Interviews – Behind the Proscenium

April 6, 2011April 27, 2011

The Mahabharata – A Discussion With Gustaff Hinter and Jackson Nitrate

There are times when one is a witness to history.

This week was such a time for me. I sat in on an early rehearsal of what is bound to become the most talked about, most loved theater experience in the history of man. Hyperbole? I think not.

Mankind will see what I caught a mere glimpse of… and mankind will be IN AWE.

Yes, finally, a production of THE MAHABHARATA that will make Peter Brook cry like a little girl… again.

I sat down with the man who adapted this great piece of Vedic literature, GUSTAFF HINTER. As we talked the genius director JACKSON NITRATE joined us.

Kyrle Lendhoffer: Gustaff, how are you today?

Gustaff Hinter: A bit harried. I’m falling behind on my translations.

KL: Translations?

GH: Yes. We first took The Mahabharata and translated it from Sanskrit to German.

KL: Yes, it was shocking to see the great Indian gods talking in German. Why the change?

GH: Both Jackson and I though that the guttural sound of the German language gives anything more emotional weight. More weight than if you could actually understand the play.

Jackson Nitrate then entered the room, and the conversation.

Jackson Nitrate: But then the fucking producers demanded that the play be in English. I said “no”… that I would walk off of the production if it were in English. But then I had an epiphany. The theater would be filled with smoke. And then laser lights would shoot through the fog and the audience could read what each character is saying in English.

KL: You mean like Lazerium?

GH: No! That’s so 1979…

JN: LaserFloyd was cool. That was 1979.

GH: Well, of course, but this is 16th century India colliding with 2010. That is not LaserFloyd. Not even LaserZeppelin. Anyway, I’ve now got to try to take everything that was translated from Sanskrit to German and now take it from German to English but then have the English version still be consistent with the Sanskrit. It isn’t easy.

KL: Sounds like a labor of Hercules. But back to The Mahabharata. The epic poem itself is a collection of over 100,000 verses. How long do you think this particular production will last?

JN: According to the producers, they don’t want it to be any longer than my award-winning production of The Bhagavad Gita which last five hours. I then told the producers that that hack Peter Brook’s version lasted nine hours. If Peter Brook was allowed that much time, then I should have a play that would run over the course of three days… some 36 hours.

KL: But 36 hours of brilliance.

JN: That’s what I said. But you know the suits. All they care about is that the play and the theater make money. I say “fuck money!” Theater is about art. And if art has to be 36 hours long, then so be it!

KL: My sentiments exactly. Who is playing the lead?

JN: Emerson Lightlander.

KL: Does he speak German?

GH: Uh, no.

JN: No, he doesn’t speak German NOW, but he will. Right now he’s learning all of his lines phonetically.

GH: Our Germany technical advisor says that he sounds like a German retard. And right now he does.

JN: Gustaff, do you have to bring that up in front of Mr. Lendhoffer?

GH: Uh, Emerson Lightlander will not sound retarded for very much longer, I can assure you of that. Better, Jackson?

KL: No quarreling you two! I must ask this final question – how hard is it for the two of you to be in each other’s presence, to bathe in the light of each other’s greatness, to be making history with every breath that you take?

GH: Uh…

JN: I’m the great one, Gustaff is just a writer. Kidding, Gustaff, just kidding.

And with that gem of humor, Jackson Nitrate and Gustaff Hinter began to “bicker” comically for the next half hour or so. My skin is redder from basking in the light of their combined greatness.

I am convinced when the world sees The Mahabharata it could quite possibly change the course of human history. In a good way.

Make a date to be at The Manka Black Box Experience. You will want to say that you were there the day the world changed for the better.

As I said, no hyperbole. No hyperbole whatsoever!

Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium

March 4, 2011April 26, 2011

Chekhov’s Platonov

This week I had the pleasure to sit down with Heinrich Mantle, the director of the upcoming Manka Black Box theatrical treat Platonov by Anton Chekhov. Mantle has challenged audiences for three decades with his deconstruction and recomposition of many of our most beloved classics. He has repeatedly shown that he has no fear, artistically.

Kyrle Lendhoffer: Heinrich, welcome to Behind The Proscenium.

Heinrich Mantle: My pleasure.

KL: Let me cut to the chase. Why Platonov? Why now?

