live performance

ONCE UPON A (korean) TIME

Once Upon a (korean) Time offers a remarkable theatrical experience at La MaMa (photo by Richard Termine)

ONCE UPON A (korean) TIME
La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club
The Ellen Stewart Theatre
66 East Fourth St. between Second Ave. & Bowery
Tuesday – Sunday through September 18, $60-$80
212-475-7710
ma-yitheatre.org
www.lamama.org

“Fairy and folk tale tropes offer modern authors . . . ideal frameworks and well-known terms of reference through which to explore the meanings and mythologies of war, both real and imagined. They do so for children and adults alike,” editors Sara Buttsworth and Maartje Abbenhuis write in the introduction to their 2016 book, War, Myths, and Fairy Tales (Palgrave Macmillan). Playwright and actor Daniel K. Isaac and director Ralph B. Peña take that approach to the next level in Ma-Yi Theater Company’s explosive yet intimate Once Upon a (korean) Time, running at La MaMa through September 18.

The ninety-five-minute show was inspired by Isaac’s biological family as well as his chosen family — in a moving program note he explains, “I am an only child of a Korean immigrant single parent [who fled south during the Korean War]. I do not know my biological father or his side of the family or their history. My maternal grandparents passed before I was born. . . . I have been disowned multiple times for being gay. . . . So the notion of ‘family’ is complicated for me.”

The notion of family is central to the play, which unfurls across a series of interrelated vignettes in which different kinds of battles provide opportunities to tell Korean folk tales as both distraction and metaphor in the midst of heated conflict. The first chapter, “Earth,” takes place in a trench in the 1930s, where two soldiers are under brutal attack. “We gotta get outta here / How do we get outta here / Should we make a run for it / Let’s make a run for it / I don’t wanna die / I’m too young to die / I don’t wanna be here / Get me out of here get me out of here get me out,” one of the soldiers cries out. He demands that the other soldier retell him the legend of brothers Heung-bu and Nol-bu: After their parents die, one sibling inherits everything and banishes the other and his pregnant wife and child. But a single seed from a previously injured baby jeh-bee (swallow) results in magic calabashes that just might right the wrongs.

Two women (Sonnie Brown and Jillian Sun) meet during the 1992 LA riots in Once Upon a (korean) Time (photo by Richard Termine)

The scene is brilliantly directed by Peña on Se Hyun Oh’s bold set, which is highlighted by two massive vertical boulders that rotate throughout the play to form a variety of walls, blockades, caves, and other barriers. As the soldiers hide behind rocks, bullets fly past and bombs explode ever closer; the audience is seated on the same side of the trench as the soldiers, immersing everyone in the dire situation. Oliver Wason’s lighting and Fabian Obispo’s sound, along with projections by Yee Eun Nam and Phuong Nguyen’s costumes, make us feel like we are all in harm’s way. It’s about as powerful an opening scene as I’ve experienced in a long time.

The involving depiction of the horrors of war continues with “Water,” set in a WWII comfort station where three Korean women, one a virgin, are being sexually, physically, and psychologically abused by viciously hostile Japanese soldiers. To distract the virgin from what is soon to happen to her, the other two women share the story of Shim-Cheong, a woman who sacrifices herself in order to save the life of her blind father.

A through line begins to develop as the action moves to a cave during the Korean War (“Heaven”) where the story of the Tiger and the Bear is told, a convenience store (“Fire”) amid the 1992 LA riots supplemented with the tale of the Grandma and the Tiger, and a contemporary gathering where three couples meet at a Korean BBQ restaurant and put it all in context as they await the future.

The stories within the stories offer compelling Korean myths to accompany the central narrative, especially since the outstanding cast goes back and forth between portraying the mythological figures and the “real” characters, sometimes as plays within the play. In “Water,” for example, one of the comfort women tells the virgin that she will be Shim-Cheong, then lays out the plot, gives her her motivation, and even makes a key alteration to her costume.

A Korean BBQ restaurant is the setting for the poignant conclusion of Daniel K. Isaac play (photo by Richard Termine)

Obie-winning Ma-Yi founding member and producing artistic director Peña and Isaac, who previously worked together on Lloyd Suh’s The Chinese Lady — Isaac is best known as an actor, appearing in numerous plays as well as in Billions and other television shows and films and will next be seen in You Will Get Sick at Roundabout next month — also zeroes in on the ideas of legacy, tradition, and belonging, from defending one’s homeland to emigrating overseas. As soon as the young woman walks into the convenience store, the older woman says, “I telling you story.” The young woman asks, “Like once upon a time?” The older woman replies, “No / That American thing.”

