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(12/10/15 12:57am)
Clickshare, a new play by Lucas Kavner ’06.5, premiered this weekend at the Seeler Studio Theatre at the Mahaney Center for the Arts (MCA). Directed by Associate Professor of Theatre Alex Draper and featuring an original company composed entirely of current Middlebury students, Clickshare proved a deft satire painted pitch-black – a raucous send-up of new media, hero-worship and corporate culture.
Clickshare was developed this summer at MIDDSummer Play Lab before it was brought on as a faculty show this fall, undergoing additional tweaks at the beginning of this semester. Taking place almost entirely in the offices of Clickshare, a news-aggregate site in the style of The Huffington Post or Buzzfeed, Clickshare charts the experiences of new-hire Ashley as she adjusts to her new position and stumbles across a potentially paradigm-shifting news story.
While not the first to tackle the start-up culture of our times, Kavner readily digs to its roots, unearthing the lunacy of our new status quo. The office of Clickshare that Kavner creates is a world as rich as Alice’s Wonderland, possessing its own similarly irrational logic and populated by its own cast of colorful characters.
And yet, much of the setting’s strength stems from the blurring of what is real and what is imagined. Before developing Clickshare, Kavner spent some time working at The Huffington Post, an experience that undoubtedly influenced his realization of Clickshare. The high-pressure climate, the unhinged corporate culture and the ludicrous premise of Clickshare will all be eerily familiar to anyone who has spent some time working within the start-up set.
Satire comes almost too easily to such a world – Clickshare drips with caricature, willing to veer into territory that is shocking in its absurdity. Yet Kavner’s script is perfectly paced, each element carefully balanced. Larger-than-life characters are offset by the goofy earnestness of the play’s central band of heroes; wild conspiracy plots and apocalyptic undertones are rooted in a highly realistic recreation of start-up culture. Dialogue is sharp and unyielding, but makes room for painfully realistic asides and rewarding banter. Clickshare is filled with outrageousness, but is so lucidly paced that the audience is never left behind, able to enjoy the surface pleasures of its plot machinations while contending with the complex implications at the play’s core.
The cast makes remarkable work of Clickshare’s competing tones and influences. Eliza Renner ’18 is perfectly pitched as new girl Ashley, alternatively earnest and willing to succumb to the darker forces that govern Clickshare and the culture of new media. Caitlin Duffy ’15.5 brings out the subtleties of veteran Clickshare “logger” Ria, hard-edged and assertive but never cartoonish. Jackson Prince ’17 and Oliver Wijayapala ’17 round out the core players, respectively embodying charming slacker Colin and neurotic pragmatist Zak.
Of the eccentric members of Clickshare’s hierarchy with which our heroes contend, Baz Ramos, played by Miguel Castillo ’17.5, and Milano, played by Alexander Burnett ’16, are highlights. Castillo suffuses the suave Ramos with equal parts charm and empty-headedness, an apt symbol of the simultaneously attractive and idiotic Clickshare itself. Burnet’s Milano is revelatory, the force around which the production revolves. An image in blue slip and blonde wig, Milano is all sly smile, assertive gait and untraceable accent. Ethereal and impressive, Milano is the face of Clickshare, its grand ideals in near-human form. She is a TedTalk, a graduation speech, incarnate. The juxtaposition between such a high-minded figure and the pettiness that marks the experiences of the four loggers at the center of the play powerfully dismantles many of the notions of progress and humanism that Silicon Valley and its ilk often invoke.
And yet, Milano is resolutely attractive and admirable. As the play’s dark center is slowly teased out, perhaps the greatest mystery remaining by the end is that of Milano. Is she the icy, gleaming face of evil, impressive cheekbones and all, or is she merely the projection of our own aspirations and desires, a waking dream?
These and other contradictions make for an unclear takeaway. Far from finger-wagging, Kavner’s play is characterized by ambiguity. The audience is left wondering: are these companies suffused with poor intentions? Are we as consumers the drivers of their success or victims of their manipulations? While Clickshare undoubtedly prompts such questions, it thankfully avoids professing a political agenda. Questions raised are questions to be mulled over well into the future.
As director Alex Draper suggests, “I think that the crisis that it’s addressing, which is pretty substantial, is not immediately new, nor is it going to go away anytime soon.”
Yet perhaps by its very traditional theater format, Clickshare offers some optimism in our age of overwhelming digitalization.
“I find that fundamentally, we are going to recognize in ourselves the need to get out of our houses to be near live human beings and hear them tell a story,” says Draper. “My optimistic, aspirational view is that theater is not threatened at all, but that it’s deep need will be affirmed and reaffirmed over and over again.”
(11/13/15 3:54am)
Amid the faculty theatre productions, senior theses and assorted shows that are put on each semester, the Drama Labs continue to stand as a unique tradition here at Middlebury. A series of independent student-produced plays, the Drama Labs, have offered a venue for experimentation, variety and student-initiated creativity for years.
Friday’s production was no different. Produced by Daniel Buchman ’18.5 and Sisi Liu ’18 and featuring a wide array of student writers, actors, directors and others working at all levels of production, the evening’s hour-long show demonstrated a remarkable versatility and inventiveness.
Contrary to most other theatre productions, all scripts are student-written. In addition to offering a unique creative opportunity to aspiring student playwrights, this allows productions to tackle a number of issues that are contemporary and particularly relevant to the lives of young people. One such script this year explored the Black Lives Matter movement and issues of justice and race.
According to co-producer Sisi Liu,“[Drama labs] are a great way to bring in what is a hot topic in today’s society and what’s interesting to today’s students. That’s a pretty big difference between drama labs and other plays.”
