Alonzo King LINES Ballet makes Lincoln Center debut with Deep River
Who:Alonzo King LINES Ballet What: Lincoln Center debut Where:Rose Theater, Broadway at West Sixtieth St., fifth floor When: February 22-24, choose-what-you-pay (suggested admission $35), 7:30 Why: San Francisco–based Alonzo King LINES Ballet makes its Lincoln Center debut this week with Deep River, an evening-length piece that kicked off its fortieth anniversary season last year. The title is taken from the popular spiritual performed by such singers as Marian Anderson, Paul Robeson, Odetta, Johnny Mathis, Mahalia Jackson, and Beverly Glenn-Copeland. The sixty-five-minute work features an original score, incorporating Jewish, Indian, and Black traditions, by multidisciplinary artist and longtime King collaborator Jason Moran and is sung live onstage by vocalist Lisa Fischer, alongside music by Pharoah Sanders, Maurice Ravel, and James Weldon Johnson, who wrote “Lift Every Voice and Sing.”
The company consists of dancers Babatunji, Adji Cissoko, Madeline DeVries, Theo Duff-Grant, Lorris Eichinger, Shuaib Elhassan, Joshua Francique, James Gowan, Ilaria Guerra, Maya Harr, Marusya Madubuko, Michael Montgomery, and Tatum Quiñónez, with lighting by Jim French, costumes and sets by Robert Rosenwasser, and sound by Philip Perkins. King, who was born in Georgia to parents who were staunch civil rights activists, notes in a statement about Deep River, “Love is the ocean that we rose from, swim in, and will one day return to.”
I first met James Mastro in the late 1980s, when he had a side gig as a freelance proofreader and I worked at a small publisher and used to assign him work. I already knew who he was from his time in the iconic Hoboken band the Bongos; he would go on to form Strange Cave and the Health & Happiness Show before joining Ian Hunter’s Rant Band in 2001.
Mastro started playing in New York City when he was teenager in the late 1970s, eventually performing with Patti Smith, John Cale, the Jayhawks, Alejandro Escovedo, Richard Lloyd, Garland Jeffreys, the Feelies, Jesse Malin, Amy Speace, Jill Sobule, and Robert Plant, among so many others throughout his career. He opened Guitar Bar in Hoboken in 1996 as a place where musicians could not only shop but play live and hang out. He has now followed that up with 503 Social Club, an art gallery that hosts live events, including recent concerts by Sobule, Freedy Johnston, and Bobby Bare Jr.; Jon Langford performed there with friends amid his paintings on the walls.
At long last Mastro has made his debut solo album, Dawn of a New Error, out from MPress Records on February 21. The title has multiple meanings, referring to the state of the world, Mastro’s shift to being the main man, and, at least to me, those old days when I was hiring him to find mistakes in kids books. Longtime Smith bassist and New Jersey native Tony Shanahan produced and plays bass and keyboards on the LP, which ranges from jangly pop, acoustic folk, and romantic ballads to gospel and country, celebrating such influences as the Beatles, the Ramones, T-Rex, Roxy Music, Bob Dylan, and David Bowie. Reilly and Hunter each appear on three tracks, with Hunter as “the voice of god” on “The Face of the Sun.” Mastro takes on faith and religion in “My God,” death and loss in “Never Die,” true love in “Gangster Baby” and “Three Words,” and fake news in “Right Words, Wrong Song.” “Trouble” was inspired by Dr. Seuss and Levon Helm.
Mastro will have album release parties on February 21 at Bowery Electric and February 24 at Transparent Clinch Gallery in Asbury Park. We recently spoke over Zoom, discussing music, art, family, hats, and stepping out into the spotlight.
James Mastro plays with Ian Hunter and R.E.M’s Peter Buck and Scott McCaughey of the Baseball Project at the 2011 Hoboken Music & Art Festival (photo by twi-ny/mdr)
twi-ny: We’ve known each other for thirty-five years. Back in the late 1980s and early ’90s, I would send you freelance work while you were out on the road. What was that like to be playing in bands and proofreading children’s nonfiction books?
james mastro: I had a family to feed, by any means necessary. And luckily, I was doing two things that I love to do: playing music and reading books. So it was a good marriage.
For us too; you did both exceptionally well. How has the road changed for you since then?
jm: With Ian Hunter, it definitely got a little bit more comfortable. The things I love about it I still love, always trying to take the dirt road as opposed to the highway. Touring can be a drag, but you can also make it incredibly great and fun. We would plan out an agenda every time. It’s worth it to get up an hour or two earlier to take a little trip and go see a museum or something crazy that a friend told you about.
twi-ny: Back in 2011, you very generously played at twi-ny’s tenth anniversary party with Megan Reilly at Fontana’s, which is gone. New York City has had such a turnover of music venues. Are there specific clubs that you miss from the old days? Obviously, I think we’re going to mention Maxwell’s.
jm: CBGBs especially will always hold a place in my heart, just playing there as a teenager and getting to see some of the bands that inspired me to play and getting to play with some of them. So CBs and Maxwell’s, yes; huge holes that were left. I miss Fez under Time Cafe a lot; it was just a really special place. Usually what makes a place special — I was thinking about Maxwell’s this morning and CBs — are the people that ran it. Maxwell’s, I remember, was one of the first clubs that would feed you, no matter who you were; if you were playing there, they would feed you, which for a musician is huge. You may not get paid, but at least you knew you were getting fed. [Maxwell’s owner] Steve Fallon always treated musicians well, Hilly Kristal at CBGB. It starts at the top if you have great people running a space.
