live performance

LINCOLN CENTER SUMMER FOR THE CITY: THIRD ANNUAL BAAND TOGETHER DANCE FESTIVAL

Who: Ballet Hispánico (BH), Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater (AAADT), American Ballet Theatre (ABT), New York City Ballet (NYCB), Dance Theatre of Harlem (DTH)
What: Free dance festival
Where: Damrosch Park, Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts
When: July 25-29, free, workshops 5:00, performances 7:30 [ed note: The July 28 workshop and performance have been canceled due to extreme heat]
Why: The third annual BAAND Together Dance Festival once again brings together Ballet Hispánico, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, American Ballet Theatre, New York City Ballet, and Dance Theatre of Harlem for five nights of free contemporary dance performances on the Damrosch Park stage as part of Lincoln Center’s Summer for the City programming.

Dancers rehearse Pas de O’Farill for BAAND Festival at Lincoln Center this week (photo by Lawrence Sumulong)

From July 25 to 29 at 7:30, the troupes will present one work apiece: BH’s Línea Recta by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa (a unique take on flamenco, set to music by guitarist Eric Vaarzon Morel), ABT’s Other Dances by Jerome Robbins (choreographed for Natalia Makarova and Mikhail Baryshnikov, set to works by Frédéric Chopin), DTH’s Nyman String Quartet No. 2 by Robert Garland (a mix of styles and cultures), the world premiere of the BH/NYCB collaborative duet Pas de O’Farill by Pedro Ruiz (a tribute to Arturo O’Farill), an excerpt from AAADT’s Dancing Spirit by Ronald K. Brown (a tribute to Judith Jamison, with music by Duke Ellington, Wynton Marsalis, and War), and NYCB’s The Times Are Racing by Justin Peck (a sneaker ballet set to songs from Dan Deacon’s 2012 album, America). In addition, each show will be preceded by a workshop at 5:00 led by members of one of the five companies.

“The BAAND Together Dance Festival is a testament to the vibrancy and diversity of the New York City dance community,” the five artistic directors said in a group statement. “We are thrilled to be returning with a spectacular program that features the city’s most internationally revered repertory companies. This year’s program highlights the innovative visions that have made New York City our nation’s dance capital.”

ORPHEUS DESCENDING

Valentine Xavier (Pico Alexander) and Lady Torrance (Maggie Siff) are lost in the dark in Orpheus Descending (photo by Gerry Goodstein)

ORPHEUS DESCENDING
Theatre for a New Audience, Polonsky Shakespeare Center
262 Ashland Pl. between Lafayette Ave. & Fulton St.
Tuesday – Sunday through August 6, $97
866-811-4111
www.tfana.org

Imagine an entire season of a nighttime soap opera, set in the south in the 1950s, mercilessly squeezed into two and a half uncomfortable hours and you have Theatre for a New Audience’s adaptation of Tennessee Williams’s Orpheus Descending, which opened Tuesday night at the Polonsky Shakespeare Center.

A rewrite of 1940’s Battle of Angels and loosely based on the Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice, Orpheus Descending debuted on Broadway in 1957, arriving during Williams’s most fertile period, the seventeen years that brought the world The Glass Menagerie, A Streetcar Named Desire, The Rose Tattoo, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Suddenly Last Summer, Sweet Bird of Youth, and The Night of the Iguana. It ran for only sixty-eight performances and was revived on Broadway by Peter Hall in 1989; otherwise, it has been unseen onstage in New York City, with good reason: It’s a hot mess, particularly in a second act that deteriorates by the minute, and there’s nothing that talented director Erica Schmidt can do to save it.

The play takes place in the Torrance Mercantile Store in a small southern town in the 1950s. The dry goods shop is run by Lady Torrance (Maggie Siff), daughter of an Italian immigrant, a woman thoroughly disappointed with life, married to Jabe Torrance (Michael Cullen), an obstinate, much older racist who seems to be at death’s door. The show opens as Jake is returning from a Memphis hospital with his unpleasant caretaker, Nurse Porter (Fiana Tóibín). Lady’s tragic back story unspools immediately: Her Italian immigrant father died when his wine garden was burned to the ground by the Klan for serving Black customers. In his memory, Lady is building a confectionery adjoined to the store, trying to bring at least some sweetness into her sour existence.