At the BBQ restaurant, the six people discuss such fairy tales as Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast as well as their family histories. “Korean stories are so funny,” Jon says. “And usually way more gruesome,” Sasha adds.

Once Upon a (korean) Time is both funny and gruesome, an expertly told tale that excites the eyes and the ears and keeps the heart pumping. There are no lags; something is always happening onstage, and constant movement and projections keep the audience entranced. The seven actors are extraordinary, with Sonnie Brown, Sasha Diamond, David Lee Huynh, Teresa Avia Lim, Jon Norman Schneider, David Shih, and Jillian Sun playing multiple roles. A jubilant scene in which the Sea Dragon bursts into a musical number could have felt out of place but instead is a welcome break from all the solemnity, even as he eagerly declares, “I hear we have a virgin in the house!”

Once Upon a (korean) Time is a gripping, all-too-real story of intergenerational trauma. Peña has called it “insane,” and insane it is, in only the best way. Isaac has dedicated the play to his mother, who will not be able to see it because she refuses to get vaccinated. And that’s a genuine shame, because her son has given the rest of us a remarkable theatrical experience.

ON THAT DAY IN AMSTERDAM

A one-night stand turns into a treatise on love, art, and immigrations in On That Day in Amsterdam (photo by Carol Rosegg)

ON THAT DAY IN AMSTERDAM
Primary Stages at 59E59 Theaters
59 East 59th St. between Park & Madison Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through September 4, $60-$125
212-279-4200
www.59e59.org
primarystages.org

Immediately after graduating college, I backpacked across Europe with my best friend. We had planned to spend a day or two in Amsterdam, but we were having such a great time, sleeping on a botel and enjoying the vast culture, that we ended up staying a week. The protagonists of Clarence Coo’s poignant if overly earnest On That Day in Amsterdam have no such option.

The ninety-minute play is told in flashback through the somewhat unreliable memories of Kevin (Glenn Morizio), who spends years trying to write the story of what happened “on that day in Amsterdam,” a phrase that begins many of the scenes. Kevin and Sammy (Ahmad Maksoud) hook up at a club and spend the night together on a houseboat. The next morning, Kevin, who is American, claims he has to take off to catch a plane back home, while the smitten Sammy, whose ancestry is less clear, wants to hang out all day with him before he is supposed to secretly leave that evening for the Netherlands and meet up with his brother to find a better life in England.

Sammy wants to get food and visit all the museums they can and eventually loosens up Kevin enough that they begin to do just that, their tale enhanced by third-person narration spoken by Rembrandt (the Romantic One) van Rijn (Brandon Mendez Homer), Anne (the Empathetic One) Frank (Elizabeth Ramos), and Vincent (the Perfectionist One) van Gogh (Jonathan Raviv).

“On that day in Amsterdam, two young men were in a bed and looked at each other in the morning light,” Anne says. “One of them was thinking about the present moment,” Rembrandt adds. “And the other was not,” Vincent concludes.

As they continue on their sadly brief adventure, Sammy and Kevin try to break down each other’s walls as well as those inside themselves.

“Can you relax?” Sammy asks, attempting to take a photo of Kevin, who responds, “I’m trying.” “Smile? No. Don’t smile. Actually, don’t listen to me. Just be yourself,” Sammy advises. “What does that even mean? Be myself?” Kevin wonders.

After learning that they have far more in common than they originally thought, they both prepare to head off to their very different destinations.

“One year from now, one of these two young men will try to write a book,” Anne tells us. “— will begin to write a book,” Rembrandt corrects. “— will write a book,” Vincent says. “And the other will not,” Rembrandt affirms.

Most of On That Day in Amsterdam takes place behind a giant translucent scrim; Kevin occasionally exits through a door at the front and goes to a table with a computer monitor, where he attempts to write his book as the years go by, but he is haunted by what he fears might have happened to Sammy. Much of the action occurs on a platform in the middle of the stage, reminiscent of Martyna Majok’s 2017 NYTW production of Sanctuary City at the Lucille Lortel, which also dealt with family and immigration issues, and Nick Payne’s 2015 Constellations, in which a man and a woman keep replaying scenes from an intermingling past, present, and future. (The Amsterdam set is by Jason Sherwood, with lighting by Cha See, sound by Fan Zhang, and costumes by Lux Haac.)