twi-ny: Maxwell’s was such a fan-friendly venue. I saw your bands, Robyn Hitchcock, the Mekons, Bob Mould. So you played that tenth anniversary show with Megan, who sings backup on several songs on your new record. What is it about you and Megan that gels so well over the years?
jm: I think she’s one of the finest singers out there right now. I mean, her voice just kills me. It’s kinda like beauty and the beast. I’m not crazy about my voice, so anything that will complement it, like a voice like Megan’s, I love singing with. And just musically, she’ll show me a song of hers and right away I don’t even have to think about it; these parts come out because the way she writes is so dreamy and from a special place. I connect with that so well. The other day she and I just did a rehearsal together, the two of us playing and singing for my show coming up. And I was just thrilled. I’d be happy just doing that too. She’s a very special person musically, and as a person. Just very talented.
twi-ny: On “Three Words” she really just takes it and builds to that finale.
jm: It’s like from the purr of a lion . . . She starts off so subtle and by the end of that song, she takes it to a place I never would’ve thought of going. I don’t think that that song would’ve made it on the record if she didn’t sing on it. I really think she sells it.
twi-ny: You’re very self-deprecating about your voice. On the record you say a couple of things that really lends insight to you. I’ve been listening to you play for decades. I’ve seen you in bands that you lead and bands that you’re the guitarist, the backup vocalist. So to hear you front and center on an entire record and writing songs that sound very intimate and personal, I’m learning things about you that I never knew.
jm: Therapy begins. [laughs]
twi-ny: On “Right Words,” you sing, “The lead singer at the mic wants so badly to be liked.” And on “Three Words,” you claim, “I’m not a singer and I can’t write songs.”
jm: Mm-hmm.
twi-ny: But clearly you can sing and you can write songs.
jm: Mm-hmm.
twi-ny: Humble as ever. What’s it like to finally have a solo album under your own name? Songs you wrote, songs you’re singing lead on. Why now?
jm: Good question, Why now? Well, I’ve really enjoyed being a side guy all these years, and especially when you’re working with someone like Ian Hunter, or Patti or John, anyone I’ve worked with, Megan. So it’s been nice to go in and try to contribute and watch how other people work. It takes a lot of pressure off. Running a band is a pain in the ass; you gotta make sure the drummer doesn’t get arrested —
twi-ny: Is that a Steve Holley problem?
jm: No, no, not at all. [laughs] At that time in my life, it was very nice to just take some of the responsibility off. Even though I started recording these songs before Covid just kind of as fun, with no pressure or no idea of making a record, when Covid hit, that really made me realize, Well, I’ve got time on my hands. Everything is kind of slowed down. Let’s take a look at these songs and see if we have an album here.
twi-ny: So the songs were already written?
jm: Yes, they were. Most of them were either recorded or just about finished. Tony Shanahan had just opened a studio in Hoboken. He called me up and says, Hey, I wanna just check out the room and the gear and see how things go in here. Do you have any songs? We’ll record. I was like, great. So we went in and it was just me, him, and, for the first few, Louie Appel on drums. Three friends just playing some songs.
I’d show them the songs right then and there. There was a great spontaneity and contribution from them. And it was really fun, so we just did that over a course of a few years, on and off, whenever the studio was open.
twi-ny: No pressure.
jm: No pressure.
twi-ny: So now, not only are you front and center, on lead vocals, you’re turning to people like Ian Hunter to participate. Ian hasn’t been performing because he’s got tinnitus?
jm: Tinnitus, yeah.
twi-ny: What was his reaction when you asked him to be on the album?
jm: He did one track, “Right Words, Wrong Song,” and it was perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted. He sounded just like Ian Hunter, you know? And then he finished that and he’s like, What else you got? And so he sat and I locked the door right away.
twi-ny: Oh, so he was with you in Tony’s studio?
jm: Yeah. He came down to do that. So we played him songs. He is like, “Oh, I hear a part on this. Let me try this. This is great.” He’s a very musical guy, a very giving guy. And so for me, having the guy that inspired me to pick up a guitar sing on my record after I worshiped his, it was a nice little payback.
twi-ny: And then you get to direct him in a video. You directed it, you star in it, you’ve got Tammy Faye Starlite, you’ve got Ian, you put on these great wigs. To me it’s a throwback to the early days of MTV. Is that what you were going for?
jm: Definitely. I think it was a mix of early MTV and the Colbert show and The Daily Show. I guess you could say it could be a serious song, but I think sometimes you can get a point across better by being a little irreverent about it.
twi-ny: It looks like it was fun to shoot.
jm: It was a riot. I usually backpedal at things like this. I’ve been asked to be in other videos, and I’m just like, Oh, no, I can’t. So I went into this with a little trepidation, but we had a great time.
twi-ny: How often before have you gotten to act without a guitar in your hand? Has that happened a lot?
jm: You know, since high school.
twi-ny: So you have a little acting bug inside you?
jm: It’s a good career to have to fall back on if music doesn’t work out. It’s a good safety net. Do some acting.