HM: As for Platonov, why not? It’s never performed. It had an original running time of six hours. Chekhov didn’t even like it compared to his other work. As for why now? Broadway needs Chekhov. But Broadway needs the Chekhov that Chekhov didn’t appreciate. Because even though Broadway needs Chekhov, it doesn’t need regurgitated Chekhov. And speaking of that, if I see Uncle Vanya or The Cherry Orchard one more time with period costumes in a pretty little country villa, I will be physically sick.

KL: But isn’t that what Chekhov intended?

HM: How do we know what Chekhov intended? He is dead! Maybe he would have preferred The Cherry Orchard on the moon. We’ll never know for sure – but we can try!

KL: Tell me about your ideas of conceptual theater.

HM: I believe in bringing fresh, new perspectives to shows that have been – shall we say – heavily produced in the past. And these concepts bring modern audiences directly into the viewing experience, where they’re forced to confront their previously conceived notions, prejudice and feelings of the piece and, most importantly, their own lives.

KL: Like your production of Strange Interlude. It caused quite a controversy.

HM: Strange Interlude was a strange duck indeed! I kept everything in line with Eugene O’Neill’s vision – with one very major change. Instead of the characters turning to the audience to say their internal monologues, another actor – representing a player from the Miami Dolphins 1972 NFL Championship team – would come out say the lines.

KL: Why the 1972 Miami Dolphins?

HM: Who wouldn’t want their deepest thoughts expressed by the only undefeated team in modern NFL history? And, yes, I am including last year’s Super Bowl choking New England Patriots.

KL: I would prefer the 1927 Yankees—

HM: Base-baller!

(Laughter)

KL: So, the character of Marsden was represented by Bob Griese…

HM: And Evans, Larry Csonka. Nina’s inner self was represented by Garo Yepremian.

KL: Nina… by Garo Yepremian?

HM: Who better to represent a woman than a place-kicker?

KL: Wicked!

HM: Indeed…

KL: And then you placed Shakespeare’s The Comedy Of Errors in a Gothic mausoleum. Very bold!

HM: I don’t think audiences were quite ready for that one.

KL: Why a mausoleum?

HM: Think of it like this… you have two sets of twins running around Ephesus, there is confusion, laughter. How do you remind the audience of their own mortality? You surround the play with death!

KL: Doesn’t that damage the comedy?

HM: Exactly! And in the confusion, the audience can then see nothing but the truth!

KL: Amazing.

HM: Thank you.

KL: Back to Platonov. How have you approached this one?

HM: It was difficult. I was tearing apart my brain. You see, normally I find a concept. I work on that concept until it is perfect. Then I find a play that I can force that concept on. In this case, I worked in reverse. I found Platonov, and then I worked on the concept.

KL: And that concept was…?

HM: Thinking about it. Platonov’s life is hanging by a thread. But aren’t all of our lives hanging by threads?!? Then it hit me. The actors would hang from the ceiling with wires – or by a thread! And then as the actor’s relationships changed, they would rise above or below each other as their class status increased or decreased.

KL: Amazing again.

HM: Yes. For example, in a key scene between Platonov and Anna Petrovna, each character moves past each other spatially, or up and down to the layman, seven times. You can actually see where they stand.

KL: Or hang…

HM: Or hang, yes.

KL: Wow. One question – you said the play originally ran six hours. How long are you running now?

HM: After fierce cuts, the show now runs three hours – without an intermission.

KL: And the actors are hanging from wires the entire time?

HM: Yes, they are very dedicated.

KL: How do they use the bathroom?

HM: We’re working on that.

As you can see, Heinrich Mantle isn’t afraid to attack our comfortable views of what theater is. And even more important, what theater SHOULD be. It was a pleasure to interview him (again) for Behind The Proscenium.

Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium

January 29, 2011April 26, 2011

Tennessee Williams’ Haunted Alligators – Zachary Tisdale Interview

This is not an easy time in my life. After spending three days in Bedlam (well, it’s really a Catholic hospital in Mid-Town and I prefer not to mention its name in print), I was finally cleared by the Medieval Inquisition doctors to return to my apartment and to my real home, the theater. I want to thank everyone who came by my room and offered their prayers and support.

And to dear Chet, who is putting together a benefit to pay my medical bills (Manka Bros. Publishing does not offer insurance to its ‘lowly bloggers’), I give a heartfelt “thank you… thank you, darling.”

Life, however, isn’t always bad. Sometimes it is magnificent.