The town is all abuzz when a handsome stranger, Valentine Xavier (Pico Alexander), mysteriously arrives, wearing a snakeskin jacket and carrying an acoustic guitar. The local gossips, Eva Temple (Kate Skinner), Sister Temple (Prudence Wright Holmes), Dolly Hamma (Molly Kate Babos), and Beulah Binnings (Laura Heisler), are all atwitter about Val, serving as a kind of judgmental Greek chorus. Carol Cutrere (Julia McDermott), a sad, oversexed twenty-seven-year-old hellraiser with too much mascara who walks around barefoot in a trench coat and has been banned from town, takes an immediate interest in Val, who asks Carol why she makes such a spectacle of herself. “I’m an exhibitionist!” she declares. “I want to be noticed, seen, heard, felt! I want them to know I’m alive! Don’t you want them to know you’re alive?” Her version of being alive mainly consists of driving up and down the local highway drinking and dancing in every juke joint along the way.

David Cutrere (James Waterston) and Lady Torrance (Maggie Siff) rehash the past in rare Tennessee Williams revival (photo by Gerry Goodstein)

Lady, who once upon a time was in love with Carol’s brother, David (James Waterston), is desperate to be free, in some ways jealous of Carol. When Val tells her about a type of bird that has no legs and so instead must remain perpetually in the air, never touching the ground, Lady is intrigued, as if there is a heaven out there where she can escape her hell on earth. “I don’t think nothing living has ever been that free, not even nearly,” she says.

Vee Talbott (Ana Reeder), the wife of the sheriff (Brian Keane), knows Val is alive, cuddling up to him and showing him her paintings, abstract religious works based on her visions. “I paint a thing how I feel it instead of always the way it actually is. Appearances are misleading, nothing is what it looks like to the eyes. You got to have — vision — to see!” she explains. But nobody in this community can see beyond what they already know.

The more Jabe abuses Lady — upstairs in his room, he often pounds the floor with his cane three times, the sound echoing like a missive from the devil — the more she falls for Val, setting up a space in the store where he can secretly sleep over. Meanwhile, Jabe’s henchmen, Dog Hamma (Matt DeAngelis) and Pee Wee Binnings (Gene Gillette), are ready to do his bidding, eagerly anticipating being able to use their fists and guns. They get their chance in a wildly uneven and incredulous finale that is reimagined by Schmidt, straying from the original with reckless abandon. Oh, and before I forget, and I wish I could forget, there is also a clown (DeAngelis), who is clearly the work of a demon, and a conjurer known as Uncle Pleasant (Dathan B. Williams), who appears from, well, I have no idea.

“Curiosity is a human instinct,” Beulah says at one point, and that’s essentially what this production of Orpheus Descending is, a curiosity. Schmidt has previously directed the unique and unforgettable Shakespeare adaptation Mac Beth for Red Bull, an uneven musical version of Cyrano and the powerful coming-of-age drama All the Fine Boys for the New Group, and the underappreciated and underseen Lucy for Audible. In each of those shows, she displayed a daring feel for narrative, willing to challenge herself and the audience, but her efforts go astray with Orpheus Descending, which is not among Williams’s finest.

Julia McDermott steals the show as Carol Cutrerein TFANA (photo by Gerry Goodstein)

As opposed to the legless bird flying free, the play never gets off the ground. Amy Rubin’s claustrophobic two-floor set features a ceiling and walls that can barely contain the cast; the large, empty spaces to the right and left apparently alternate between the confectionery and Val’s sleeping quarters and places for some actors to sit while waiting to reenter the scene. In addition, the entrances to these areas are inconsistent, with characters sometimes walking through a door and other times around it in what seems like an impossible geography.

The play might not have a great history, but it has attracted marvelous casts. Cliff Robertson was Val, Maureen Stapleton was Lady, and Lois Smith was Carol in its 1957 Broadway bow; Marlon Brando was Val, Anna Magnani Lady, and Joanne Woodward Carol in Sidney Lumet’s 1960 film version, The Fugitive Kind; and Kevin Anderson was Val, Vanessa Redgrave Lady, and Anne Twomey Carol in the 1989 Broadway revival.

