"The Testament of Mary" - Review

Because I am working far, far away from New York right now I am sadly unable to see Broadway shows on a regular basis. In the meanwhile, my goal is to post a review every week or so and share my thoughts on a Broadway show from the last six years. The plan is to publish these reviews every Thursday or Friday, playing on the whole “throwback”/”flashback” concept we Millennials cherish so much.

But given this play’s opening in London last week as well as the recent celebration of Mother’s Day, I felt compelled to jump the gun a few days early and share my thoughts on Colm Tóibín’s one woman show, “The Testament of Mary”, starring Fiona Shaw.

Seeing this show on Broadway last April was one of the most thrilling experiences I have ever had in the theatre. It was one of those remarkable events that stick with you for quite some time.

From the moment the house opened, Ms. Shaw was seated on stage, clad in a Renaissance tunic, encased within a plastic box. Beside her sat a live vulture atop a wooden perch, without a trainer of any kind. Visually, this was an incredible spectacle. But more than that, it was a fully immersive experience. Each member of the audience was able to walk on stage, take pictures and look at Christ’s mother in all her splendor. She remained stoic and removed. Eyes wide open, she began murmuring something to herself, casually at first, then at light speed. Then, as the clock struck eight, the proscenium curtain fell to the ground with what seemed like a crack of thunder. As the lights came down with it, her plastic box was flown out, her Renaissance garb came off and the vulture left the stage.

After two thousand years, Mary was ready to break her silence.

Needless to say, Ms. Shaw was a master class in acting; a literal force of nature. Her vigorous command of the stage as Mary, the mother of Christ, was utterly breathtaking. Given the production's nomination for "Best Play" at the 2013 Tony Awards, Ms. Shaw's lack of a nomination in the "Best Actress" category was baffling to me as well as the theatre community at large. She was robbed, to say the absolute least. But I digress.

Sitting front row center, I fell into a trance of sorts, not speaking...barely breathing. I listened and I watched with the utmost intent. But it wasn’t just me. The entire house at the Walter Kerr Theatre grew deafeningly silent as Ms. Shaw began to talk, thousands of us hanging on her every word, anxiously waiting for the other blasphemous shoe to drop.

“I cannot say the name,” she admitted, somewhere at the top of the show. “It will not come, something will break in me if I say the name. So we call him, ‘him,’ ‘my son,’ ‘our son,’ ‘the one who was here,' ‘your friend,’ ‘the one you are interested in.’”

This set the tone for an extraordinary look into history’s most famous mother, and the aftermath of her unimaginable loss.

The show was directed beautifully by Deborah Warner, a longtime friend and colleague of Shaw for over twenty-five years. Together they have mounted famous productions of “Medea”, “Richard II”, “Mother Courage and Her Children”, Samuel Beckett’s “Happy Days”, as well as countless others, mostly on the West End.

Her direction here on Broadway was masterful. Throughout the show, she successfully complimented Tóibín’s theme of playing on the familiar. With Shaw as her vessel, Warner struck many familiar images of the Madonna and completely reshaped them. Like the pre-show, for example. Instead of glorifying the idea of a Mary we all know and love, it did something else. It depicted her as history does: confined to a box, peered upon by a vulture-like society.

But one must wonder, isn’t Mr. Tóibín apart of that same society that has judged and restricted her? In my opinion, “No.” He has merely opened the box and asked “What if?” 

It is a question that all art must answer to on some level...the Bible included.

Shaw during the pre-show. LASH Photography.

But at its core, “The Testament of Mary” is not a theological piece. It is a feminist banner, giving a timeless voice to one of Western culture's most famous women.  It is a testament for all mothers. All women. All people. Whether you agree with its many themes or not, there is a pulsating humanity to its story of a mother grieving her child.

She is not at peace. She is not understanding. She is human. And more than anything else, she wants her truth to be told. She wants the world to know who she is and what she did. And most importantly, she wants to hold her son again.

Until next time,

Jordan.

"I Could Use a Drink" - Review

Despite having purchased "I Could Use a Drink: The Songs of Drew Gasparini" last April when it was first released, I neglected to listen to it in its entirety until just last month...a mistake I wholeheartedly regret.

The record is one of the most promising new musical theatre albums of the last six years. Unlike a great deal of his peers, Gasparini has seemed to hone his thumbprint as a composer. He has found a successful recipe for blending popular music with contemporary musical theatre. The songs are dynamic, well written and truly eclectic, encompassing everything from pop, rock-and-roll, even R&B. And I don't mean that nebulously. Each one of his songs possesses a clearly defined sound and celebrates that sound triumphantly. One or two in particular belong on the radio.