Featured scripts ranged widely in tone, staging and scenarios. Among the highlights were an uneasy movie night born of blackmail, a droll conversation between Jesus and a Big Pharma executive and an act of vengeance spurred on by family drama and class warfare. Some productions made use of highly minimalist staging and a limited number of actors, choosing to focus in on a few core thematic conflicts. Others featured more complicated scenarios and sets, exploring a greater number of dramatic possibilities. Even within such a small subset of micro-productions, there was huge variety in terms of style, content and approach.
“I wouldn’t say this show has any theme whatsoever,” co-producer Buchman stated. “These scripts go all over the place. Some are amusing, while others are more serious.”
Drama labs are notable for featuring students who may otherwise be unable to participate in on-campus theatre. While faculty productions can be intimidating both in the time commitment and level of experience required, drama labs offer a relaxed atmosphere in which participants can develop a number of skills related to theatre production.
“I really think drama labs are an encouragement for people to try out theatre,” Liu said. “It’s really easy to just get in and experience a bit of what different roles are like.”
“[Drama labs] are a good way to get people involved that wouldn’t otherwise,” Buchman added. “So you’re going to see a lot more faces than you would normally in a theatre production ... I think we did a really good job of getting a diverse cast and crew, a big variety of people.”
While the fruits of such a singular and creative endeavor were surely on display Friday night, much of the value of drama labs is in the behind-the-scenes process. With each production acting as a small, independent group, each member is almost equally responsible for the success of their production. Such small groups also enable a greater level of collaboration and a less restricted creative process than perhaps a larger production would.
“If you’re trying out as an actor or stage manager or director, it’s very easy to form a tight-knit circle with the other people you’re working with,” Liu said. “Because it’s student-written, we can all sit down together to talk with the writer about what a line means or what the character is thinking at a certain time. The opinions of others can give added insight.”
Through this process, students are empowered with a greater understanding of theatre production at nearly all levels. Those once intimidated by the theater world may leave drama labs with a more robust skill set that can enable them to more comfortably approach future creative endeavors.
At the end of the day, the greatest benefit of the drama labs may be in simply harnessing the immense talent and energy that is present at Middlebury and in telling student-driven stories. In this way, drama labs can be a reflection of our community at large, in its myriad forms.
“[Drama labs] are open to everyone,” Buchman said. “I think we do a good job of getting a more representative ensemble in terms of who is a part of this community.”
(10/21/15 11:57pm)
Judah Friedlander’s “World Champion Tour” made a stop at Middlebury’s own Wilson Hall on Friday, Oct. 16 to a packed crowd eager for laughs. Friedlander, known principally for a supporting role on the Tina Fey-produced and Emmy-winning 30 Rock, has been performing stand-up since the age of 19, and he displayed his characteristic wit and slacker style in an assured and raucous performance.
Promoting his new book, If The Raindrops United, a collection of witty doodles and visual puns, Friedlander made the case for his singular brand of weirdo in his Friday night performance. Clad in his distinctive trucker hat, “World Champion” T-shirt and outlandish frames, he was unmistakable and idiosyncratic. The “enlightened slacker” type that has characterized his persona over the past two decades was in exceptional form, and undoubtedly resonated with Middlebury’s college-aged audience.
Friedlander’s set contained a few running themes: An endearing yet ironic brand of fervent American patriotism was on full display, as was mock-egotism and distinctive absurdist humor. However, the defining character of Friday’s show was freewheeling improvisation guided by audience participation.
Understandably, many unaccustomed to the world of stand-up comedy – this writer included – may approach a show heavily featuring audience interaction with some trepidation. Yet Friedlander built a playful and inclusive rapport with his audience. A welcoming and relaxed energy ensured that any joke made at the expense of an audience member was all in good fun. Glimpses of self-deprecation on the part of Friedlander helped maintain balance between performer and audience as the set progressed.
Friedlander played nicely off of Middlebury’s noted (and often exaggerated) cosmopolitanism in a bit that involved surveying the home countries of audience members and offering potentially misleading, often pointed and always humorous comparisons to the United States. In doing so, he brought to light our peculiar interactions with foreign countries as well as the absurdities of national attitudes at home.
One particularly fruitful improvisatory aside sprung from Friedlander’s declaration of his presidential candidacy for 2016. Opening to audience questions concerning his platform, Friedlander found himself facing the politically-minded and left-leaning college population, always armed with a keen awareness of hot-button issues and ready to pose difficult questions. Much in the vein of Stephen Colbert’s satirical The Colbert Report, Friedlander often diffused such questions in presenting a caricature of the gung-ho all-American, yielding responses that were absurd, quick-witted and utterly matter-of-fact.
As the evening unfolded, audience members found themselves led by little more than Friedlander’s quick-wit and imagination. Thankfully, the journey was colorful, appropriately weird and always hysterical.
(10/07/15 11:43pm)
On Friday, Oct. 2, the Paul W. Ward ’25 Memorial Prize was presented at Twilight Hall auditorium, honoring 74 members of the classes of 2018 and 2018.5. Led by Writing Center director, Mary Ellen Bertolini, Friday’s hour-long ceremony highlighted the many ways in which students are taught to communicate clearly and effectively through writing in all areas of academic life at the College.
The Paul W. Ward ’25 Memorial Prize was established 37 years ago by his widow, Dorothy Cate Ward ’28, to feature writing that employs, as she put it, “precise and exact usage of words, exact meanings, phrases expressed lucidly and gracefully.” All nominees of the prize are invited by the Writing Center to train as peer writing tutors. In addition, the two runners-up and the winner receive cash prizes of $250 and $500, respectively. In an impressive display of the diversity of academic pursuits on campus, this year’s ceremony featured papers on criminal justice, street art, philosophy, linguistics, the nature sciences and much more, ranging in format from scholarly research articles to personal narratives.