twi-ny: It looks to me like you’re sitting right now in 503 Social.
jm: I am. Yeah.
twi-ny: In 1996, you started Guitar Bar, which revolutionized the music scene in Hoboken. And now you’ve expanded it with 503 Social Club. How did that get going?
jm: Well, all these projects are done for selfish reasons. Guitar Bar was because I just got tired of going into New York to buy strings, and Social Club, it just popped up. A friend of mine told me about this space that became available for rent, and he’s like, You gotta go see it. The last thing I need is something that takes more sleep away from me. But it was just crying to be something. There are so many talented people in this area and there’s a lack of venues, be it for artists or musicians. So I just felt, let’s give it a shot. It’s selfish because I get to see my friends’ artwork up close and see my friends play. So it’s a labor of love, but it’s been really fun, and the feedback’s been great.
twi-ny: You had a big night there with the great and mighty Jon Langford.
jm: He’s a dynamo in every way. I love his artwork, and so he had a great show. I thought he was just gonna come in solo, but he brought half the Mekons with them, Sally [Timms] and some of the others. And they just tore this place apart.
twi-ny: I’m mad that I missed that.
jm: I understand. Well, he’s coming back. So the fact that I can get people like that here . . . it’s very fun and special for me and inspiring.
twi-ny: Speaking of inspiring, you’ve been married for thirty-one years, you’ve got two daughters, and at least one of them is a musician.
jm: Yeah, Lily is in Long Neck, her professional name and band. [Daughter Ruby, a London-based sound designer and filmmaker, edited the “Right Words, Wrong Song” video.]
twi-ny: So is music just in the Mastrodimos blood?
jm: Neither of my parents were musical. Both my brother and I were, and, my kids by default. There were always guitars in the house, music playing.
twi-ny: Is your wife musical?
jm: She is; she doesn’t play, but she sings great. She has no desire to do that. I truly think the kids get their talent from her, not me.
twi-ny: On February 21, you’ll be at Bowery Electric for the album release party. You’ve told us that you’re gonna be playing with Megan; who else will be joining you?
jm: It’s a great band and people. I’m really happy to be playing with Tony, who produced the record and has been with Patti Smith for years.
twi-ny: He’s doing a special Lunar New Year show with Patti at Bowery Ballroom on February 10.
jm: Yes, I will be there.
twi-ny: Awesome. I will be there too. So you’ve got Tony.
jm: He and I have been playing together for thirty-something years. So that’s easy. Dennis Diken from the Smithereens will be on drums. Megan will be singing, playing some guitar, and I got her playing some keyboards. She’s excited about that. The other guitar player, Chris Robertson, he’s in a band now called Elk City; he was in the Psychedelic Furs side project Feed and played with Richard Butler, just great, another friend. If I’m gonna do this, I want it to be fun for me, and if it’s fun for me, hopefully it’ll be for everybody else. These are good mates to be in a room with.
twi-ny: Okay, so one last question, something I’ve always wanted to ask you. You have always worn hats onstage; how many do you have, and how did the hat thing get started?
jm: I always wore boleros or something. I just I love that era. My dad used to wear hats, and I love that era when you look at old photos of Yankee Stadium, and men are in suits and in hats, like the whole crowd is at a baseball game but they’re dressed to the nines. So I just always have loved hats. How many do I have? Not as many as you would think. Not as many as Alejandro Escovedo — talk about a snappy dresser. I aspire to be him when I grow up. He and I are always going out hat shopping when we’re on the road.
twi-ny: Oh, speaking of which, you’re about to go out on the road with him again.
jm: I am. Yeah.
twi-ny: He previously played with the Rant Band when Ian couldn’t tour.
jm: Right. Alejandro’s got a new album coming out too [Echo Dancing], and it’s really a great, interesting record. He’s kind of revisited some of his old songs but totally deconstructed them. I don’t want to say it’s techno, but it’s unique and great. So it’s gonna be a little different from what people might expect from him. It’s kind of what John — he’s worked with John Cale also — it’s what John would do. Nothing was sacred to Cale. We’d go onstage and he’d be like, You know what, let’s change this song (that we had done the night before). But he would just totally revamp it. And I love that. Nothing should be set in stone. So that’s kind of what Alejandro’s done. I’ll be playing with him in that, but I’m also opening the shows acoustically and, depending on what town we’re in, if I have some friends there, I’ll ask them to come up and join me.
So I’m looking forward to it. Traveling with good friends and playing music, what could be better, you know?
twi-ny: You’re just having a ball, right? Just loving life?
jm: It may sound like a cliché, but if I wake up in the morning, it’s a good day. Anything after that is icing on the cake.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
Christine Lyons, Bernard Holcomb, and Philip Cokorinos star in The Immersive Coffee Cantata (Dan Wright Photography)
THE IMMERSIVE COFFEE CANTATA EXPERIENCE
The Lost Draft
398 Broome St. between Lafayette & Mulberry Sts.
February 14-25, $40 osopera.org thelostdraft.com
I have never been a coffee drinker. In fact, I have not had a sip of any type of java in more than forty years. But On Site Opera’s (OSO) latest site-specific production, The Immersive Coffee Cantata, is my kind of cuppa.