At TFANA, only McDermott (Heroes of the Fourth Turning, Epiphany) and Reeder (In the Blood, Sight Unseen) distinguish themselves, the former portraying Carol with a dark sadness, the latter adding an innate, innocent charm to Vee. Alexander (The Portuguese Kid, Punk Rock) is too understated as Val, who barely plays his guitar, while Siff (Billions, Curse of the Starving Class) ably runs the gamut of emotions Lady goes through, but even as the text repeatedly makes her Italian heritage clear, the actress produces an Eastern European accent that befuddles the audience with its incongruity.

Throughout the play, Williams refers to one of his favorite topics, corruption. “I lived in corruption but I’m not corrupted,” Val says. Everyone in Orpheus Descending lives in corruption but most of them are not corrupted as they try to survive in a bardo between heaven and hell. Unfortunately, this version of the story is stuck in the bardo as well; for an irresistible show about Orpheus and Eurydice, you’re much better off heading over to Hadestown at the Walter Kerr on Broadway.

A CELEBRATION — THE ROOF GARDEN COMMISSION: LAUREN HALSEY

Lauren Halsey’s Met Roof Garden Commission will be activated by live performances and more this weekend (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

the eastside of south central los angeles hieroglyph prototype architecture (I)
Metropolitan Museum of Art, Met Fifth Avenue
The Iris and B. Gerald Cantor Roof Garden
1000 Fifth Ave. at 82nd St.
July 21-23, free with museum admission
Exhibit continues through October 22 (weather permitting)
Admission: $30 adults, children under twelve free (New York State residents pay-what-you-wish)
212-535-7710
www.metmuseum.org
the eastside of south central slideshow

“I get to build the worlds I wish I lived in,” artist Lauren Halsey says in a promotional video about her Met Roof Garden Commission, the eastside of south central los angeles hieroglyph prototype architecture (I). “I collapse all of these worlds: street, pyramid, gorgeous nature, domestic worlds, into one composition to create new opportunities that are about uplift, that are about togetherness.” Wanting to build an Egyptian-style modern-day temple, Halsey studied works at the Met, including the Temple of Dendur, listened to PFunk, and constructed the eastside, which will be part of her community center Summereverything in South Central after the roof show is over.

This weekend Metlivearts will activate the sculpture, which features likenesses of Halsey’s loved ones and influences and carvings of local images and text she’s collected over the last fifteen years, with a series of special events, all free with museum admission and first come, first served. On Friday at 6:30 and 7:30 on the roof, California-born disabled choreographer, dancer, and sound artist Jerron Herman will perform the solo piece LAX, with an ornate costume by unsighted textile artist Sugandha Gupta, as part of Disability Pride Month. On July 22 at 6:00 and 7:15 on the roof, Moten/López/Cleaver will present a new work inspired by the eastside, with Fred Moten on vocals, Brandon López on double bass, and Gerald Cleaver on drums. And on Sunday from 11:00 to 2:00, “A Celebration — The Roof Garden Commission: Lauren Halsey” consists of interactive drop-in stations, a creative writing workshop in the Charles Engelhard Court, a Scent Lab and Architectural Art Making at the Temple of Dendur, and gallery chats on the roof and at the famed temple.

Lauren Halsey Met roof installation features carved text and imagery (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

“This work is aspirational,” Halsey continues in the video. “They’re images around community, transcendence, self-determination, and autonomy. . . . I hope when folks come to the Met and experience my piece, they walk away with a more holistic view about South Central that aren’t about the violence, they aren’t about dread, they’re very much about survival, vibrancy, love. And they also are just into me reinvisioning the hieroglyph as a form to tell stories.”

ADAA CHELSEA GALLERY WALK: NXTHVN WALKTHROUGH AND LIVE PERFORMANCE

“NXTHVN: Reclamation” at Sean Kelly features curator tour, artist discussions, and live performance on July 19 (photo by Jason Wyche / courtesy Sean Kelly)