Despite these far-reaching fields of study, this year’s judges – Vicki Backus of the biology department, Ellery Foutch of the American Studies department and Director of Academic Technology Bill Koulopoulos – were tasked with selecting writing pieces that communicate with precision and grace. As such, the prize continues to champion the merits of good writing across all fields of academic study.
As Bertolini expressed in her opening speech at Friday’s ceremony, “when Middlebury College committed itself to requiring writing in courses throughout the curriculum, we committed ourselves to an idea about the place of writing in a liberal arts education.”
Following the opening remarks, the honorable mention awards were presented to Naomi Eisenburg ’18, Robert Erickson ’18 and Gabe Weisbuch ’18. As the three nominating faculty members handed over the certificates, each professor spoke of a moment in which they were struck by the quality of their candidate’s writing. Whatever differences existed amongst the papers, each student was able to captivate the reader’s attention and elevate the content of the work through clear, impactful and effective communication.
This point became especially clear to the audience during the presentation of the runner-up awards, as winners were called upon to read a condensed version of their works, following a brief introduction by their respective nominating professors. Sawyer Crosby ’18 shared “The Depletion of Groundwater Reserves in the Rio Laja Watershed,” incorporating social and political elements into an otherwise strictly environmental paper. In this way, what may have been inaccessible to audiences unfamiliar with this subject area became relevant and comprehensible. As an audience member with no prior understanding of this region or its environmental features, I found the piece to be fascinating, made engaging by Crosby’s style and dedication to the principles of effective writing.
The personal narrative “I Used to Play the Harp,” written by Morgan Grady-Benson ’18, was also the recipient of the runner-up prize. Culled from recent life experiences, Grady-Benson’s paper dealt primarily with hardship and loss, making sense of a series of diverse, complex life experiences through thoughtful reflection. Her story captivated the audience in a style that rang clear and powerful throughout the auditorium.
First-place winner, Nina Colombotos ’18, offered yet another illuminating piece of writing in a unique academic arena. Her paper, entitled “Stand Your Ground: A Southern History Meets Modern Law,” brought a broad historical-social context to modern-day criminal cases related to the “Stand Your Ground” law. In connecting these significant current events to a long and complex cultural history of the south, Colombotos succeeded in unpacking a realm of criminal justice in ways both insightful and relevant.
The three writers honored by the Paul W. Ward Prize, as well as the 69 nominees and two honorable mention recipients, represent only a fraction of all Middlebury students who continually hone their writing skills in a diverse array of academic settings. The works of these particular students demonstrate the qualities of effective writing, and highlight why such writing is important. As Mary Ellen Bertolini stated in her opening remarks, “Those colleagues who are shaping the course of the future are the communicators.”
(05/06/15 3:35pm)
WRMC’s annual spring concert, Sepomana, offered an exciting and eclectic lineup of acts spanning genres and continents. Hosted in the McCullough Student Center’s Wilson Hall, acts made creative use of space, light and sound to create a consistently surprising experience.
Opener and student band Iron Eyes Cody performed a solid set of soulful folk-tinged rock, making notable use of unprecedented instrumentation; in this case, saxophones were incorporated seamlessly into the group’s texture while offering unique room for playful experimentation. Always engaging, Iron Eyes Cody was a grounded and vibrant prelude to what proved to be an eclectic evening.
In the brief break between acts, I was surprised to witness drums, microphone stands and speakers being rolled out to the center of the concert space, level with the standing-room audience. Israel-based Yonatan Gat was thus assembled, encircled by the audience and dramatically flanked by a single light emanating from the middle of the room. As he dug into a frenetic, relentless set, a spirited, communal energy washed over the room. Yonatan Gat and his band were not deified, but were participants in the same eccentric dance party as their audience, at times acting as near-literal ringleaders, at others dancing among and with members of the audience.
Their instrumental sound was punctuated only briefly about midway through their set by a few fleeting bars of sung verse, before they launched back into the demanding licks and runs of their endless grooves. Often, a clear melody, underpinned by an undeniable rhythmic groove, would be established and sustained for some time before the manic momentum of the performance carried both away. Yonatan Gat was the kinetic center to Sepomana, producing a manic expressiveness that stood in contrast and compliment to the other acts.
New York-based Ratking offered a compelling counterpoint to the incisive sparseness of Yonatan Gat. Where Yonatan Gat found frenzy in precision, crafting carefully coordinated thrill rides, Ratking’s caustic and confrontational ambience was borne of intricate sound design courtesy of producer Sporting Life. Rappers Wiki and Hak played off each other’s performances to great effect, Wiki’s dynamic delivery contrasting Hak’s typically languid, solid style. Ratking’s youthful evocation of city life has its roots in a long succession of New York City rappers, but through their embrace of a myriad of styles and sounds, they echo an experience all their own.
To close out a night of diverse and compelling music making, Montreal-based producer and DJ Lunice proved to be a crowd-pleaser. In an uninterrupted set of electronic dance music, Lunice drew from a bevy of styles, sampling everything from familiar hits to intriguing lesser-known projects. In this sense, Lunice was an apt encapsulation of Sepomana in total: a nimble, high-energy, all-embracing showcase of myriad styles and sounds.
(04/29/15 9:34pm)
Melissa MacDonald ’15’s directorial adaptation of Martin Crimp’s play Fewer Emergencies, Emergency 1A, was presented April 23-25 in the Hepburn Zoo. Above all, it is driven by stories. There is no true plot. The characters, in all of their variations, lack a history or true identity. Instead, each character, like their audience, interacts with stories. Narration is not a vehicle for content, but is an endpoint in itself. The greatest surprise in this production is discovering how affecting and exciting these stories are.