Coffee first made its way into Germany around 1670. In 1735, composer Johann Sebastian Bach and poet and librettist Christian Friedrich Henrici, known as Picander, teamed up for Coffee Cantata (Schweigt stille, plaudert nicht, BWV 211), a tasty tale of a father who insists his daughter give up coffee if she ever wants to get married.
OSO, which has staged shows at Wave Hill, at a barbecue market, in a soup kitchen, and on board ships at the South Street Seaport, this time moves into the Lost Draft coffee shop in SoHo, which, in its mission statement, explains, “Art is an expression that can never be perfected. It is indefinite, ever-evolving. Artists reveal the highest versions of themselves when they are lost in their work. There is no final draft. There is only the draft that best represents you as an artist. And what artist doesn’t love coffee? That is the inspiration behind the Lost Draft. A creative space for creative people who love coffee.”
The Lost Draft is a long, narrow shop with the counter on the left and small tables on the right. On each table are several empty coffee cups, two boxes of popcorn, and freshly baked cookies that you can start on while the four-piece band warms up. (If you’re lucky, you’ll get the scrumptious passion fruit red velvet delights along with the chocolate espresso cookie.) You can also take a coffee quiz by scanning the QR code on the card on your table.
The Immersive Coffee Cantata takes place in the Lost Draft coffee shop in SoHo (Dan Wright Photography)
The show begins with Joe, the barista and narrator (tenor Bernard Holcomb), advising us, “If you’ll pipe down, and put your phones on mute, / You’ll overhear a family dispute: / Here comes Herr Schlendrian, / His daughter Lieschen close behind. / He’s about to lose his mind — / Or maybe it’s already gone.”
Schlendrian (bass-baritone Philip Cokorinos) enters, upset that his daughter, Lieschen (soprano Christine Lyons), is late and never listens to him. When she finally arrives, he yells at her, “You stubborn child, don’t drink that gritty mixture!,” but she declares, “My whole world floats in a cup or mug, / Revolving around Heaven’s true wonder drug / Thirsty for nectar from above. / Coffee, coffee: I’ve got to have it, / And it’s such a victimless habit. / Coffee is my liquid love!”
The sweet new libretto by Geoffrey McDonald, who also did the lovely orchestrations, quickly makes it clear that coffee is a stand-in for a man; fathers usually complain about a daughter’s choice in partners, but soon Schlendrian is checking the online matchmaking site Duetto to find Lieschen an acceptable future husband. Among the stickers on the back of Lieschen’s laptop is one of the iconic New York Greek coffee cup.
“Marital bliss: / Father, I want true love’s kiss! / Yes, a spouse! / Raise a family, buy a house!” she sings. “But I want a worthy suitor, / One who treats me like a queen. / I’ll agree to quit caffeine, / If you’ll serve as my recruiter!” And off they go, determined to make their dreams come true, demonstrated by a clever use of large and small paper coffee cups.
Schlendrian (Philip Cokorinos) is concerned for his daughter’s future in The Immersive Coffee Cantata (Dan Wright Photography)
During the forty-five-minute presentation, the actors and staff pour three tastings, Mama Mina, Kahawa Chungu, and the Queen’s Cup, the last also available in a go-cup. Meanwhile, the score is performed in a near corner by members of the American Modern Ensemble, featuring Valeriya Sholokova on cello, Nikita Yermack on violin, John Romeri on flute and recorder, and Dan Lippel on guitar, not all instruments Bach intended, but it works.
The Immersive Coffee Cantata is the first production under new OSO artistic director Sarah Meyers, who helms the show with an intimate, friendly touch. Cofounding general and artistic director Eric Einhorn, who stepped down at the end of last year, was chosen as one of Lieschen’s potential suitors in an earlier performance.
Met Opera veteran Cokorinos is terrific as the concerned father who wants only the best for his daughter, his face bold and expressive. Holcomb is welcoming as the amiable Joe, and Lyons is charming as Lieschen, who is forced into choosing between mocha and a man. Cokorinos’s diction is impeccable; you might have to refer to the online libretto for certain lines sung by Holcomb and Lyons, both of whom have exceptional voices.
My only quibble with the show is that it’s too short; I wanted to spend more time with the cast and crew, if not with the coffee itself.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
THE FEST FOR BEATLES FANS
TWA Hotel at JFK Airport
One Idlewild Dr., Queens
February 9-11, $49.50-$325 for various packages for children and adults, $24 virtual www.thefest.com www.twahotel.com
On February 7, 1964, a Pan Am plane carrying John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr landed at JFK Airport in Queens, and Beatlemania was unleashed on America. So it makes sense that the fiftieth anniversary edition of the Fest for Beatles Fans is taking place this weekend at the TWA Hotel at JFK. Even after all that time, the lads from Liverpool are as popular as ever, recently releasing the new song “Now and Then,” winning a Grammy for Best Music Video for the lushly animated “I’m Only Sleeping,” and being the subject of the eight-hour Peter Jackson documentary Get Back.
Running February 9-11, the fest features live performances by Liverpool, the Weeklings, Black Ties, Blac Rabbit, Cellophane Flowers, the Meetles, James Gray, Jeff Slate’s Weekend Wilburys, and others, signing sessions, panel discussions, and more, including the Giant Beatles Marketplace, the Annual Friday Night Dance Party (with ’60s Dress-Up Night and best outfits and lookalike contests), a You Sing the Beatles contest, the Beatles Museum (and art contest), the interactive FABoratory, an indoor pool, the Beatles Ashram, trivia games, participatory lobby jams, an auction, yoga, karaoke, and activities for kids.