Who: Cornelia Stokes, Kiara Cristina Ventura, Athena Quispe, Ashanté Kindle, Donald Guevara, Edgar Serrano, Anindita Dutta
What: Curator-led walkthrough, artist discussions, live performance
Where: Sean Kelly Gallery, 475 Tenth Ave. at Thirty-Sixth St.
When: Wednesday, July 19, free, 6:00
Why: In 2016, arts incubator NXTHVN was founded by American artist Titus Kaphar, private equity entrepreneur Jason Price, and Canadian artist Jonathan Brand. Based in two former manufacturing plants in New Haven, Connecticut, the nonprofit’s mission is “to build an alternative model of art mentorship and career advising through a specially designed curriculum, and to simultaneously set into motion significant opportunities for emerging local entrepreneurs.” Sean Kelly Gallery is currently hosting the two-floor exhibition “NXTHVN: Reclamation,” continuing through August 11, featuring painting, drawing, collage, video, sculpture, installation, and performance by six artists from NXTHVN’s Cohort 04 Fellowship Program: Anindita Dutta, Donald Guevara, Ashanté Kindle, Athena Quispe, Edgar Serrano, and Capt. James Stovall V.

On July 19, as part of ADAA Chelsea Gallery Walk, the gallery will present a walkthrough of the show at 6:00, led by NXTHVN curatorial fellows Cornelia Stokes and Kiara Cristina Ventura, joined by Quispe, Kindle, Guevara, and Serrano, who will discuss their contributions. “It is in this dance that the display of contradictory bodies and settings superimposed and cut together become a new whole; the cyborg of cultural mixture in a new virtualized arena where the procession of time can be known but not yet felt,” Guevara says of his work.

At 6:30, there will a live performance by Dutta, who uses such found materials as clothing, shoes, fabric, rawhide, chairs, and horns to take on gender conflict, sexual violence, and impermanence. “When victims and perpetrators remain silent about heinous crimes, the truth remains obscured and inaccessible,” she notes in her artist statement. “I wonder who holds the truth? Who is the witness to the events that transpired? Who is the knower of all thoughts and feelings, pain and suffering, stigma, and depression?”

KOREAN ARTS WEEK AT LINCOLN CENTER: ONE DANCE BY SEOUL METROPOLITAN DANCE THEATRE

SUMMER FOR THE CITY AT LINCOLN CENTER: ONE DANCE
David H. Koch Theater at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts
20 Lincoln Center Plaza
July 20-22, $24-$190 (use code KCCNYOD for 20% discount)
Korean Arts Week runs July 19-22, free
www.davidhkochtheater.com
www.lincolncenter.org

“All on the same line, in the same shape, with the same heart, it’s a heartfelt piece that brings us together,” Seoul Metropolitan Dance Theatre artistic director and choreographer Hyejin Jung says in a promotional video for One Dance (Il-mu), making its North American premiere at the David H. Koch Theater during Korean Arts Week, part of Lincoln Center’s Summer for the City program. The four-act, seventy-minute work, which melds traditional and contemporary Korean dance in stunning re-creations, debuted in May 2022 at the Sejong Grand Theater in Seoul.

One Dance is choreographed by Jung, Sung Hoon Kim, and Jae Duk Kim, with music by Jae Duk Kim and mise-en-scène by Ku-ho Jung, incorporating dazzling costumes and such props as bamboo sticks, swords, poles, and ritual objects. “I don’t think the beauty of Korea is an intricate technique but rather a symbolism of emptiness and abundance,” Ku-ho Jung explains in the video. “It’s really important to show the symbolism of the nuances. In fact, the process of staging One Dance was to show the Korean nuances by emptying out a lot of the material and focusing on the moves.”

One Dance is divided into four sections — “Munmu”/“Mumu,” “Chunaengmu,” “Jungmu,” and “New Ilmu” — with fifty-four dancers paying homage to courtly processions, ancient martial arts traditions, and contemporary styles through movement, music, and song. Ticket prices begin at $24; you can use code KCCNYOD for a 20% discount.

Korean Arts Week runs July 19-22 and also includes a bevy of free events: the digital artwork WAVE by d’strict, a K-Lit symposium, a family-friendly showcase by KTMDC Dance Company, Musical Theatre Storytime with KPOP composer Helen Park, silent discos with BIAS NYC and DJ Peach, a guided meditation set to Korean traditional music, a screening of Bong Joon Ho’s horror favorite The Host, and concerts by Crying Nut, Say Sue Me, Yerin Baek, Dongyang Gozupa, and Gray by Silver.