Take for example Track No. 4: "If I Had You". If the first ten seconds of utter funk don't grab you right away, the song's unique singer, Chloe Gasparini, will. To put it simply, her voice is nuts. Never mind that she's the composer's younger sister, she totally owns the material she's been given. Her light, raspy tone is like a cross between Janis Joplin and Ingrid Michaelson: a combination that will serve her exceedingly well should she record a record of her own. 

But Chloe isn't the only one of Drew's siblings featured on the album. Kasie Gasparini can be found on Track No. 6: "Two Little Lines". On the surface, the song may seem like a typical teeny-bopper "woe is me" anthem...but it's so much more than that. Perhaps it's the glorious chord progressions in the chorus? Or maybe the clever lyrics? Either way, it's no surprise the piece won the coveted NYMF Best of the Fest award in 2011. 

One of Gasparini's most provocative numbers is the haunting trio, "Valley High", (feat. Blake Daniel, Gabriel Violett & Tim Ehrlich). Given the number of school shootings in the past decade, this song will definitely touch a nerve with anyone who listens. I'm sure many conservative audience members would even champion its restriction. But for me, personally, the song is a stroke of profound artistry. It doesn't glorify violence or excuse the act of murder, but rather, gives those troubled boys a voice, a heart and a story. And beyond the gorgeous hook, there is an eery calmness and simplicity to the graphic content, a paradox that chilled my spine to its very core on a first listen. 

A shout-out must also be given to Track No. 10: "I Loved You Too Much" (feat. Mykal Kilgore). This song is the very heart and soul of the album. Beyond the smooth R&B tones, given exquisitely by Mr. Kilgore, the song possesses a painful humanity that is seldom seen in contemporary musical theatre. This is the "Still Hurting" of the 2010's.

Other gems include the songs "Michigan" (feat. Eric Michael Crop and Kacie Sheik), "A Little Bit" (feat. a hysterical Alex Brightman), "You Can't Bring Me Down" (feat. Nick Blaemire and Rachel Potter), "Dear Lucy" (feat. F. Michael Haynie) as well as "Good Stuff" (feat. Justin Guarini).

The only disappointment on "I Could Use a Drink" is actually track No. 15: "Circus" (feat. Lindsay Mendez), the song I was most anxious to hear recorded.

Structurally, the song is incredible. The story is there, the melody is consuming on all accounts and Lindsay Mendez performs the hell out of it live. But here, Mr. Gasparini's concept of having a full blown carnival in the background proved immensely tempestuous for my liking. While an interesting idea, it's almost more effective if we DON'T hear what's going on in her head; we watch the craziness unfold without explanation. Likewise, Miss Mendez sounds overly tinny and cartoon-like, neither of which compliment the drama of the text. What's more, some of her best vocal licks from the live performance are missing, a mishap that confuses me still. If you'd like to watch the genius of that original performance, recorded four months before the album, click below.

All the same, "I Could Use a Drink: The Songs of Drew Gasparini" is, in its entirety, fantastic. It is one of the first compilation albums that has me interested in knowing more about the shows and stories to which each song belongs. I wish Mr. Gasparini the best of luck with his work and anticipate his productions with the utmost excitement.

Until next time,

Jordan.

How Original.

As I sit at my desk, gingerly plotting each word I am about to type, I can't help but have several nervous breakdowns all at once:

Will anyone read this? Will they like it? Do I like the title? The layout's way too basic. The definition of "trite" MUST contain some mention of theatre blogs. Will this even BE a theatre blog?

Needless to say, my mind is a paranoid mess. A hot, probably drunk, paranoid mess.

Regardless, I am starting this blog with the highest of hopes and the biggest of dreams. I want my voice to be heard and my thoughts to matter. I want to change lives and inspire millions. I want this blog to become a forum for academic discussion and artistic debate. I want it to mean something.

In reality: one or two followers would be totally cool.

If you would like to know more about me, where I live, what I do, how UN-qualified I am to call myself Thespis, please visit the "About" section of my site. And of course, if you have any questions, feel free to message me.

Otherwise, keep a look out for the various posts that are in the works and on their way. This blog will contain everything from theatrical reviews, to article commentaries, to critiques of cast recordings, and even little word vomits like this. 

Until next time,

Jordan.