another hundred years. . . . Presenting Hendricks’s art at a storied institution like the Frick pays due tribute to the historic significance of Barkley L. Hendricks, and it also honors the evolving role of the Frick in modern American culture.”

Mrs. Leyland and Lady Meux each wear long, light-colored elegant gowns that spread onto the floor: The former stands with her back to us, hands clasped, the flower designs on her dress matching the flowers in front of her as she looks wistfully off to the side; the latter, in a hat with a flower on it, is looking right at the viewer as her body faces away, one hand grasping her dress, making sure we understand her station.

About one hundred years later, Taylor, in all-black except for a metallic chain around her waist, is looking wistfully off to the side, her body facing us, hands behind her back, her afro a modern contrast to Mrs. Leyland’s up-do. Meanwhile, Susan is also facing us, but her eyes are closed; she is wearing a black outfit with a red flower on it, a bow tie, a green curtain pull across her shoulder (evoking the background of Hans Holbein’s Frick masterwork, his portrait of Sir Thomas More), woolly leg warmers, and red and green bows on her open-toed shoes, her nails painted, a leopard skin pillbox muff in her left hand.

The two pairs of paintings encapsulate hundreds of years of art history dominated by race, gender, and class, as Hendricks uses his early influences to capture a more honest present. “I wasn’t a part of any ‘school,’” he said in 2017. “The association I had with artists in Philadelphia didn’t inspire me in any direction other than my own. I spent my time looking to the Old Masters.” He also insisted, “It had to be done Barkley Hendricks style — no copies.”

Barkley L. Hendricks, Woody, oil and acrylic on canvas, 1973 (Baz Family Collection / © Barkley L. Hendricks. Courtesy of the Estate of Barkley L. Hendricks and Jack Shainman Gallery, New York)

The exhibition features five canvases in which the Black subjects — October’s Gone . . . Goodnight, Steve, Lagos Ladies (Gbemi, Bisi, Niki, Christy), Slick, Omarr — are wearing white against a white background so their skin and hair color seem to be floating in space; in Woody, Jamaican American dancer Woodruff (Woody) Wilson has his two arms and one leg stretched out, in yellow leotards against a yellow background. In Lawdy Mama, Hendricks sets his relative Kathy William against a gold-leaf background with a rounded top, echoing Italian Renaissance gold-leaf works, of which many are currently on view at the Frick.

In conjunction with the exhibit, Nasher Museum of Art director Trevor Schoonmaker has compiled a special 1960s/1970s playlist, with a specific song for each painting as well as intro and outro tunes; for example, Rotary Connection’s “I Am the Black Gold of the Sun” for Lawdy Mama, Don Cherry’s “Birdboy” for Woody, Gil Scott-Heron’s “I Think I’ll Call It Morning” for Miss T, Roy Ayers’s “Everybody Loves the Sunshine” for October’s Gone . . . Goodnight, and Bob Marley’s “Natural Mystic” for Omarr.

The Frick has been moving into the twenty-first century for several years now, beginning with “Elective Affinities: Edmund de Waal at the Frick Collection” in 2019, in which the author and ceramicist created site-specific vitrines of objects made of porcelain, steel, gold, alabaster, and aluminum and placed them throughout the museum, and continued during the pandemic at Frick Madison with “Olafur Eliasson and Claude Monet,” “Propagazioni: Giuseppe Penone at Sèvres,” “Living Histories: Queer Views and Old Masters,” and the current “Nicolas Party and Rosalba Carriera.” Here’s hoping the trend continues once the Frick moves back to its renovated home on Fifth Ave. later this year.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]