BOB DYLAN’S PHILOSOPHY OF MODERN SONG

André De Shields, Odessa Young, and Meshell Ndegeocello will channel the thoughts of Bob Dylan at 92Y on July 17

Who: André De Shields, Odessa Young, Meshell Ndegeocello and Her Band
What: Dramatic reading and musical performance
Where: Kaufmann Concert Hall, 92nd St. Y, 1395 Lexington Ave. at Ninety-Second St.
When: Monday, July 17, $40, 7:30
Why: “The song of the lone wolf, the outsider, the alien, the foreigner, and night owl who’s wheeling and dealing, putting everything up for sale and surrendering his self-interest. On the move aimlessly through the dingy darkness — slicing up the pie of sentimental feelings, dividing it into pieces all the time, exchanging piercing penetrating looks with someone he hardly knows,” Bob Dylan writes about “Stranger in the Night” in his book The Philosophy of Modern Song (Simon & Schuster, $45, November 2022).

He continues, “Tramps and mavericks, the object of each other’s affection, enraptured with each other and creating an alliance — ignoring all the ages of man, the golden age, electronic age, age of anxiety, the jazz age. You’re here to tell a different story, a bird of another feather. You’ve got a tough persona, like a side of beef, and you’re aroused and stimulated, with an ear-to-ear grin, like a Cheshire cat, and you’re rethinking your entire formless life, your entire being is filled with a whiff of this heady ambrosia. Something in your vital spirit, your pulse, something that runs in the blood, tells you that you must have this tender feeling of love now and forever, this essence of devoted love held tightly in your grip — that it’s essential and necessary for staying alive and cheating death. Intruders, oddballs, kooks, and villains, in this gloomy lifeless dark, fight for space. Two rootless alienated people, withdrawn and isolated, opened the door to each other, said Aloha, Howdy, How you doing, and Good Evening. How could you have known that the smooching and petting, eros and adoration was just one break down mambo hustle away — one far sided google eyed look and a lusty leer — that ever since then, that moment of truth, you’ve been steamed up, head over heels, each other’s hearts’ desire. Sweethearts and honeys right from the beginning. Right from the inaugural sidelong sneak peek, the origin — the starting point. Now you’re yoked together, one flesh in perpetuity — into the vast eternity — immortalized.”

A living legend, Dylan himself has been immortalized as the ultimate iconoclastic, unpredictable singer-songwriter rock star over the course of his seven-decade career, during which there has also been an endless debate about the quality of his voice. Dylan himself reads the audiobook, joined by Jeff Bridges, Steve Buscemi, John Goodman, Oscar Isaac, Helen Mirren, Rita Moreno, Sissy Spacek, Alfre Woodard, Jeffrey Wright, and Renée Zellweger. Like him or hate him, Dylan is still a master of vocal phrasing, as a singer and a narrator, in this case delving into sixty-six wide-ranging tunes.

There’s no argument about the mellifluous tones of Emmy, Grammy, and Tony winner André De Shields (Hadestown, Ain’t Misbehavin’), who will be at the 92nd St. Y on July 17 to present dramatic readings from The Philosophy of Modern Song and live musical performances of some of the songs Dylan waxes poetic about in the book; the special Unterberg Poetry Center event, directed by Michael Almereyda (Another Girl Another Planet, Hamlet, Paradise), also features Australian actress Odessa Young (The Daughter, High Life) and German-born American artist Meshell Ndegeocello and Her Band (Plantation Lullabies, Cookie: The Anthropological Mixtape).

Writing about Tin Pan Alley themes, Dylan explains in the book, “It is important to remember that these words were written for the ear and not for the eye. And as in comedy, where a seemingly simple sentence can transform into a joke through the magic of performance, an inexplicable thing happens when words are set to music. The miracle is their union.” That union is what Almereyda, De Shields, Young, and Ndegeocello will be celebrating Monday night at the 92nd St. Y.