Like earlier this evening. I went to see another preview of Haunted Alligators (I remember very little of the last preview that I saw, as my fainting was so traumatic). I must say that the world has been robbed until now. Robbed of the greatness that is Tennessee Williams’ most momentous work. [EDITOR’S NOTE: The classic film version of Haunted Alligators can be seen this month on Manka Classic Movies].

Some say that it is derivative of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof. Well, poo to that! I say that Cat On A Hot Tin Roof is derivative of Haunted Alligators! In the coming weeks the world will know exactly what I am talking about.

Next week, I will review the opening of this brilliant show. This week I will give you an interview with the amazing actor Zachary Tisdale. Zachary is not only a towering monument to his craft, he has sculpted his body into something that would make Michelangelo proud. He is the epitome of the concept that an actor’s body is his only tool. Oh, and what a tool does Tisdale yield. I spoke to him last night in his dressing room.

Kyrle Lendhoffer: Zachary, thanks for taking the time to talk to me.

Zachary Tisdale: No problem, Mr. Lendhoffer.

KL: Kyrle, please.

ZT: All right.

KL: And may I call you Zach?

ZT: Sure. Why not…

KL: How about Zachie?

ZT: I don’t think so.

KL: First, uh Zach, I must say you are amazing. Can you walk me through the process?

ZT: Sure. First we get the script.

KL: Amazing.

ZT: Uh huh. Then we have a read through on the first day of rehearsal.

KL: Fantastic.

ZT: And at the end of the read through, we get our schedule for the week from the stage manager.

KL: That is SO important.

ZT: And then I go home and start to memorize my lines for the scenes that we’ll be rehearsing the next day.

KL: Yes, remembering all those words must be a chore.

ZT: It gets easier as you go along. I remember–

KL: Oh yes! You make it look effortless on stage.

ZT: What?

KL: On stage. Your work is effortless. And that means that you’ve been putting in the ultimate effort off stage.

ZT: Well, we all work very hard. I’m sorry, where were we?

KL: You learn your lines…

ZT: Oh, yeah. And I think of the through line of the play, and start tracking my character’s arc–

KL: Oh! The arc! Tell me about that.

ZT: Uh, the character starts at a certain point – emotionally, mentally, whatever. And things happen that change the character and then you arrive at a new point. It’s important to keep that arc specific.

KL: And what about your immaculate pectoral muscles?

ZT: Excuse me?

KL: Your pecs. A woman next to me said they were lickable.

ZT: That’s flattering.

KL: I agreed.

ZT: Whoa… Awkward.

KL: You should be very proud of your pecs. I am.

ZT: I, uh, well, yes, I am. I work out a lot and eat right. It isn’t easy.

KL: May I see them?

ZT: Excuse me?

KL: Right now. Can I see your pecs?

ZT: Come on – really?

KL: I’ve been ill. They would certainly perk me up.

ZT: Huh. Oh, look. I’ve got to head backstage for notes. It was great talking to you. Maybe we can do it again. Maybe.

KL: It has been a pleasure, Zachary, I mean, Zach. You have no idea how much of a pleasure it has been.

With that, the exquisite Mr. Tisdale left to receive his notes – and I can already tell you what his notes will be:

“Your work is brilliant Zachary, keep it up.”

“Do more interviews to promote the show – you’re the reason that people are here to see it.”

“Find more moments to take off your shirt. Those pectorals need to be exposed to the widest audience possible.”

Next week, I will grace these pages with my review of the lost Tennessee Williams play Haunted Alligators. Will words fail me? Will I collapse from mental fatigue once again? Will they create a special Tony category for Pectoral Muscles?

We shall see, dear readers. We shall see.

Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium

January 18, 2011April 26, 2011

Simon Ambrose – Graveyards vs. Mars

This week I had the pleasure of talking to Simon Ambrose. Intense. Forceful. Unique. Not just words, but an apt description of someone who is bound to become a theatre great.

His most recent work, Monkey Spanking Time won several national awards. His newest work, Graveyards vs. Mars, opens in two weeks at the Manka Bros. Drama Garage.

Mr. Ambrose talked to me for over two hours, but was in such a state of creativity that only portions of the interview were intelligible. And here they are. Let’s go… BEHIND THE PROSCENIUM.

Kyrle Lendhoffer: Simon, it’s good to see you.

Simon Ambrose: (giggling) I see you, too!

KL: Yes, you do. Congratulations on Monkey Spanking Time. An amazing show, yet very controversial.

