Theater Blog – Behind the Proscenium

October 15, 2011January 5, 2012

My God Is Better Than Your God

I normally attack theater from the review flank. I use my insight to take you, the possible audience member, into the “reality” of what a theatrical event may be like – without you having to actually be part of the reality. I try to express the theatricity of a theatrical event through the written word. It is my job – to bring the entire experience of sitting in a theater, marveling at what is taking place on stage, the smells of the greasepaint and the dinner that is stuck to the lapel of the patron next to you – without your ever having to enter a theater. Although entering a theater to see a play is always best!

And here is why… I’ve just returned from a performance of My God Is Better Than Your God by theater great Gina Grass. Once again, it is a one woman show.Normally, I would just review the show, but there was a moment when everything came together for me, as it will for you. As it will for anyone who ever lived to see theater. For anyone who has ever lived!

Here is a snippet from My God Is Better Than Your God, now playing at the Manka Open Mike in Tribeca.

Gina: You can’t possibly imagine my God. Your mind is too small. Imagine a goat trying to drive the Batmobile. Trying to drive the Batmobile with cooking mitts. That is you – stupidly in front of my God. Only more stupid. My God would laugh at you but h/she/it is above laughter. My God is always in a state of laughter because my God is always in a state of ALL. Eons ago, my God would have bathed in the lamentations of your women and children. That was before my God evolved to a point that evolution now means nothing to he/she/it. No, back then, my God would have taken a hoof (for my God only needed ONE HOOF!) and smashed that hoof on your pathetic being. And the bodies of the weak – like the previously mentioned women and children. And to make you feel even smaller than you already would be feeling – my God would rip the viscera from the chest cavities of those you loved in front of your pathetic face. And my God would use their intestines like a gore-drenched and dread sippy straw… and my God would suck and suck and suck the life out of everything you held dear. And then, for spite, my God would spit that life right back into your face. You turn pale. I haven’t really started. Then my God would smash YOU with the HOOF! And you would be dispersed into fragments no bigger than an atom. And even your smartest atom would kneel before my God in much the same way that a lichen kneels before you – if a lichen could kneel – BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I’M F-ING TALKING ABOUT! I see you. You are trying to comprehend my God. But you are like the contents of a Petrie dish trying to comprehend the scientist. The only difference is that the contents of the Petrie dish do not know to be afraid. And you should be SO afraid. Because my God no longer needs a hoof…

I have never heard the like on a stage before in my life. I could only imagine saying these beautiful words to someone who has cut me off in traffic, or to my landlord when he implies that my sub-lease may be invalid. In what situation would you use these words? And what would you do with your HOOF?!?

Kyrle Lendhoffer – 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 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