Among the special guests are Micky Dolenz from the Monkees, Wings guitarist Laurence Juber, Wings drummer Steve Holley, Billy J. Kramer from the Dakotas, Chris O’Dell from Apple Records, original Beatles Fan Club president Freda Kelly, roadie Mal Evans’s son Gary Evans, former NEMS and Apple employee Tony Bramwell, Pattie Boyd’s sister Jenny Boyd, Paul’s stepmother and stepsister Angie and Ruth McCartney, and Gregg Bissonette and Mark Rivera from Ringo’s All-Starr Band. Deejay Ken Dashow serves as emcee, assisted by Tom Frangione.
Friday, February 9 Beatle World Biographies: Brian Epstein & Yoko Ono, with Vivek Tiwary and Madeline Bocaro, Paperback Writer Discussion Room, 7:15
Good Ol’ Freda, Q&A with Freda Kelly, Mop Top Room, 8:00
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds: A Dreamhouse Party for Brian Epstein, with DJ sets by Justin Cudmore and Danny Clobber, runway show by PVR x Tillium, drag show by Thee Suburbia with live music by Plastic Tizzy Band, and a ’60s salon by Sean Bennett, 1964 Room, 10:00 pm – 2:00 am
The First Origin Story, with Beatles Fest founder Mark Lapidos, Main Stage, 11:15
Saturday, February 10 The Beatles on Film, with Steve Matteo and Darren DeVivo, Paperback Writer Discussion Room, 12:15
Micky Dolenz: Special Guest Interview with Ken Dashow, Main Stage, 4:00
Historians Panel — Free as a Bird, Real Love, and Now and Then: The End of Beatles History?, with Susan Ryan, Jim Ryan, Janet Davis, Kit O’Toole, Andy Nicholes, and Caitlin Larkin, Paperback Writer Discussion Room, 4:30
Live Beatles Concert by Liverpool, featuring Micky Dolenz, Billy J. Kramer, Mark Rivera, Gregg Bissonette, Gary Burr, Laurence Juber, and Steve Holley, with a Wings tribute to Denny Laine, Main Stage, 9:00
Sunday, February 11 Live Broadcast: Breakfast with the Beatles, with Ken Dashow and guests, 8:00
The Beatles Are Coming! Beatles Parade, meet in the Twister Room, 2:00
Super Peace Bowl: Bed-In for Peace, 1964 Room, 5:00
Live Beatles Concert by Liverpool, featuring Micky Dolenz, Billy J. Kramer, Laurence Juber, and Steve Holley, plus grand jam finale, Main Stage, 9:00
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
Bruno Isaković and Nataša Rajković’s Yira, yira (Cruising, cruising) is part of QNYIAF (photo by Silvija Dogan)
QUEER NEW YORK INTERNATIONAL ARTS FESTIVAL
NYU Skirball Center for the Performing Arts
566 La Guardia Pl. between Third & Fourth Sts.
February 7 – 17, $25
212-945-2600 nyuskirball.org
After a six-year break, the Queer New York International Arts Festival returns to the city, taking place February 7-17 at NYU Skirball. Started by Queer Zagreb founder Zvonimir Dobrović in 2012 at Abrons Arts Center, the fest consists of works that address queerness in today’s society, this year with presentations from Argentina, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, and Germany, including live performances, installations, and public talks.
The 2024 QNYIAF kicks off February 7 with Croatian artist Arijana Lekić Fridrih’s From5to95, a hybrid video installation and online project in which Croatian women from the ages of five to ninety-five share their personal stories about gender inequality. On February 7 and 8, Croatian artists Bruno Isaković and Nataša Rajković’s Yira, yira (Cruising, cruising), which premiered in Argentina in 2019, is performed by sex workers Juan Ejemplo, Leandra Atenea Levine Hidalgo, Pichón Reyna, and Sofía Tramazaygues, exploring the relationship between client and sex worker.
Bruno Isaković and Mia Zalukar’s Kill B. reimagines the Bride from Quentin Tarantino films (photo by Hrvoje Zalukar)
Isaković collaborates with fellow choreographer and dancer Mia Zalukar on Kill B., inspired by Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill. Playing February 9 and 10, the piece focuses on the character of the Bride as well as artistic hierarchical structures and their own professional partnership. On February 13, Toronto-based performance artist Clayton Lee goes through his sexual history in The Goldberg Variations, which mashes up Johann Sebastian Bach with WCW and WWE wrestler and actor Bill Goldberg, host of the 2018-19 competition series Forged in Fire: Knife or Death and a contestant on The Celebrity Apprentice. Some iterations have included smells and live snakes, so be ready.
On February 15, Argentinian interdisciplinary artist Tiziano Cruz will deliver the autobiographical performance lecture Conference, followed by a discussion. His piece Soliloquy — I woke up and hit my head against the wall was about his mother; in Conference he turns his attention to his ancestors and his late sister. On February 16, Brazilian artist Wagner Schwartz’s performance lecture La Bête is an interactive solo in which he activates a plastic replica of one of Lygia Clark’s rearrangeable hinged metal sculptures known as bichos, or “beasts,” and then the audience does the same, except with Schwartz’s naked body.