Sammy (Ahmad Maksoud) and Kevin (Glenn Morizio) wonder what’s next for them in On That Day in Amsterdam (photo by Carol Rosegg)

Morizio and Maksoud form an endearingly tentative couple as Kevin and Sammy, dancing, kissing, shopping, and waiting on line at museums. Coo (Beautiful Province [Belle Province)], The Birds of Empathy) and director Zi Alikhan (The Great Leap, Lady Apsara) repeatedly reference the importance of art, as represented by Rembrandt, Vincent, and Frank, but the emphasis sometimes feels heavy-handed.

“Maybe everyone’s an artist at heart,” Kevin offers. “You think so? Not everyone can be Anne Frank,” Sammy says. “No,” Kevin agrees. Sammy: “She was a great writer. That’s why people remember her.” Kevin: “Sure.” Sammy: “Not everyone can be a great writer.” Kevin: “What I mean is — the instinct to be an artist. The potential? Maybe that’s in everyone. And if people don’t live up to that potential? That’s a waste.”

The show features projections by Nicholas Hussong on the scrim and in the back, from live shots of Sammy considering his fate to colorful images of paintings that resemble works by Rembrandt and Vincent but are clearly not, sticking out like sore thumbs; if the producers couldn’t get rights to the pieces, it might have been better to not include these abstractions at all.

Meanwhile, Kevin declares Sammy is an artist as well, based on one cellphone photo of a swan soaring in the air, later comparing it to Jan Asselijn’s The Threatened Swan, the first work to enter the collection of the Nationale Kunstgaleri, later to become the Rijksmuseum, a canvas that represents the protection of the country from its enemies. Such obvious metaphors fly throughout the play, which succeeds much better when it is goes for a more subtle approach.

It also brought back fond personal memories of that week in Amsterdam I spent once upon a time, where I was privileged to not be in the same situation as Kevin or Sammy.

LAVENDER MEN

Pete Ploszek, Alex Esola, and Roger Q. Mason star in Lavender Men (photo by Jenny Graham)

LAVENDER MEN
Streaming from Skylight Theatre in Los Angeles
August 27, 28, 29, September 3, 4, $25-$38
skylighttheatre.org

The Civil War might be known as the battle between the Blue and the Gray, but Black Filipinx playwright and actor Roger Q. Mason turns to a different color in the world premiere of Lavender Men, continuing at the Skylight Theatre in Los Angeles and streaming online through September 4, in conjunction with Playwrights’ Arena.

During the pandemic, I watched virtual presentations of Mason’s The Duat, about a Black man (Gregg Daniel) searching for his place in a world of racial injustice, and Age Sex Location, part of the omnibus Matriarch: She’s Wide Awake Shining Light . . . , in which Ramy El-Etreby dances onstage in glittery drag and proclaims, “Fat bitch / Black queen / Mixed breed mishap / Round nosed fag ho / That’s what you think of me / As I walk down the street / My wide hips waddling / My fleshy neck obscuring a too-soft jawline.”

In the prologue of Lavender Men, Taffeta (Mason) says those same words, adding, “No fats, no fems, no blacks. / Well, kiss my black, fat, fem ass to the red! / I am more than that.” Taffeta, identified in the script as a “biracial, male assigned gender nonconforming fabulous queer creation of color,” is both narrator and participant in a reimagining of the relationship between Abe Lincoln (Pete Ploszek), who has just lost his 1858 Senate campaign to unseat Stephen A. Douglas and has returned to his law practice, and Elmer E. Ellsworth (Alex Esola), a soldier who has left the army — after being deemed too short to gain the promotions he thought he deserved — to work as Lincoln’s clerk.

Lincoln’s friend John Hay, later secretary of state for both William McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt, wrote that Lincoln “loved [Ellsworth] like a younger brother,” but Mason reinterprets that intimacy as a magnetic sexual attraction. Lavender Men doesn’t merely hint at their homosexuality but digs into it full force. Taffeta speaks with Lincoln and Ellsworth as if she is a kind of spirit from the future, offering them a second chance, while they understand that they are in a play being performed in front of an audience. “This is a fantasia, honey!” she declares.