(04/15/15 4:11pm)
One of many exciting productions featured at the Town Hall Theater this April, The Last Five Years directed by Doug Anderson, proved to be a compelling rendition of Jason Robert Brown’s popular 2001 musical. Starring Mike McCann ’15 – who initiated this production as part of his senior thesis – and Kim Anderson, the intimate character study traces the five-year relationship of Jamie and Cathy, one a rising literary star and the other a struggling actress.
Notable for its unconventional narrative structure, Brown’s musical is told through two contrasting points of view. Cathy’s story is presented in reverse chronological order, beginning at the dissolution of the relationship and ending near their initial meeting, while Jamie’s story traces the relationship chronologically from its inception to its demise. Through this diverged structure, The Last Five Years maintains both a sense of inevitability – the audience is aware of the relationship’s ultimate failure from the beginning – and a sense of consistent narrative tension, as the complete picture of the relationship only forms by the musical’s end.
Anderson’s production relied on an effectively simple blocking device to track both character’s stories as they unfolded. Along the stage floor were marked the years of the relationship. As each character progressed forward or backward in time, they moved along the physical timeline, beginning and ending on opposing sides of the stage. When they meet together in their only shared scene at about the midpoint of the story, the narrative significance of this moment is underscored by the each character’s physical place on stage; not until this moment, and never after, are they as physically close, looking at each other rather than outwards at the audience.
In this way, Anderson’s production is well aware of the careful entanglement of tragedy and joy, hope and disillusionment. Only at the midpoint is the mood and mindset of the characters ever fully unified. It is no coincidence that this is also the happiest moment in the musical, without the shading of resentment, disillusionment or bitter frustration that inherently colors nearly all other scenes.
Anderson’s and McCann’s powerful performances were further representative of a careful understanding of the musical’s nuances. Each brought to life an autonomous story thread that was simultaneously dependent on and illuminated by the other. McCann’s charming and ambitious Jamie was a natural counterpart to Anderson’s strong-willed and grounded Cathy. As the musical unfolds, each performer subtly expresses the obstacles that the characters face; McCann’s Jamie has fewer moments of goofy endearment, while Anderson aptly expresses the slow burn that comes from years of professional and personal frustrations.
A particular strength of both performers showed in their adding lighthearted touches that fleshed out their characters and balanced what is otherwise an emotionally taxing ninety minutes. One sequence, in which Anderson auditions for a part in a musical, is brilliant in its send-up of the industry and deep understanding of its harsh realities. Cathy sings her audition song over and over, at one point substituting the lyrics for a stream-of-consciousness of her inner anxieties and frustrations. Anderson plays Cathy’s nervousness and paranoia beautifully, grounding it in the context of Cathy’s resolute realism.
McCann, too, gave a strong performance that deftly handles the enormous challenges it presents. McCann’s Jamie is comically charming and self-assured, but he is not an unassailable hero; Cathy’s frustrations over his growing distance as he becomes ever-engrossed in his career fit into the context of McCann’s performance.
A particular highlight of McCann’s performance comes in the first half of the musical. During Cathy and Jamie’s first Christmas together, he tells her a myth of his own invention regarding a tailor named Schmuel who, after a lifetime of menial work, finally realizes it is worth more in life to pursue one’s greatest ambition.
This largely comical sequence dovetails into a touching moment in which he presents Cathy with a watch, promising her the time she needs to pursue her dream.
McCann infuses this scene with a careful balance of tenderness and comedy. All the more compelling is the fact that Anderson’s Cathy is not physically a part of this scene, but is understood to be present. Instead, the audience becomes a stand in for Cathy, the only witness to his thoughtfulness and affection.
Perhaps this element is the key to the intimate power of The Last Five Years. The audience is as much a part of the musical’s central relationship as the two leads, acting as each character’s confidant, aware of inner desires and anxieties that even the other character may remain blind to.
In this way, Doug Anderson’s production of The Last Five Years appeals to a singular power of theater. It presents a life staged in miniature, creating a space in which an audience can inhabit and live out its greatest fears and aspirations. Though the details may vary, nearly everyone has experienced the hope and disenchantment of a failed relationship. Through powerful performances and thoughtful staging, Anderson’s production inhabits the intersection of intimacy and universality where The Last Five Years resides.
(03/18/15 2:00pm)
For over a decade, the College has annually celebrated Irish music and dance in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. This year saw a continuation of this tradition with some notable changes. Affiliate Artists Timothy Cummings, Pete Sutherland and Dominique Dodge joined with alumnus Caleb Elder ’04 and an array of current students to lead this year’s proceedings.
Unlike in years past, the event was a hybrid of a conventional concert experience and an interactive traditional dance. To accommodate this new structure, the event was held in Wilson Hall, a move from the Kevin P. Mahaney ’84 Center for the Arts (MCA) Concert Hall, where it has been held in the past. Similar to last year’s event, which married Irish and Scottish music, this year’s event incorporated both Irish and Appalachian music, which share a cultural history and significant musical links.
Cummings offered some insight into these changes while speaking to the core spirit of the event, which has remained rooted in its origins.
“We’re definitely changing things, in large part because I am not an operatic tenor [as previous event organizer Francois Clemmons was], I’m an instrumentalist,” Cummings said. “It’s more tradition-focused and more dance-focused, but there’s still an element of inviting the audience to participate in some of the songs, which Francois had done as well.”