QNYIAF concludes February 17 with Raimund Hoghe Company members Emmanuel Eggermont and Luca Giacomo Schulte’s An Evening with Raimund, a tribute to German choreographer, dancer, and journalist Raimund Hoghe, who died in 2021 at the age of seventy-two; excerpts from his works will be performed by seven dancers. “To see bodies on stage that do not comply with the norm is important — not only with regard to history but also with regard to present developments, which are leading humans to the status of design objects,” Hoghe said. “On the question of success: It is important to be able to work and to go your own way — with or without success. I simply do what I have to do.”
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
Terce: A Practical Breviary is another gem from Heather Christian (photo by Maria Baranova)
TERCE: A PRACTICAL BREVIARY
The Space at Irondale
85 S. Oxford St., Brooklyn
Wednesday – Sunday through February 4, $50-$150 prototypefestival.org here.org
Multidisciplinary artist Heather Christian doesn’t just make memorable shows; she creates unforgettable experiences.
Online and at the Bushwick Starr, Animal Wisdom was an intimate and rapturous confessional of music and storytelling, an ingenious journey into the personal and communal nature of ritual and superstition, of grief and loss, of ghosts and, most intently, the fear of death.
At Ars Nova at Greenwich House, Oratorio for Living Things was a gloriously exhilarating celebration of life, art, and nature, an immersive journey through the complex quantum, human, and cosmic time and space of our daily existence.
Christian is now back with the majestic Terce: A Practical Breviary, a reimagining of a monastic 9:00 morning mass as only she can present it, continuing at the Space at Irondale through February 4. “Terce” is the name of the third of the seven canonical hours of the divine office, while a breviary is an abridged liturgical tome of psalms, readings, and hymns.
Terce: A Practical Breviary takes place in a unique environment in the Space at Irondale (photo by Maria Baranova)
Part of the Prototype Festival and commissioned, developed, and produced by HERE, the show takes place in the former Sunday school home of the Lafayette Avenue Presbyterian Church on South Oxford St. in Brooklyn, which Nick Vaughan and Jake Margolin have remade into a welcoming area with two rows of chairs surrounding a central carpeted oval on which there are musical instruments, a mound of dirt, and a complex web of laundry lines emanating from a vertical loom, holding up fabric and household objects that will later be lowered down and used by the performers. Two tables contain tea and cookies that the audience can sample, along with the cast and crew.
As the crowd enters, the thirty members of the community chorus of mothers and/or caregivers are on the upper level, putting on robes that have been individually designed for them by Brenda Abbandondolo; some have embroidery or ruffles, while others are distressed or torn. The band soon saunters onto the stage: Mona Seyed-Boloforosh on grand piano, Viva DeConcini on electric guitar, Mel Hsu on bass and cello, Maya Sharpe on acoustic guitar and violin, Rima Fand on violin, Jessica Lurie on wind, Christian on keyboards, vocal soloists Divya Maus and Kait Warner, and Terry Dame on saxophone and a percussion kit made of pots and pans. All of the performers identify as female; nearly all the props are items associated with what some still consider “women’s work.”
What follows is an exhilarating and powerful sixty-minute service that Christian, in a program note, explains “addresses the Holy Spirit through the lens of the Divine Feminine.” The words to each of the fifteen songs are projected onto large screens on either side of the space, accompanied by drawings by Alice Leora Briggs, Koomah, and Lovie Olivia. While singing, the chorus occasionally marches around the oval and through the audience, at one point breaking out into smaller groups, joining together for communal rituals.
(The lovely choir, which interacts with the audience, consists of Raquel Cion, Marisa Clementi, Ciera Cope, Nadine Daniels, Sandra Gamer, Audrey Hayes, Mercedes Hesselroth, Frances Higgins, Davina Honeghan, Beau Kadir, Rachel Karp, Sarah Lefebvre, Aris Louis, Teri Madonna, Grenetta Mason, Mickaila Perry, Eleanor Philips, Avery Richards, Kayleigh Rozwat, Amy Santos, Kayla Sklar, Sharyn Thomas, Shelley Thomas, Vanessa Truell, Grace Tyson, Madrid Vinarski, Jessie Winograd, and Allison Zhao.)
In the opening “Oratorio,” a singer declares, “You and me and both our mothers / opened up the bottle, / when we opened up our stories / carrying blood to somewhere else.” In “Gardener,” we are told that “the Mother is the garden and the gardener.” In “O Shepherdess,” an adaptation of three prayers by St. Hildegard of Bingen, we hear about “a wound of contrition / a wound of compassion / a wound of the earnest longing for someone.”
The “Psaltery” section is prefaced by the quote “To be divinely feminine is a beatified exhibition of multitasking,” followed by references to Gucci and the DMV; songs include “Poppyseed” and “Mercy Is a Work,” a response to Julian of Norwich. The final part, “Reckoning,” explores gravity, panic, and hurt. Christian sings, “Until we die longing for love / we’re here sensing the chaos / and we don’t know what we are. / When this confused / I submit to my mother / In the door crease of the backseat of the car. / I grasp it only for a moment and in bliss / I understand how everything is all at once / in mercy and in love / and then I lose it.”