Taffeta (Roger Q. Mason) watches intently as Elmer E. Ellsworth (Alex Esola) and Abe Lincoln (Pete Ploszek) grow close in streaming play (photo by Jenny Graham)

As Lincoln considers running for office and Ellsworth wants to reenlist, they explore their feelings for each other. Taffeta also shows up as Lincoln’s wife, Mary Todd; his servant, Sadie; as well as a cadet, an officer, a lamppost, a chandelier, and a tree. Mason avoids putting Lincoln on a pedestal. At one point Abe asks Ellsworth, “What do you think of Negroes? . . . What should we do with them?” Ellsworth responds, “I haven’t really formulated an opinion, to be honest.” Lincoln says, “Well, they are the taste on everybody’s tongue — and it ain’t sweet. I’ll tell you that.” Ellsworth asks, “What about you, sir?” Lincoln answers, “We oughta send them back.”

Taffeta gives them multiple chances to change their fate, but they’re not sure if they want to. “It could be different this time. We can make it whatever we want,” Taffeta explains early on. “Can we change the ending?” Lincoln asks. “Sure, start wherever you like. We can even make it up — they’ll believe it,” Taffeta promises, speaking about the audience. But changing history doesn’t come easily.

Stephen Gifford’s set is filled with archival photographs and documents on the walls, along with an analog-pixelated image of Lincoln hovering over it all in the back. A wardrobe serves as an entrance and exit for Lincoln and Ellsworth, but it’s not quite Narnia awaiting them on the other side. The sharp lighting is by Dan Weingarten, with original music by David Gonzalez and sound by Erin Bednarz that includes whispered voices that occasionally taunt Taffeta. Wendell Carmichael’s costumes range from the men’s straightforward attire to Taffeta’s far more fabulous looks.

The show is smartly directed by Lovell Holder, who helmed Mason’s 2020 virtual performance piece The Pride of Lions for Dixon Place and cohosts the podcast Sister Roger’s Gayborhood with Mason; the stream is filmed with multiple cameras from different angles, but there are a few noticeably shaky moments.

Lavender Men is an intimate tale that touches on such issues as slavery, racism, trans hate, white saviors, and, primarily, being who one truly is inside. “We all have voices — goddamnit, let’s use them!” Taffeta proclaims, talking not only to Abe and Elmer but to Mason and everyone watching, in the theater and at home.

INTO THE WOODS

Into the Woods features a dazzling all-star cast with superstar understudies (photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman)

INTO THE WOODS
St. James Theatre
246 West Forty-Fourth St.
Tuesday – Sunday through January 8, $69-$159
intothewoodsbway.com

At intermission of the spectacular revival of Into the Woods, I was heading outside for a breath of fresh air when I saw a notice posted on the doors that the show was not yet over, that there was a second act. At first I wondered who would leave the theater at this point, but then I thought about how nearly perfect the first act was, how everything seemed to be wrapped up in a neat little package, with everybody onstage and in the audience elated and satisfied.

But in James Lapine and Stephen Sondheim’s devilishly clever show, “happily ever after” is a misnomer, more of a warning than a coda. As the Narrator (David Patrick Kelly) had ominously just informed us, “To. Be. Continued.” Everyone’s jubilation is about to come tumbling down, like a giant falling from the sky — although one can find plenty of exhilaration in the dark side as well.

Inspired by Bruno Bettelheim’s 1976 Freudian book The Uses of Enchantment: The Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales, Lapine and Sondheim’s musical debuted at San Diego’s Old Globe in 1986 and moved to Broadway the following year, earning ten Tony nominations and winning three, losing the Best Musical award to The Phantom of the Opera. This new version, which premiered at New York City Center’s “Encores!” series in May, has made a super-smooth transition to the St. James, maintaining its brilliant streamlined adaptation.

The nearly-three-hour show, which has been extended through October 16, is a mashup of fairytale favorites with some added central characters. The stage is dominated by a fifteen-piece orchestra conducted by Rob Berman, who leads the musicians through Sondheim’s complicated, unpredictable score. The actors spend most of the show on a narrow, horizontal section at the front of the stage, with minimal props, highlighted by miniature versions of their forest homes dangling from the ceiling, teasingly just out of reach. In addition, they occasionally wander through the orchestra, running around and hiding behind white birch trees that have come down from above.