The desire to offer audiences the ability to participate in Irish and Appalachian dance seems to be borne of a desire to offer a more authentic and natural experience.
“It’s really weird to be playing highly rhythmic dance tunes on stage and to see people just sit politely and very still,” Cummings said.
This impulse was immediately apparent in the first half of the event, which was organized as a more conventional concert.
The performers were seated on stage, Cummings on various bagpipes, smallpipes and Border pipes, Dominique Dodge on harp, Pete Sutherland primarily on fiddle and banjo and Elder on fiddle and mandolin while the audience filled in the rows of seats.
Yet the rhythmic, infectious nature of Irish dance music seemed to fully engage the audience from the start. Patrons seated near the stage would tap a foot or bob a head here and there while a mother swayed with her child, at times falling into choreographed hand games. By the time the chairs were cleared and audience members were invited to dance, they relished the opportunity, and it became clear that this music demanded physical expression.
Before this moment of release came, the concert prelude featured myriad musical styles, instruments and artists. Performers moved seamlessly from sprightly dance tunes to heart-wrenching ballads, drawing out the subtle distinctions inherent in Irish and Appalachian cultural contexts while often uniting them in arrangement or in emphasizing particular musical features.
At times student performers were invited on stage, including Scott Collins ’15 on Scottish smallpipes, Laura Harris ’17 on accordion and Milo Stanley ’17.5 and Ellen Taylor ’15 on fiddle. One number was even accompanied by Appalachian clogging performed by local talent Kristin Bolton. In this way, the audience was exposed to a wide range of traditional music, drawn from different styles, different continents and different points in time. Yet a consistent feature of this music was its endearingly participatory quality.
Whether sunny or grim in mood, each piece was structured to allow an audience completely unfamiliar with the music to jump in at the next refrain of the chorus, or to simply bask in the intricately interwoven harmonies of the unique traditional instruments with the security of knowing the piece would soon return to a familiar key or phrase.
Cummings also noted this particular feature of the Irish and Appalachian music that he chose to feature.
“It’s very casual and free-spirited – nothing formal about it,” he said. “It’s the music and the dance of the people in that way – it’s not necessarily ‘high art.’ It’s designed not to be virtuosic, but instead to include everybody.”
When the chairs were finally cleared away and Mary Wesley assumed the stage as dance caller, the casual and free-spirited nature of Irish and Appalachian music was fully realized. Large numbers of students, families, children and older couples took to the dance floor, eagerly embracing the music in a way that suggests – despite its antiquated, unfamiliar flavor – that it continues to resonate and engage modern audiences. That afternoon succeeded in using the peripheral niche of traditional music as an avenue for audience members to celebrate and participate in an engaging communal musical experience.
In this way, Cummings seems to have accomplished his goal.
“I hoped to give people an opportunity to hear live music and to move their bodies, to experience the ‘rapture of being,’” he said. “Tied to all of that, of course, is to involve students in that experience and pass along the torch of tradition.”
(02/18/15 11:17pm)
This past weekend ushered in the College’s 92nd annual Winter Carnival. Alongside the spectator sports and high-energy dances, the Middlebury College Activities Board (MCAB) presented a concert in Wilson Hall on Friday, Feb. 13. The show featured three musical acts across a myriad of genres and made for an engaging, idiosyncratic musical experience.
The brief opening act was a new student band, Movies, featuring Will Cuneo ’15, Nick Rehmus ’15.5 and Bjorn Peterson ’15.5 in a punk-rooted ensemble with an impressively polished sound and engaging stage presence. As they played through a set of dynamic songs, often shifting time signature or tempo mid-song for a diverse listening experience, their energy was palpable. The performance featured improvisatory ornamentation, particularly in the vocal arena.
Eased between two punk acts, Vacationer, based out of Philadelphia and Brooklyn, offered a sharp tonal contrast to headliner Cloud Nothings. Frontman Kenny Vasoli has described their music as “Nu-hula,” and their tropics-infused, surf-rock rooted sound was in rare form on Friday. Featuring Ryan Zimmaro on drums, Michael Mullin on keyboard, Greg Altman on guitar and Matthew Young on a hard-to-miss vibraphone, the band was accompanied by a video projection of what could have been old footage of band members’ seaside summers. Perhaps culled from childhoods past, the intercut tropical scenes would have put the Brazilian Tourist Board to shame.
Vacationer’s breezy set and mood-setting technical effects created a sunny, feel-good experience. What made the show truly engaging were the dedicated performances of the band members, particularly Vasoli, whose goofy grin and mess of curly hair enhanced his bubbly demeanor and confident stage presence. If his quirky dance moves were any indication, Vasoli seemed to be enjoying his indoor beach party as much as the audience before him.
More than anything, Vacationer seemed committed to making the audience feel good inside. At the end of the band’s set, as the scene of a family enjoying some faraway beach rolled in the backdrop and the band eased into another string of sweet, yearning melodies, it became nearly impossible to resist the temptation to loosen your hips and give yourself over to the good vibes.
Following this dreamlike set, Cloud Nothings came thundering in, providing a stark contrast to the easy listening and buoyancy of the preceding set. The three-piece act, a far cry from its origins as an underground solo project by frontman Dylan Baldi, fully embraced the caustic, dissonant style indicative of the band’s latest record, “Here and Nowhere Else.” Yet amidst the searing riffs of bassist Dan Saleh and propulsive, acrobatic work of drummer Jayson Gerycz lay melodies and a harmonic structure as effective and pop-oriented as Baldi’s initial solitary efforts.