Terce: A Practical Breviary is fluidly directed by Keenan Tyler Oliphant (queen,Will You Come with Me?), who superbly manages the large cast and vast space, with lighting by Masha Tsimring (that battles with the sun pouring through the windows at certain times), enveloping sound by Nick Kourtides, and intricate movement by Heather Christian, Darlene Christian, and Oliphant. Heather Christian wrote the libretto, sings several songs, and composed the score, which ranges from pop and gospel to soul and medieval organum.
Christian, who keeps fascinating little trinkets on her piano, never loses anything in her work, pontificating on the fullness and mystery of human experience, from rolling pins and vacuums to lilting choral voices and the ineffable grace of the feminine divine. “I have no artistic restraint / every think I see, I paint / with the image of myself / I am the vine,” she proclaims late in the show, in a processional that is a response to John 15.5. I pray that nothing ever restrains her unforgettable art.
Mai Khôi returns February 1 to Joe’s Pub with the final iteration of Bad Activist (photo by Nate Guidry)
BAD ACTIVIST
Joe’s Pub
425 Lafayette St.
Thursday, February 1, $15-$25 (plus two-drink or one-food-item minimum), 7:00 publictheater.org mai-khoi.com
Back in September, I attended a friend’s wedding in rural Pennsylvania. Sitting at our table was a woman who was introduced to us as Mai Khôi, the Lady Gaga of Vietnam. We discovered later in the evening why, when, in full makeup and costume, she performed a song written especially for the occasion. The groom, Alex Lough, is an experimental musician and teacher, and the bride, Hanah Davenport, is a singer-songwriter and urban planner; at one point the party broke out into a Greenwich Village–style happening with a series of avant-garde presentations.
Born Đỗ Nguyễn Mai Khôi in 1983 in Cam Ranh, Vietnam, Mai Khôi was an award-winning pop star whose activism infuriated the government as she advocated for freedom of expression, LGBTQ and women’s rights, and the environment and against censorship, domestic violence, and Donald Trump. She also got into trouble by announcing that she did not want to have children.
She’s been playing music since she was six, in her father’s wedding band and later in clubs. She released her first album in 2004, and ten more solo records followed between 2008 and 2018; as her fame and fortune exploded, so did her concern for the welfare of the Vietnamese people. She challenged the police and the government, leading her to have to play secret shows for her fans. Shortly after the release of the 2019 documentary Mai Khôi and the Dissidents, which screened at the Human Rights Watch Film Festival, she fled to America; she currently lives in Pittsburgh with her personal and professional partner, Mark Micchelli.
“Even though Mai Khôi primarily sings in Vietnamese, you can always understand the intention she’s trying to convey,” Lough, who is producing her upcoming album, explained to me. “Her band has a refreshing approach to protest music, like we haven’t heard since Rage Against the Machine. She has an incredible emotional range, from delicate sadness and vulnerability to screaming and extended vocal techniques. She is also able to freely move between her role as the frontwoman to blending in with everyone; it’s rare to see that kind of versatility in a vocalist with such a commanding stage presence.” The record will feature such tracks as “We Never Know,” “Innocent Deer,” and “The Overwhelming Feeling that We’re Already Dead.”
On February 1, she will return to Joe’s Pub with the biographical multimedia Bad Activist, which details her life and career through music, photographs, video, archival footage, and more. Directed by Cynthia Croot, the seventy-five-minute show features such songs as “Reeducation Camp,” “Just Be Patient,” and “Bitches Get Things Done,” with Mai Khôi joined by Alec Zander Redd on saxophones, Eli Namay on bass, PJ Roduta on drums, and music director Micchelli on keyboards, playing a mix of experimental jazz rock, folk, and deliberately cheesy pop; Aaron Henderson is the projection designer. Although the work has been performed and workshopped over the last four years at small venues and universities, this iteration is the debut of the full, finished production.
I recently spoke with Mai Khôi and Micchelli over Zoom, discussing music, repressive governments, cooking, and why she considers herself a bad activist.
twi-ny: The three of us were at the same table at Alex and Hanah’s wedding. How did you first meet Alex?
Mark Micchelli: Alex and I met in September of 2016; we were in the same cohort at the University of California, Irvine, where Alex finished his PhD and where I did my master’s. I moved out east, if you can call Pittsburgh east, first in 2019, and then he moved to South Jersey in 2020. And so we’ve been musical collaborators since 2016 and been around the world. We’ve done gigs throughout California and in Pennsylvania, Florida, Ohio, New Hampshire, and South Korea.