The story is built around three wishes. Cinderella (Phillipa Soo) is suffering through a miserable existence, terrorized by her stepmother (Nancy Opel) and stepsisters, Florinda (Brooke Ishibashi) and Lucinda (Ta’Nika Gibson), while her father (Albert Guerzon) offers her no support. “I wish to go to the festival — and the ball . . . more than anything,” Cinderella sings, referring to a grand party being thrown by the handsome prince (Gavin Creel).

Jack (Cole Thompson, although I saw Alex Joseph Grayson) and his mother (Aymee Garcia) are worried that they might lose their farm, so the mother sends Jack off to sell his beloved old and ragged cow, Milky White (Kennedy Kanagawa). “I wish my cow would give us some milk, more than anything,” Jack croons.

And the Baker (Brian D’Arcy James; I saw Jason Forbach) and his wife (Sara Bareilles) are desperate to have a baby. “I wish . . . more than the moon . . . more than life . . . I wish we might have a child,” the couple, invented for the show, opine.

Milky White (Kennedy Kanagawa) sits in the back as the Baker (Brian D’Arcy James) and his wife (Sara Bareilles) come up with a plan (photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman)

Other familiar and new characters also show up in the threatening forest. Little Red Ridinghood (Julia Lester; I saw Delphi Borich) stops at the bakery to bring some treats to her granny (Annie Golden) but better be aware of the hungry Wolf (Creel). “Into the woods / to bring some bread / to Granny who / is sick in bed. / Never can tell / what lies ahead. / For all I know, she’s already dead,” Red declares. Rapunzel (Alysia Velez) has been locked up in a tower, where another handsome prince (Joshua Henry) seeks to rescue her. A Mysterious Man (Kelly) pops up from time to time, telling riddles and positing, “When first I appear, I seem delirious. But when explained, I am nothing serious.”

Everything is set in motion by the Witch (Patina Miller), who lives next door to the Baker and his wife. She had cursed the Baker’s family — which includes the sister he never knew he had, named Rapunzel — deeming it impossible for them to have children, but she now offers to reverse it in exchange for “the cow as white as milk,” “the cape as red as blood,” “the hair as yellow as corn,” and “the slipper as pure as gold.” She promises, “Bring me these / before the chime / of midnight / in three days’ time, / and you shall have, / I guarantee, / a child as perfect / as child can be. / Go to the wood!”

And off they go, into the woods, where they have to determine how far to compromise their morals in order to acquire the four elements that will allow them to finally have a baby. These decisions ring true with audience members, who, in our own lives, regularly face ethical decisions. “Into the woods / without regret, / the choice is made, / the task is set,” the Baker, his wife, Cinderella, Jack, and Jack’s mother sing in unison. “Into the woods / to get my (our) wish, / I don’t care how, / the time is now.”

But when a widowed Giant (voiced by Golden) comes down from her haven in the sky to avenge her husband’s death, everyone’s future is destined to not be so happy after all.

In the last ten years, I’ve seen two previous adaptations of Into the Woods, from the Public Theater at the Delacorte in 2012 and Fiasco Theater for Roundabout at the Laura Pels in 2015. Both were lovely, memorable productions that were very different from each other but thoroughly satisfying in their unique approaches to a beloved musical.

First-time Broadway director Lear deBessonet (Pump Boys and Dinettes, transFigures), the head of Encores! and the founder of Public Works, and choreographer Lorin Latarro (Fiasco’s Merrily We Roll Along, Assassins for Encores!), expertly guide the actors across the stage, up and down the handful of steps, and through the trees, making the most of the tight quarters; the charming scenic design is by David Rockwell, with lighting by Tyler Micoleau, sound by Scott Lehrer and Alex Neumann, and lovely music direction by Rob Berman. The tasty costumes are by Andrea Hood, with hair, wig, and makeup design by the extraordinary Cookie Jordan.

The Wolf (Gavin Creel) has an evil plan in store for Little Red Ridinghood (Julia Lester) (photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman)

The cast is a true ensemble; several friends and colleagues saw different actors in key roles than I did, and everyone raved about them all, whether the understudy or the award-winning star. But two performers do stand out.