SA: Yeah…

KL: It must have taken a lot of courage to write an entire show about the pleasures and variations of masturbating. Why masturbating?

SA: (giggling) Whack!

KL: Whack? What do you mean by “whack”?

SA: Dude, I love it.

KL: What do you love?

SA: To whack.

KL: Oh, my. I see.

Simon giggled for a minute or so. When he calmed down, the interview proceeded.

KL: So tell me about Graveyards vs. Mars. What is it about?

SA: Dude, Earth is invaded by Mars. And the Martians enslave us Earthlings. And they’re tall and green!

KL: The Martians?

SA: Huh?

KL: The Martians. They’re tall and green?

SA: Oh, the Martians…

KL: Are tall and green…

SA: Totally!

KL: And?

SA: Huh?

KL: And then what?

SA: Oh yeah… Then the earth people wrack their brains for a way to get rid of the Martians. Dude, nothing works. Then this guy figures out that bringing back the dead in the form of brain eating zombies would be cool.

KL: Really?

SA: Huh?

KL: So that’s what the Graveyard part of the title refers to?

SA: Yeah. Graveyards vs. Mars. How cool is that?

KL: Cool, indeed.

SA: Yeah…

KL: The brain eating zombies… How do they know to only eat the brains of the Martians?

SA: Dude! They don’t! It gets totally intense!

KL: Well, we wouldn’t want to give away any more of the plot. Let’s talk about your process. How did you come up with such an original and fascinating idea?

SA: I worked on it a lot around 4:20 in the afternoon.

KL: Intriguing. So this time has some significance to you…

SA: Well, yeah. 4:20. Time to enter an altered state. You know?

KL: I love that movie.

SA: Huh?

KL: Altered States with William Hurt. Powerful actor. So, you mean you were getting in touch with your primal side?

SA: Sure, that’s it.

A giggling fit started here that lasted several minutes. I have been told that many theatrical genius’ get ideas while in a giggling fit. I cannot image what was going through Simon’s mind.

KL: Are you all right?

SA: Whoo! Yeah… What were we talking about?

KL: Altered States.

Simon had another giggling fit that lasted for approximately two minutes. I was overwhelmed to be in his presence.

KL: Tell me what you’re thinking about right now.

SA: Dude, I could go for a cheeseburger.

KL: A cheeseburger?

SA: Right on! Feed the head – feed the face!

Such gems would continue to drip from the mouth of Simon Ambrose. He was in such a creative frenzy that he laughed non-stop until we got him to White Castle where he ate several cheeseburgers. “Fuel for the muse” I like to call it. And what a muse does Ambrose have.

Graveyards vs. Mars opens very soon at the Manka Bros. Drama Garage. Be there and sense the greatness. I know I will.

Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium

January 12, 2011April 27, 2011

An Apology From Behind The Proscenium

This is an apology. An online mea culpa. I take the proverbial cat o’nine tails and self flagellate. This is an open apology to the great Zenobia Lassiter.

Last week, I posted an interview and diatribe against her brilliant new work, Pussy. Yes, I said brilliant. I’ve not had time to process what I saw on stage.

I saw her put a fish in her “V” word and felt its power.

I saw her put on a Hitler mustache and read excerpts from Mao’s Little Red Book and now understand what it is to be forced to work retail in a strip mall.

I now know that as I listened to her describe her last colonoscopy that she was in fact talking about our need to vote on a regular basis if we ever hope to sustain democracy.

I had to nerve to say that performance art is neither! I was a Philistine. An ignorant man, who although he lives in a metropolis, has the mind of a plastic suburbanite. If I could find a way to spit on myself, I would.

So, dear Zenobia, here is what I have to say: I couldn’t possibly be more sorry. You are a genius. You are a colossus, and we peep about your feet like insects (I paraphrase my Shakespeare, but you know what I mean).

Zenobia, can you ever forgive me? Will you ever allow me to speak to you again, to sit in your angelic presence and absorb your unabashed brilliance? To be a mortal in the aura of a goddess? Please? Pretty please?

Ha!

The day that I apologize to the likes of you is the day that I buy season tickets to the barbaric New Jersey Devils and their hyper-man-beast NHL. YOU MAKE ME SICK!

Faithful readers, I hope you had a little chortle at my innocent prank.