Mai Khôi: In 2020, I got a fellowship at the University of Pittsburgh and I was invited to work with Mark. We began with my project Bad Activist.
mm: I had actually gotten an email from the University of Pittsburgh that said there’s this Vietnamese singer-songwriter who’s looking for a pianist who knows something about jazz and Southeast Asian traditional music. And I said, Well, no one’s qualified for that job, so I may as well try. When I was told that I’d have to learn the music in three weeks, I knew I didn’t have time to learn it in that amount of time. I drafted an email to basically politely decline and say, find another pianist. And then I thought I should actually look up what this person’s music actually sounds like. And now we own a house together.
twi-ny: When was the last time you were in Vietnam to either see family members or play a secret show?
mk: Oh, when I moved to the US at the end of 2019. I have not been able to come back to Vietnam since.
twi-ny: What will happen if you try to go back? Would they arrest you?
mk: Yes, they could arrest me. They could detain me. That’s what happened with an activist friend of mine. So, yeah, it’s still dangerous for me to go back, so I’ve chosen not to. My friend had the same situation, like me. She left Vietnam for two years, and then when her mother got sick, she wanted to come home, but the police arrested her, and she is now in jail. They sentenced her to three years.
twi-ny: What family do you have in Vietnam?
mk: My mother, my father. And I have one brother who lives with them.
twi-ny: If they left the country, say, to visit you here, would they be allowed back in?
mk: They don’t have any plans to leave Vietnam.
twi-ny: But if they did, would the government let them return?
mk: If the police want to arrest you, they can arrest you any time. But I think my family will be safe because they’re not involved in activism at all. They did try to convince me to not get involved. From the beginning, the police came and investigated them. After many visits to my parents’ house, they realized my parents have nothing to do with activism, so they leave them alone.
twi-ny: Are you in contact with them either over the phone or via social media? I know you’ve accused Facebook of being in bed with the Vietnam government.
mk: My parents still use Facebook; that is the main thing we use to see each other every day. Of course, I know the police always follow my Instagram and my Facebook and try to hack into them. But it’s okay. I still know how to use Facebook to spread my word and deal with the situation. Someone like my parents or other friends that are not activists, they will not comment on any sensitive things I post on Facebook. They don’t like some of the posts about politics anyway.
twi-ny: You’ve said, “No one can stop me.” Has the government come to you and said, If you take back some of the things you’ve said, we’ll leave you alone?
mk: They did try that in 2016 [when I was applying to run for the National Assembly]. They sent a person to talk to me to give me that deal. Like if you withdraw your nomination campaign, the system will make you even more famous. That was the deal, but I didn’t take it.
I refuse to talk with them about those kinds of things. When the government detained me a couple of years after, they asked me some questions and I just gave them information that’s already public.
twi-ny: What are some of the main issues you are rallying against, in Vietnam and America?
mk: You will see this when you come to see Bad Activist. I am focusing on freedom of expression. And recently, I’m doing some advocacy work for climate activists. Because I’m here, it’s easy to lobby Congress and the State Department, to work with the US government. [ed. note: Mai Khôi met with members of Congress last summer, before President Biden traveled to Vietnam.]
Also, I was surprised by the brutality of the police here, so I want to fight against that. It’s very similar with the police in Vietnam. In New York, when the Black Lives Matter movement happened, I went to the protest every week. I really feel the brutality of the police everywhere is just the same.
twi-ny: On February 1, you’ll be at Joe’s Pub, where you performed two earlier versions of Bad Activist in 2021–22. What do you think of the venue?
mm: They treat you super well. They know how to work with performers.
mk: In 2020, they started to work with the SHIM:NYC team for artists like me, to give us a chance to perform in an iconic venue in New York like that. [ed. note: SHIM:NYC is “a creative and professional residency and mentorship program for international musicians who are persecuted or censored for their work; are threatened on the basis of their political or religious affiliations, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or gender identity; have been forcibly displaced; need a respite from dangerous situations; or are from countries experiencing active, violent conflict.”]
mm: We do have City of Asylum in Pittsburgh, which does something similar.
twi-ny: What makes you a bad activist?
mk: There’s some moments that I realized maybe I’m a bad activist because I am first an artist, but because I was born in my country, a country that’s not safe for artists, I decided to become an activist to protect my right to be an artist. So that’s why I don’t have good training to become a good activist. Sometimes I upset people. And sometimes I organize some things that aren’t . . . I just think sometimes I feel I’m a bad activist.
mm: I’ve had a lot of conversations with Khôi about this, and I feel like everyone who sees the show has the opposite feeling of Khôi about her and her activism, but everything she says is genuine. And I think the broader point is that despite her activism and since she has fled to the States, the situation in Vietnam has only been getting worse. And so I think reflecting on that failure is something that the show tries to come to terms with and talk about and that’s why the name is framed that way.
mk: Yes. So the point is, whether you’re bad or you’re good, you at least try to be an activist, to contribute something.
Mai Khôi has been playing music since she was six years old (photo courtesy Mai Khôi)
twi-ny: Activism these days seems to be more dangerous than ever.
mk: I don’t know. I just do things that I feel are the right thing to do and I do them. I always believe that doing the right thing will lead you to something good, even when you have to pay a price for doing it.
twi-ny: What’s next after Bad Activist?
mk: We have some ideas for a new project. It will be based on the activism and culture that I carry from Vietnam to here.
twi-ny: What do you do when you’re not making music or fighting the power?
mk: I have a hobby: cooking.
mm: Khôi is as good a chef as she is a vocalist, which is really unfair.
twi-ny: What are your favorite dishes to make?
mk: Bún bò huế (spicy beef and pork noodle soup), cá kho (caramelized and braised fish), and mì quảng (Quảng noodles).
twi-ny: One final question: Will we ever hear the song you wrote for Alex and Hanah again? And does it have a name?
mk: “I Hear the River Calling.” I don’t perform that song. It was a gift to them. But it might go on an album in the future.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