Miller brings down the house when she belts out “Last Midnight,” driving the crowd into a frenzy as she cries out, “It’s the last midnight, / it’s the last verse. / Now, before it’s past midnight, / I’m leaving you my last curse: / I’m leaving you alone.” Miller won a Tony as Leading Player in Diane Paulus’s 2013 Broadway revival of Pippin, but I missed her when I went; I instead saw the wonderful Stephanie Pope, who has had quite a career of her own.

But Kanagawa nearly steals the show as Milky White. Puppet designer James Ortiz (2022 Drama Desk Award winner for Best Puppet Design for The Skin of Our Teeth) has created a tender and fragile cow out of cardboard — part Slinky, part accordion — operated by Kanagawa, who had never worked with puppets before. He masterfully moves Milky White as the cow’s destiny is threatened, making sure we feel every emotion in her static foam eyes, from joy to sadness, as if it were a living creature in front of us. It’s a bravura performance that is receiving Tony buzz.

“If we hope to live not just from moment to moment, but in true consciousness of our existence, then our greatest need and most difficult achievement is to find meaning in our lives,” Bettelheim writes in the introduction of The Uses of Enchantment. “Our positive feelings give us the strength to develop our rationality; only hope for the future can sustain us in the adversities we unavoidably encounter.”

This latest adaptation of Into the Woods zeroes in on how Lapine’s book and Sondheim’s music and lyrics form a fairy tale for both kids and adults, about human beings’ instinctual desires, alongside their darkest fears. And don’t worry about the second act; it turns out that happily ever after is always within reach.

TICKET ALERT: FALL FOR DANCE FESTIVAL 2022

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater will perform Aszure Barton’s BUSK at Fall for Dance (photo by Paul Kolnik)

FALL FOR DANCE FESTIVAL
New York City Center
131 West 55th St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
Tickets go on sale Sunday, August 28, 11:00 am
Festival runs September 21 – October 2, $20
212-581-1212
www.nycitycenter.org

And, they’re off! Sunday morning at 11:00, tickets go on sale for the always hotly anticipated Fall for Dance Festival at City Center. The nineteenth annual event consists of five programs performed twice each over the course of ten days, featuring an international collection of established and emerging companies and choreographers; among the highlights are several live premieres of digital commissions; the festival includes works choreographed by Marius Petipa, Pam Tanowitz, Aszure Barton, Jamar Roberts, Jerome Robbins, Christopher Wheeldon, and Hofesh Shechter, among others. With tickets a mere twenty bucks, the festival sells out extremely quickly, so don’t waste any time and set those alarm clocks. Good luck!

Wednesday, September 21, and Thursday, September 22, 8:00
Program 1
HERVE KOUBI, Boys Don’t Cry, New York premiere, choreography by Hervé Koubi
António Casalinho & Margarita Fernandes, Bavarian State Ballet, Pas de deux from Le Corsaire, choreography by Marius Petipa
Gibney Company, Bliss, North American premiere, choreography by Johan Inger

Friday, September 23, and Saturday, September 24, 8:00
Program 2
Music from the Sole, I Didn’t Come to Stay, choreography and music by Leonardo Sandoval and Gregory Richardson
Melissa Toogood & Herman Cornejo, No Nonsense, New York premiere, choreography by Pam Tanowitz
Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, BUSK, choreography by Aszure Barton

Tuesday, September 27, and Wednesday, September 28, 8:00
Program 3
James Gilmer, Morani/Mungu (Black Warrior/Black God), live premiere, choreography by Jamar Roberts
San Francisco Ballet, In the Night, choreography by Jerome Robbins
María Moreno, Tangos & Alegrías, with guest singer María Terremoto, choreography by María Moreno

Thursday, September 29 and Friday, September 30, 8:00
Program 4
Sara Mearns & Robbie Fairchild, The Two of Us, live New York premiere, choreography by Christopher Wheeldon
Dayton Contemporary Dance Company, Indestructible, choreography by Abby Zbikowski
Kyiv City Ballet, Thoughts and Men of Kyiv, New York premiere, choreography by Vladyslav Dobshynskyi, Ivan Kozlov