In a week or so, I will be interviewing some of the artistic minds involved with the Manka Center Stage World Premiere of Tennessee Williams’ lost classic Haunted Alligators. You can see the 1960 film version all this month on Manka Classic Movies.

Yours In Art,
Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium

January 5, 2011April 27, 2011

Performance Art

I remember living in the “80s”.

It was the time of Wham! and Careless Whisper.

It was the time of Broadway’s Les Miserables and Big River.

Sadly, it was also the time of Ronald Reagan and Jerry Fallwell and his “Moral Majority”. The reason I bring any of this up is the reminder of the ghastly “Moral Majority”. Why? Because in my circle of theater aficionados we had a saying – “The Moral Majority is neither”. Neither “moral” nor “majority.” What is the relevance? It is this; today I’m going to talk to a performance artist.

I must admit that I have no idea what performance art is supposed to be. But I do know this; performance art is neither. Neither “performance” nor “art.”

Earlier in the week I had the misfortune to be invited by a (no longer) friend to a “show” by noted “artist” Zenobia Lassiter. The “show” was called Pussy. I thought it might be about cats (I love my kitties, they are adorable), but I was horribly wrong. I talked to Lassiter after the “show.”

Kyrle Lendhoffer: I don’t know what to say…

Zenobia Lassiter: There is no correct response. When everything is deconstructed to its most base level, there is really nothing left to say.

KL: No, that’s not it. At times I thought I was going to be sick. You call that “theater”?

ZL: Of course I do. It’s the only kind of theater that matters. Think about what made you sick.

KL: All right, I’m thinking about it. Oh, god…

ZL: And it makes you sick again! My work has power! You will remember this forever! You can’t say the same about Rent.

KL: I thought Rent was very powerful. And I’ll remember it forever because it was INCREDIBLE. Because it had artistic integrity. Because it had a beginning, middle and end.

ZL: Those things are over rated. You long for the theater of your grandfather. I’m giving you the theater of your unborn great grandson.

We bickered for a moment about whether or not I’d have a great grandson and how that really mattered in the grand scheme of things.

KL: Zenobia, what the hell was your piece about?

ZL: You tell me, Mr. Lendhoffer. What did you think it was about?

KL: (thinking for a few moments) I think you were trying to explore your own sexuality and the tenuous relationship between man and woman. I think.

ZL: Wrong! Try again.

KL: Really? I mean, it must have had something to do with your sexuality in some way. There is no way that it wasn’t.

ZL: You’re not setting your mind free. Why would you say something like that?

KL: Well, that thing with the fish.

ZL: What about the fish?

KL: Madam, you put a fish into your vagina. How the hell does that not relate to your sexuality in some way?

ZL: Your mind is trapped. Ossified by the world. Let me help you out.

KL: Oh, please do.

ZL: My piece was a scathing indictment of our consumer culture. It’s about everything that is wrong with the media turning us into “sheeple”, making us follow every fad, making us buy every product, making us into automatons that will buy everything – from Coke Zero to the war in Iraq.

KL: Putting a fish in your vagina is an indictment of the war in Iraq? You have got to be kidding me!

ZL: Fool! The fish represented Big Media’s message! We were my vagina. You, me, everyone! The message was being crammed down our throat. Our collective throat was my vagina! It’s so obvious!

KL: Ms. Lassiter, I am NOT your vagina! I will never BE your vagina!

ZL: It’s too late, Mr. Lendhoffer. You are already my vagina.

KL: Can we stop using the “V” word? I’m getting sick again.

ZL: Your sickness is your subconscious mind actually getting my show. Deep down inside you know what I’m saying and you agree with it. Admit it.

KL: I will admit nothing of the sort. You have problems.

ZL: Oh, really…

KL: Yes! And I find it insulting that I had to watch you go through your own psychotherapy on stage. See a psychiatrist! Get some help! But in private! Theater goers do not want to see you solve your psychosis – especially when they have to pay for it!

ZL: Let’s hear you say that when I win another “Obie.”

KL: Good God…

With that I got up and ran from the room.

What is theater becoming? It’s bad enough when I have to sit through “monologists” like Spalding Gray (may he rest in peace) and Eric Bogosian. But now I have to watch a woman put a fish into her “V” and be impressed? It’s only impressive when it’s part of a show for sailors in Tijuana. Someday – someday in a more beautiful future I’ll be able to put this “show” out of my mind.

Performance art? Get real! Performance art is neither.

Kyrle Lendhoffer – Behind The Proscenium