Within this thrilling and profuse experience, moments of urgency - sometimes bordering on anxiety - passed by. However, the immaculate structure of the songwriting offered a sense of precision amidst the madness. Each song played less like an endless jam and more like a roller coaster or a lightning rod speeding through the air, fathomable only in its larger structure. In the end, the intricacies of each virtuosic run in the guitar or deafening drum line formed a breathtaking whole.
Cloud Nothings, if not for every listener, was an undeniable marvel and an impressive and accomplished ensemble that has mastered the nuances of a highly impressive song catalogue. In one of the most jaw-dropping moments of the performance, a lengthy song reached a brief rest amidst a cresting crescendo. All three performers managed to hit this millisecond of silence in perfect synchronicity before launching back into a whirlwind of screeching guitar and propulsive percussion. This incredible moment, demonstrative of Baldi, Saleh, and Gerycz’s impressive skills as instrumentalists, rendered extremely effectively in live performance.
Audience reaction is bound to vary following a performance like that of Cloud Nothings, but it is perhaps indisputable that their set was the dark, harrowing peak of an impressive and dynamic concert. All in all, MCAB’s Concert Committee succeeded in bringing together polished, accomplished acts for an engaging concert with something for nearly anyone.
(10/29/14 8:44pm)
On Friday, Oct. 24, the Middlebury MothUP hosted the second annual Cocoon in the Mahaney Center for the Arts. Featuring six storytellers from wildly different backgrounds each tackling the theme of blood, Cocoon was an intimate and singular experiment in narration and audience engagement.
For the uninitiated, Cocoon is fundamentally inspired by The Moth, which was originally created in 1997 by George Dawes Green as a live storytelling event in New York City. Since then, it has been adapted for radio by NPR contributor and six-time Peabody Award recipient Jay Allison as The Moth Radio Hour, in addition to countless variations across the country.
While the College has hosted its own incarnation of The Moth since 2010, Cocoon aimed to bring the popular storytelling format to a larger audience while featuring an expanded cast of storytellers. The event, now in its second year, was completely sold-out and boasted a waitlist of about 40 people, one of the largest crowds ever to express interest in a MCA Concert Hall performance.
Produced by Veronica Rodriguez ’16.5 and coordinated by Luke Greenway ’14.5 and Rachel Liddell ’15 and Director of the MCA Liza Sacheli, Cocoon was a startling and captivating experience. Each storyteller offered something at once entertaining and uninhibited. From Kathryn Blume, an Oregonian reconciling with her far-flung New York relatives, to Bill Torrey, a Vermont native recounting a tale of teenage rebellion, the storytellers offered glimpses into dynamic and complex life experiences. Often fantastic pacing and a natural ability to balance comedy and sobriety enabled the speakers to easily endear themselves to the audience, drawing us in while managing to retain a wholly singular voice.
The beauty of the storytelling format in particular, bare of any script or visual aid, was that each storyteller managed to conjure up entire backdrops with just a few words, allowing the imaginations of the audience members to fill in the gaps. Over the course of a single evening, the audience was transported to the backwoods of midcentury Vermont through Torrey, the swamps of Jacksonville, Florida through Assistant Professor of Dance Christal Brown, and a darkly comical funeral in a Jewish cemetery through Kathryn Blume, as well as Chris de la Cruz ’13 and Melissa Surrette ’16. Each storyteller offered not only a sense of self, but also a sense of place. Through this we can begin to sense the purpose of traditional storytelling. Why have oral traditions existed throughout history, but to bring people to places they may never have the chance to see and to allow them to vicariously live through experiences they otherwise can’t?
The live setting only enhanced the strength of the storytelling format. While radio broadcasts may reach a broader audience, they lack not only the physical shared space of a live show, but also cannot possibly recreate the sense of intimacy that is generated both among members of the audience and between the storytellers and the audience.
In his story, Otto Pierce ’13.5 used blood in multiple contexts, underlying his relationships with three other young men and exploring the social and political forces that have led them, since their initial meeting, to live very different lives than him. Be it an HIV infection, spilt blood or near-death experiences, blood and race have become defining signifiers of distinctions between young men who otherwise share common ground. Pierce mixed the personal and profound adeptly, using his personal experiences to consider the social forces that in many ways determine our futures, and invited the audience to do the same. We came away not only delighted by a story of brotherhood and youthful misadventures, but also sobered by the realization that there still exists such stark injustice in a country that has yet to fully resolve long-established racial disparities.
“Each format has its own kind of beauty,” Allison, who acted as emcee of the event, said. “Just listening is lovely, but going and sitting in a room with an audience and being able to watch people’s faces is also beautiful.”
Yet despite the myriad formats The Moth can take, it has maintained its essential core since its inception.
“It doesn’t change or grow in any fundamental way,” Allison said. “The concept of it has stayed true since the beginning; you just sit there and listen to your fellow man say something honest about their lives, take it or leave it.”
It is this honesty that gives an event like Cocoon its potency. Not only was each story well crafted and interesting, but they all also came from a willingness to share some meaningful experience with virtual strangers, despite the potential for failure or embarrassment. While every story offered something valuable, Brown’s story in particular was able to skillfully marry deft pacing with a raw and resonant subject. While carefully plotted and articulated in a simple and straightforward manner, her exploration of her relationship with her late father still seemed to burst with moments of spontaneous passion. The mark of truly transformative storytelling, Brown seemed to make new discoveries in a story she had likely rehearsed and told many times before. As a result, the audience was left feeling they had witnessed something both deeply personal and massively momentous. The event became not only a shared experience, but also a willful exchange between speaker and audience member. A speaker offered their story, and in exchange, the audience members were left to assess its meaning and perhaps see their own lives a little differently.