Saturday, October 1, 8:00, and Sunday, October 2, 3:00
Program 5
Nrityagram Dance Ensemble, in collaboration with Chitrasena Dance Company, Poornāratī, New York premiere, choreography by Surupa Sen
Dutch National Ballet, Variations for Two Couples, choreography by Hans van Manen
Martha Graham Dance Company, CAVE, choreography by Hofesh Shechter

LIVE AT THE ARCHWAY: “iyouuswe III”

White Wave Young Soon Kim Dance Company will present the denouement of its “iyouuswe” trilogy August 25 at the DUMBO archway (photo courtesy White Wave Dance)

Who: White Wave Young Soon Kim Dance Company
What: Live at the Archway
Where: DUMBO Archway, 155 Water St. between Anchorage Pl. & Adams St.
When: Thursday, August 25, free (advance RSVP recommended), 6:00
Why: White Wave Young Soon Kim Dance Company, founders/curators of the DUMBO Dance Festival, Wave Rising Series, CoolNY Dance Festival, and SoloDuo Dance Festival, will perform the latest iteration of their longtime work-in-progress “iyouuswe” on August 25 at 6:00 as part of the summer program “Live at the Archway.” The show takes place in the archway under the Manhattan Bridge on Water St.; admission is free but advance RSVP is recommended.

The first section of the work, which as a whole “explores the body’s three dimensions in space” and “the weight of human emotions . . . as chaos propels us to the inevitable collapse of society,” premiered at La MaMa in 2017. The Brooklyn-based troupe presented a virtual version of iyouuswe II in November 2020, filmed on Jones Beach as the tide approaches three dancers. (You can watch it at the sixty-minute mark of this video.) The next iteration occurred this past February at Dixon Place for SoloDuo. For “Live at the Archway,” the denouement of the trilogy will feature Lacey Baroch, Michael Bishop, Sumire Ishige, Casey LaVres, Tess McCharen, Derick McKoy Jr., Jake Nahor, Alexander Sargent, Ellie Swainhart, and John Trunfio, with an original score by Marco Cappelli, additional music by Jim Perkins, Stephan Bodzin, and Angus MacRae, lighting by Yuriy Nayer, dramaturgy by James Leverett, and videography by Sargent.

TURN IT UP TWO!! BUSH TETRAS, THE BONGOS, TAPE HISS

Who: Bush Tetras, the Bongos, Tape Hiss
What: Free concert
Where: David Rubenstein Atrium, 61 West Sixty-Second St.
When: Thursday, August 25, free, 7:30
Why: There will be quite a hum Thursday night at Lincoln Center’s David Rubenstein Atrium when two quintessential local ’80s bands and a groovy new retro group come together for “Turn It Up Two!!” On August 18, Ivan Julian & the Magnificent Six, Gary Lucas, and the Veldt took the stage for “Turn It Up!!,” part of Lincoln Center’s free summer season. This week it’s New York City’s own Bush Tetras, Hoboken legends the Bongos, and the all-star Tape Hiss. The shows are curated by Hoboken musician Jared Michael Nickerson, who will also join in onstage.

“Turn it Up! is a celebration of my too-lit-to-mention ’80s New York City club scene memories,” Nickerson, who played bass for Human Switchboard, said in a statement, adding that the shows are “an acknowledgment that in 2022 there are rockers from that scene, some forty, forty-five years later, still kicking out the jams and turning it up.”

Formed in 1979, Bush Tetras initially broke up in 1983, then reunited in 1995 and 2005; original members Pat Place and Cynthia Sley — cofounder and drummer Dee Pop passed away last October, while cofounder and guitarist Laura Kennedy died in 2011 — will be accompanied by former Sonic Youth drummer Shelley and multi-instrumentalist R. B. Korbet. The band’s video for “Too Many Creeps” helped define the 1908s underground music in NYC.

Over in Jersey, the Bongos burst through with the seminal album Drums Along the Hudson and such singles as “In the Congo,” “The Bulrushes,” and “Numbers with Wings.” Cofounders Richard Barone on guitar and vocals, Frank Giannini on drums, and Rob Norris on bass, with master guitarist James Mastro, who signed on after the first record, will serenade the atrium with classic originals and some sweet covers. Tape Hiss consists of Shelley, Ernie Brooks from the Modern Lovers, and Peter Zummo from Arthur Russell and the Lounge Lizards, along with David Nagler and Pete Galub, performing songs from those bands and more.