THE SAVIOUR

Máire Sullivan (Marie Mullen) glows in the bask of postcoital sex in The Saviour (photo by Carol Rosegg)

THE SAVIOUR
Irish Repertory Theatre, Francis J. Greenburger Mainstage
132 West 22nd St. between Sixth & Seventh Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through August 13, $50-$90
212-727-2737
irishrep.org

The first half of the world stage premiere of Deirdre Kinahan’s The Saviour at the Irish Rep is gorgeous. On the morning of her sixty-seventh birthday, Máire (Marie Mullen) is basking in the glow of having had sex with a much younger man the night before. Lying in bed with a cigarette, the widowed mother and grandmother, during a long monologue to Jesus, says, “Get a grip on yourself, Máire Sullivan! I can hear you say that, Jesus. And you’re right. Do you know you’re right . . . I’m acting ridiculous. At my age! I hope you’re not getting all jealous now or anything? Are you, Jesus?”

But when a man (Jamie O’Neill) arrives, the play takes a decidedly different tack, one that raises several important issues but also turns its back on what had come before.

A devout Irish Catholic, Máire is in her glory after “heaving and shunting” with Martin. She is explaining herself to Jesus, hoping her lord and savior understands her new feelings. “Sex has always been a means to an end. Foisted on me when I didn’t want it or offered for a bit of peace,” she says. Barefoot and in a long white nightgown (the costumes are by Joan O’Clery), Máire gets up and walks over to her night table, putting on makeup and fixing her hair; there is actually no glass in the mirrors she is using, so we can see her in a frame as she gussies herself up. “I mean, I didn’t even know that sex was possible at my age,” she tells Jesus.

Waiting for Martin to come upstairs with breakfast and coffee, she shares scenes from her hardscrabble life. Her mother died when she was young, so her father, who found work in England, sent her off to the Magdalene Laundries, Irish sweatshops operated by nuns that were primarily a place to hide and punish pregnant teenagers.

“In the convent in Stanhope Street you gave your name away at the door,” she sadly recalls. “And I don’t think Daddy knew that when he put me in there. . . . Stanhope Street wasn’t really a school. A reformatory for whores and hussies! But I wasn’t one of them. Was I? No. I was good,” she says unsurely, as if having to convince herself.

She is haunted by the experience, remembering, “You didn’t ask any questions of the silence. Because we worked in silence. Lived in silence. Silence was our penance . . . for being orphaned girls. Forgotten girls. Bad girls. Or just . . . girls.”

But mostly, she is anticipating Martin coming upstairs and showering her with yet more attention — and sex. But that’s not quite what she has in store for her birthday.

Máire (Marie Mullen) and an unexpected figure (Jamie O’Neill) face some hard truths in The Saviour (photo by Carol Rosegg)

Ciarán Bagnall’s set is a slightly elevated turntable that revolves between the creaky bedroom, highlighted by a cross high on one wall, and the kitchen, with an open space stage right. Bagnall’s lighting and Aoife Kavanagh’s sound turn eerie whenever Máire drifts back into her memories of Stanhope Street, when the show briefly becomes a ghost story.

I cannot begin to tell you how uplifting it was to watch an actress of a certain age portray a woman who is euphoric about having had sex. Tony winner Mullen (The Beauty Queen of Leenane, The Gifts You Gave to the Dark) radiates as Máire details some of the events of the previous night, and the audience celebrates along with her as she carefully brushes her hair and shuffles around the bedroom, animated by this new lease on life, suddenly filled with hope and promise.

But Kinahan (Embargo, Halcyon Days) and director Louise Lowe (The Book of Names, The Party to End All Parties) then pull the rug out from under everyone’s feet when the visitor, ably played by O’Neill (Staging the Treaty, Luck Just Kissed You Hello), starts sharing some difficult truths about Máire, going all the way back to when she was raising her children. The Saviour abruptly becomes an issue play bringing up controversial topics instead of being about an older woman experiencing a positive life change. In addition, it grows repetitive, covering the same angles multiple times.

I felt like it was a kind of theatrical bait-and-switch; it might be my own fault for wanting the play to go in another direction, but, a week later, I still feel let down and betrayed. Perhaps I was so invested in Máire’s exhilaration that I didn’t want anything to get in the way of my enjoyment of that reaction. I can’t help but wonder whether it would have been so bad to have an older, decidedly unglamorous character simply enjoy sex in a show for a full seventy minutes.

But if anything, The Saviour, originally produced online during the pandemic in June 2021, is a distinctly Irish tale, one that delves into family, religion, and societal ills in which happy endings are far from guaranteed.