In this sense, Cocoon, though high-concept and distinctive, boiled down to the essence of conversation, something that is easy to lose in a world that often seems driven by competing distractions. Yet Cocoon, like all other incarnations of The Moth, suggests there is a craving for this type of extended and unornamented engagement.
“The lovely thing is that people are happily willing to sit there and listen to a single voice for an extended period of time,” Allison said. “It’s an affirming thing to me. We will still pay attention to each other without taking a phone call or needing special effects.”
(10/08/14 12:58pm)
From Oct. 2 to 4, the Theatre Program sponsored the 19th Annual First Years Production: A Cautionary Tale and Others. Directed by alum Bill Army ’07 and composed entirely of first-years, sophomores, and sophomore Febs. A Cautionary Tale and Others was staged in The Hepburn Zoo to a sold out crowd.
A Cautionary Tale and Others unfolded as a set of interconnected scenes from various recently produced plays, each taking a glimpse at the social and technological changes that have developed over our lifetimes and the new challenges they may pose. A monologue on the deceptive nature of media and fiction opened the performance, prompting the audience to question the very premise of the show itself. This opener left the audience with the complex question: if fiction is misleading, and leads us to create damaging expectations for ourselves, what are the merits of the fiction presented before our very eyes?
This ambiguity carries through the bulk of the play. As we observe how dating, gossiping, flirting and mourning have all changed through the proliferation of new digital media, the audience laughed and cringed in equal measure. While at times serious and certainly tackling serious topics, the play was frequently comic and lighthearted. Ben Borgmann-Winter ’18, who played the role of Derek, touched on the binary nature of the show.
“Personally, I felt like it stretched me a little bit in the comedic sense,” he said. “I’ve done more of the dramatic things, but this gave me a couple of different tones to play with.”
Being something of a medley production, the ultimate form of the show was not finalized until somewhat late in the production cycle.
“[Army] didn’t really finish constructing it until after it had been cast,” Borgmann-Winter said. “For example, he added the ending scene partway through our rehearsals. In general, it was a very malleable production, so we had a lot of room to work.”
Being a production for first-years, the show was aimed at students unable to audition for the fall faculty productions, since auditions for such shows are in the spring of the preceding year. This means that the first-year show is on a much tighter production cycle, with three weeks between the first rehearsal and the performances, and it also draws in students with highly disparate experience levels.
“Some people hadn’t been in shows before, while some had been in professional productions, so there was a really wide range of experience,” Borgmann-Winter said. “Overall, it was a friendly, well-rounded group of folks.”
Jesusdaniel Barba ’18 was the Assistant to the Director for the production. Prior to his involvement in A Cautionary Tale and Others, Barba had never participated in theatre.
“It’s the first time I’ve ever done anything theatre-related, so it was really cool to work with Bill, who has done such a great amount of acting and theatre,” Barba said. “It was really interesting to get to know the theatre world and be a part of that niche.”
The production also managed to give more substantial roles to actors who, in the future, may face more competition from upperclassmen.
“It gives us an opportunity to get our feet wet in a lower-key setting with a little less competition,” Borgmann-Winter said. “It has been set up to give everyone a fair amount to work with.”
Tucked away above the Hepburn lounge, the Zoo was an ideal site for the staging of A Cautionary Tale and Others. The sparse set design and digital effects were enhanced by the modest setting, while the scenes themselves were strengthened by the intimacy of the venue. Characters who existed onstage for only minutes at a time could more easily connect with an audience that sat only a few feet away.
The play’s preoccupations with technology manifested physically in the use of innovative digital effects. In a memorable scene, the text-message exchange between a couple was projected visually to the audience while the characters sat in their respective rooms. Some scenes used digital projections to act as backdrops, such as the skyline of a city. Other scenes eschewed the use of digital effects altogether and could almost exist in any sitcom or theatre production of the last twenty or thirty years.
One scene in particular stood out as a powerful contrast to many of the more pronounced references to technology and social media. Coming in somewhere towards the middle of the play, Derek (Borgmann-Winter) and his girlfriend, Vivienne (Isabella Alonzo ’18), sat on a bench overlooking the water in New York City, discussing future plans and the potential challenges they may face as a long-distance couple attending schools on opposite ends of the country.
Both Borgmann-Winter and Barba felt this scene paralleled the experiences of many of the college-aged members of the audience and incorporated an added dimension to the play, making it less about technology in a strict sense and more about the conflict between tradition and the new, where we have been and where we are headed.
“I’ve been there,” Borgmann-Winter said. “It’s quite a conversation. I think a lot of people have probably been there, and recently.”
The production frequently forced the audience to confront their own relationship with technology through a biting and frequently comical satire of modern social behaviors. Yet beneath this farce lay empathetic and complex characters, involved in situations that seemed to be deeply rooted in traditional storytelling. Despite social media and new technologies, we still obsess over the minutiae of budding relationships, confide in friends, butt-heads with siblings and roommates and struggle to come to terms with death and mortality. The ways in which we communicate may have changed, but have we as people changed all that much?
The play’s message is ultimately ambiguous, leaving individual audience members to parse out its deeper implications.
“More than anything it’s a warning to be conscious of how you present yourself,” Borgmann-Winter said. “Like they say in the last scene, it’ll follow you forever. It’s not so much saying that technology is terrible, it’s more suggesting we be smart, sensible, responsible, respectful.”
Barba also recognized the complicated answers and questions we are left with.
“The ending is ambiguous, but I feel what the play is really suggesting is that we change our habits,” Barba said. “I don’t think it was saying we should get rid of [technology] completely because it is a part of who we are and what we do now. We just have to make sure it’s not our first priority.”
