gypsy
We went up last night to Baylor University to see the musical Gypsy, in which my niece Hannah stars as Mama Rose. Her old friend Sarah Smith plays Louise (who becomes Gypsy Rose Lee, the burlesque star). Wow, what a performance!! All the major characters were well fleshed-out and were pretty much everything they were supposed to be. (Some memorable minor characters too.)
Hannah and Sarah have been performing together since they were children; their ability to play off each other and build a message, already well-honed when they were doing scenes from Wicked at the church talent show, has grown into a subtle and powerful partnership. The dressing-room scene in which Gypsy confronts her mother with the built-up frustration of a lifetime was as good as theater gets, anywhere.
It takes more than just musicianship and acting talent to be great at this kind of stuff. You also need to be fearless in front of a crowd, fearless enough to withhold nothing, and it helps to have some depth of knowledge about what you're doing. On top of that, a precious few, even of the ones who become pros, have that quality that can reach out and grab an audience and hold it there right in the palm of the hand. I've been glad for a long time to see that Hannah has that elusive magical quality and uses it well.
What I liked about her performance — and what, I think, distinguishes her from even the famous interpretations of this role — is that she brought a veined humanity to the character, some softness that you didn't hear in Merman, though maybe a little in Peters.
Merman, of course, was never my favorite: in "Rose's Turn," the final monologue that does the same duty as the mad scene from Lucia, her performance was 2-dimensional (a welcome expansion for her!), but when she gets to the part where she stumbles over the word "mama," and begins to have a moment of clarity, you can tell that she's just reading in the score what she's supposed to do and it sounds like she has no idea why. Maybe it's just that she was from a more melodramatic era. Bette Midler, on the other hand, just blows through the whole thing, knowing it's a Show-Stopping Dramatic Performance, but lacks the touch that Midler had at her best.
Then listen to Brake! I love that at a few points during "Rose's Turn" (as well as at a few key moments in the show) her voice ripens into a self-pitying sob, just the tiniest bit overdone, that's perfect. Technically, it requires utter control over one's instrument; emotionally, it deepens what's written and brings to life everything that makes Rose what she is: that toxic self-regarding self-dramatizing version of love that is nonetheless love. It's a real innovation.
All in all, terrific. Even Catherine, who regularly brings along a book when we go to a Broadway show (and did last night), was truly glad we went and enjoyed it immensely. (Didn't even read once!)
Congratulations to everyone who put this on, perhaps especially the theater prof who had the insight to know what Baylor has on its hands in Hannah, and chose this show to begin with.
Hannah and Sarah have been performing together since they were children; their ability to play off each other and build a message, already well-honed when they were doing scenes from Wicked at the church talent show, has grown into a subtle and powerful partnership. The dressing-room scene in which Gypsy confronts her mother with the built-up frustration of a lifetime was as good as theater gets, anywhere.
It takes more than just musicianship and acting talent to be great at this kind of stuff. You also need to be fearless in front of a crowd, fearless enough to withhold nothing, and it helps to have some depth of knowledge about what you're doing. On top of that, a precious few, even of the ones who become pros, have that quality that can reach out and grab an audience and hold it there right in the palm of the hand. I've been glad for a long time to see that Hannah has that elusive magical quality and uses it well.
What I liked about her performance — and what, I think, distinguishes her from even the famous interpretations of this role — is that she brought a veined humanity to the character, some softness that you didn't hear in Merman, though maybe a little in Peters.
Merman, of course, was never my favorite: in "Rose's Turn," the final monologue that does the same duty as the mad scene from Lucia, her performance was 2-dimensional (a welcome expansion for her!), but when she gets to the part where she stumbles over the word "mama," and begins to have a moment of clarity, you can tell that she's just reading in the score what she's supposed to do and it sounds like she has no idea why. Maybe it's just that she was from a more melodramatic era. Bette Midler, on the other hand, just blows through the whole thing, knowing it's a Show-Stopping Dramatic Performance, but lacks the touch that Midler had at her best.
Then listen to Brake! I love that at a few points during "Rose's Turn" (as well as at a few key moments in the show) her voice ripens into a self-pitying sob, just the tiniest bit overdone, that's perfect. Technically, it requires utter control over one's instrument; emotionally, it deepens what's written and brings to life everything that makes Rose what she is: that toxic self-regarding self-dramatizing version of love that is nonetheless love. It's a real innovation.
All in all, terrific. Even Catherine, who regularly brings along a book when we go to a Broadway show (and did last night), was truly glad we went and enjoyed it immensely. (Didn't even read once!)
Congratulations to everyone who put this on, perhaps especially the theater prof who had the insight to know what Baylor has on its hands in Hannah, and chose this show to begin with.
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