@ THE CONNELLY THEATRE
As part of the for the annual
Chekhov NOW Festival!
Presented by the Lite Company
220 East 4th Street-NYC
(Between Avenues A&B)
IN NOVEMBER ON THESE DATES:
Mon 4th @ 8pm, Tues 5th @ 8pm, Mon 11th @ 8pm, Tues 12th @ 8pm, Fri 15th @
8pm, Sat 16th @ 5pm, Mon 18th @ 8pm, and Fri 22nd @ 10 pm.
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Ticket Prices: $15.00 Regular, $12.00 Student/Senior
MOSCOW by Nick Salamone & Maury R. McIntyre was originally developed and produced at Playwrights' Arena,
Jon Rivera,
Artistic Director,
and directed by Jessica Kubzansky
MOSCOW
by Nick Salamone and Maury R. McIntyre
directed by Jessica Kubzansky
September 22-October 28, 2001
LA Theatre Centre
What Back Stage West said:
MOSCOW
Reviewed By Anne Kelly-Saxenmeyer
The creators of this absurdist
musical--Nick Salamone (book and
lyrics) and Maury R. McIntyre
(music)--couldn't have hoped that it
would become as topical as it has,
with cultural pundits daily discussing
art's role in the face of fundamental
crisis. For the play's three characters
the crisis is being indefinitely trapped
in an abandoned theatre. They don't
know how they got there, if they're
alive or dead, of if they're there for a
reason or by a cosmic mistake. For
diversion they have a makeshift game called "sockball" and a copy of
Chekhov's Three Sisters in Russian.
A failed playwright among them, Jon, decides to direct a translation of
the play. But as the men begin to mingle with the sisters, Chekhov's
play becomes integral to their lives. Through songs that are at once
lovely and densely character driven, deft staging by Jessica
Kubzansky that marries play space with real space, and intimate,
visceral, nuanced performances, this production manages to merge
theatre's most theatrical form--the musical--with plainest reality.
Jon (Clay Storseth) casts himself as "dried-up, fusty, disapproving old"
Olga, the eldest and most resigned; though Matt (Wilson Cruz), a virgin
coming of age in oblivion, sees in Jon the potential for a wistful
Vershinin. Matt takes on Masha, while Luke (Nic Arnzen), a young
hustler from Mobile and the most unwilling thespian, is the restless
Irina. None really assumes his role until a painful love triangle develops
and their several escape routes--control, sex, love--are annulled. The
actors share an emotional consistency that weaves song seamlessly
into dialogue, but there are star turns for each: Arnzen's rendition of
"Touch" in which Luke tries unsuccessfully to seduce Matt; Cruz's "So
Long, Matt" in remembrance of the character's mother, and Storseth's
"Behind Me" in which he recalls passionate memories of Fire Island.
Just as Salamone and McIntyre's songs ease us into the "musicalness"
of the show--with piano accompaniment that swells to include violin
and flute, and vocals that move from chant to aria--so Kubzansky
blends the play's prose with its poetry. The characters play sockball
onstage as the audience enters. Dramatic lighting effects (Robert
Fromer) are built up, then used sparingly. John H. Binkley's set, a
theatre in disuse, expands to include backstage, house, and implied
lobby. Kitty McNamee's choreography is pedestrian in the best sense,
and, in the few stylized bits, the trapped men peek through the sisters
with the implication that, unbeknownst to us, the real actors are
peeking out, too.
These explicit links between performance and reality testify to art's
enduring relevance. The sum recalled something I'd heard on the radio
hours earlier. "If you think that art is not worth doing at a time like this, it
probably isn't worth doing at any time," said poet Marie Ponsot. This
production certainly makes her point.
Nic Arnzen...Luke
Wilson Cruz...Matt
Clay Storseth...Jon
What the LA Times said:
MOSCOW
Curiouser and curiouser. It's not
often that one thinks of
existentialism and musicals in the
same context. Yet "Moscow," the
second offering in Playwrights'
Arena's inaugural season at the
company's Los Angeles Theatre
Center space, is exactly that—an
existential musical.
The brainchild of Nick Salamone
(book and lyrics) and Maury R.
McIntyre (music), "Moscow" was
first produced in Los Angeles in
1998 and went on to win the top
honor at that year's Edinburgh
Festival. Recently returned from yet
another stint at the Fringe, the play
is scheduled for several more
productions both here and abroad.
Pared down and reworked
since its debut, the plot remains an
exercise in pure eccentricity. Three
gay men, trapped in some indeterminate limbo, mount a
cross-dressing, musical production of Chekhov's "The Three
Sisters" in a desperate attempt to make sense of their existential
dilemma.
It plays a lot like "No Exit" with solos. But don't expect the sour
erudition of Sartre in this case. Existentialism with a heart, the show
melds typically antithetical extremes—such as intellectualism and
sweetness, for instance—into one richly diverting oddity.
The characters in the play represent a melding of extremes as
well. Jon (Clay Storseth), a scholarly playwright who has lost many
loved ones to AIDS, has retreated into cerebral celibacy. Luke
(forceful Nic Arnzen), a sexually needy male hustler, lives solely for
the next fleshly encounter. And Matt (Wilson Cruz), a shy virgin,
struggles to balance the conflicting urges of love and lust.
Trapped, uncertain if they are alive or dead, the men soon
become emotionally embroiled. Naturally, romance is rocky in this
limbo: Luke loves Matt, who is resolutely inaccessible to Luke's
advances; Matt loves Jon, who is resolutely inaccessible to Matt's
advances, and so on, circularly.
In fact, resolute inaccessibility is key to the plot, a lot of which
revolves around a strained "Chase me! Chase me!" dynamic. These
guys are past masters of the Doris Day demurral, and that proves
dramatically problematic at points. Problematic, also, is the fact that
the performers tend to be drowned out by the live music.
However, Jessica Kubzansky's streamlined staging, enhanced
by Robert "Bobby" Fromer's lighting, minimizes the flaws of this
imperfect but uplifting piece. Unlike the tormented trio in "No Exit,"
who spiral into despair, the characters in "Moscow" rally, recoup
and bond. It's a timely tribute to the redemptive powers of art, a
reminder that even the most apparently hopeless lives can be
transformed through the unifying fellowship of the theater.
--F. KATHLEEN FOLEY, Special to The Times
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