(10/01/14 8:32pm)
Following a year of traveling throughout New England, local artist Kate Gridley’s latest exhibition, Passing Through: Portraits of Emerging Adults, has returned to the town that inspired it. With seven portraits on display in the Kevin P. Mahaney ’84 Center for the Arts (MCA) and ten on display in the Jackson Gallery at the Town Hall Theater, Gridley’s exhibit has inspired a number of interdisciplinary events within the community, each focused on the young adult experience.
On Sept. 26, Clark University psychologist Jeffrey Arnett gave a public lecture in Dana Auditorium, looking at the changing experience of the contemporary young adult through a psychological and sociological lens. Afterwards, Gridley led public tours of the gallery exhibit at the MCA. That evening, she was joined by Visiting Assistant Professor of Theatre Dana Yeaton and his Playwriting I students, who were tasked with creating fictional monologues inspired by Gridley’s oil portraits.
In many ways, Gridley’s piece itself stems from a desire to marry distinct disciplines and mediums. While the oil portraits act as the literal face of the exhibition, each painting is accompanied by an audial narrative cut from an interview that can be accessed digitally through the use of QR codes. The piece incorporates perhaps one of the oldest purposes of visual art portraits with more recently developed mediums and seamlessly integrated digital technology.
This interdisciplinary approach is in service of bringing attention to a demographic that Gridley feels is often misrepresented.
“This generation gets a lot of criticism, and I feel it is inappropriate,” Gridley said. “For the most part, this is a very hardworking, passionate, ‘wants to do good in the world,’ very intentional generation. I think it’s one of the most extraordinary, interesting developmental periods.”
Gridley’s attitudes stem from experiences that in many ways parallel what is becoming the norm among our generation.
“When I graduated college, to my surprise, I was given a fellowship to continue to paint,” she said. “My father said to me, ‘You have your twenties to figure out how to make this work, and if by the time you’re thirty this isn’t working, you’re going to have to come up with something else.’ I think that was extraordinary, and he was way ahead of the times.”
Our emerging idea of the current generation in many ways reflects what has been Gridley’s long-held belief for years.
“[Jeffrey Arnett], who spoke at the Emerging Adulthood lecture, loves this group between 18 and 29, and I have to say, I feel the same way,” she said. “I found today - and I’ve never met him or read his work before - that he has quantified all that I have observed.”
Gridley’s piece has been in development for years and could even extend further into the future. Each subject originally sat for a photo shoot, which became the basis for the oil portrait, and were then interviewed for the sound portrait, which synthesized an hour-long interview into a three-to-four minute narrative.
For many of the participants, this process took place years ago, but alterations to the paintings have been added more recently. This is both a reflection of Gridley’s insistence that her subjects feel comfortable with the final result, as well as a desire to reflect changes in the identities of subjects who are still forming and shaping these identities. Gridley confessed that only one of her portraits was actually varnished and complete, while the others remain open to alterations indefinitely.
“After I painted the original portrait of EJ [one of Gridley’s subjects], she came to me and told me about how she began wearing this bracelet that belonged to her great- aunt, and because of what she meant to EJ it became a very big part of her identity,” Gridley said. “And so I put in the bracelet.”
While the decision to alter the paintings is very much tied to the specific theme of Gridley’s work, it was also rooted in classical tenets of portraiture that include symbolism as characteristic of specific subjects.
While she gave her subjects complete freedom to choose what they would wear and how they would present themselves, oftentimes certain articles of clothing or accessories were borne of a desire to communicate a specific idea.
“[For Aubrey], I decided I wanted a specific symbol of Western culture, as he’s originally from Botswana, so we went with sunglasses, and that was very intentional. We built that symbol together,” Gridley said. “Maddy actually made the butterfly ribbon to wear in her hair that day, and that to me represents a piece of her heritage. Now she lives in Vermont, and she wore a lumberjack plaid dress, which I think is incredibly cool.”
For that reason, all of Gridley’s subjects were people with whom she had developed personal relationships prior to initiating the project. This allowed her to have more intimate conversations that enhanced the quality of the sound portraits.
“It was important that everybody I painted have something interesting to say and not be afraid to say it ... it was also important that everyone be distinct from each other, that it wasn’t just a set of cookie cutter models,” she said.
Maddy Sanchez ’17 had her photo shoot and interview years ago while she was still in high school, but she still feels the resulting piece is an accurate portrayal.
“Things have changed, but the general concept is still me,” she said. “I haven’t listened to the sound portrait in a while, but I know I started off by saying I don’t like to be alone and that’s still true.”
Sanchez is the subject of a promotional portrait that has been distributed throughout the New England area, garnering a fame that she did not expect.
“For me, it’s a little strange right now, because it’s being shown at the College and I have friends who are going around saying, ‘Maddy, your face is everywhere!’” she said. “It was more like I gave Kate her material and she went off with it. Even though it’s me, it’s her work.”
Sanchez also appreciated Gridley’s focus on portraying adolescents in a non-traditional, positive light.
“I do think it’s a good idea. [Kate] points out that there are portraits of babies, and portraits of older people, but the image that most people have of kids our age ... tends to be pretty negative,” she said. “I think showing another side is a good idea because we’re not all the same, and she has a good variety of us in there.”
For now, at least, these seventeen subjects are our only window into Gridley’s depiction of emerging adults. Yet Gridley makes it clear that these seventeen subjects are in no way representative of every young person.
“It was more about my experience,” she said. “It just seemed like a reasonable lens since many kids had come through Middlebury for different reasons. I say this is just a slice of seventeen kids who came through this town at this time. That’s really the demographic they are, I can’t say anything bigger, I can’t draw any bigger conclusions.”
The exhibit will run until Oct. 26.