In Context: Medea

Photo: Caitlin Cronenberg

In visionary writer-director Simon Stone’s powerful contemporary rewrite, Euripides’ controversial icon is reborn. Transposing the devastation of Greek tragedy to a modern American home with a husband and wife in the tumultuous throes of an unraveling marriage, Stone’s stripped-bare staging throws the couple’s every raw emotion into stark relief, from jealousy to passion, humor to despair.

After you've attended the show, let us know what you thought by posting in the comments below and on social media! (Use #Medea and tag us on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter.)

Program Notes

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Medea (PDF)

Jimmy D’Adamo Lights Up BAM

Jimmy D'Adamo in his natural habitat, stage left. Photo: David Hsieh

By David Hsieh

Jimmy D’Adamo, the head electrician at BAM, once ran the spotlight for his high school plays. “I was hooked,” he said. A short post-college stint at American Express confirmed that “I was not a suit-and-tie person.” So when one of his classmates from Brooklyn College (major: technical theater) asked him to make a change, he immediately went down to the union office (Local 4, International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees [I.A.T.S.E.], AFL-CIO), filled out a card, and started working at BAM in 1977. And now, after 40 years, he is saying goodbye.

Working with a Visionary—Harvey Lichtenstein

Harvey Lichtenstein, who was president and executive producer at BAM from 1967 to 1999, recently passed away. Here are some memories from colleagues of the man who stoutly believed in Brooklyn, and whose actions would immeasurably transform and enrich both the borough's vibrancy and the world's cultural landscape.

Harvey feeling the dancing with his heart, 1985 Photo (crop): J. Ross Baughman

A Forest of Threads—Plexus, Director's Note

French physical theater maverick Aurélien Bory (Sans Objet, 2012 Next Wave) Japanese dancer and choreographer Kaori Ito as both muse and instrument in Plexus, coming to the BAM Harvey Theater Nov 9—13. A note from Bory follows.

Kaori Ito. Photo: Aurélien Bory

Once again my aim was to depict the portrait of a woman, not in the ways of a painter, a photographer or a writer, all very superior in the matter, but I brought body and space into play as the sole focal lens. And dance as the first perspective.

Conceiving Kaori Ito’s portrait through the means of the stage has been a whole process. The scenic device was not a concept we started with. Its design has resulted from a long research period, after several weeks of rehearsal.

On the first days, among other ideas and trials, I had a life-sized puppet made; it was a very realistic scale model of Kaori. “Here is your dance teacher,” I told her. Kaori spent many hours observing and mimicking its movements. From this creation model, I kept only the strings and unfurled them into the whole space. The marionette remained in Kaori’s body.

Reimagining the Majestic Theater

“I can take an empty space and call it a bare stage.

A man walks across this empty space whilst someone

else is watching him, and this is all that is needed for

an act of theatre to be engaged.”

— PETER BROOK

Interior of the Majestic (now the BAM Harvey Theater) circa 1987.

Turning Points: The Judas Kiss and Wildean Imprisonment

By John Cooper

The Judas Kiss, coming to the BAM Harvey Theater May 11—Jun 12, marks a historic return to BAM of the Irish poet, dramatist, and wit Oscar Wilde. This is not, of course, a return of Wilde the playwright, whose works have been staged several times at BAM over the years. It is a return in the sense of the reappearance of Wilde on stage.

No one has appeared as Oscar Wilde at BAM since Wilde himself spoke 134 years ago on a nationwide lecture tour. It is a fitting parallel because Wilde was actually playing a part—masquerading as the poster boy for Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience, a comic opera poking fun at the aesthetic movement.

Akram Khan's Stolen Memories

The following is an essay from 2011 that was included in BAM: The Complete Works, an overview of BAM's history. Akram Khan is a dancer and choreographer who returns to BAM March 2—5 with Torobaka, a collaboration with flamenco dancer Israel Galván.

BAM Majestic/Harvey Theater, 2003. Photo: Ned Witrogen

By Akram Khan

Winter, 27 years ago, I entered through the front door of the Majestic Theater—renamed the Harvey in 1999 in honor of Harvey Lichtenstein—then a young actor in Peter Brook’s production of  The Mahabharata. I was 14 years old and immediately quite disorientated by the unfinished demeanor of the building. Of course, my naiveté lead me to believe that maybe the builders, decorators, and electricians had not finished refurbishing the interior and exterior for our big opening night. But then I asked one of the actors, who impatiently told me: “This is it.” From then on, I decided to make the place my friend. If I was going to spend three months here, then I would make it my home. So all throughout the rehearsal period, I started to explore every corner, passageway, closet, and even the overhead walkways, which had access to the lighting rig high above the stage. I probably knew the layout better than the caretakers. And for the next few months, this place became my imagined, magical world.

2015 Next Wave Preview—Earning the Next

Edivaldo Ernesto in Continu. Photo: Sebastian Bolesch

By Susan Yung

After 32 jam-packed years, the Next Wave Festival moniker gets its share of scrutiny. It was new in 1983, so how could it remain that way? A strong retort exists in descriptors, connected by a neat wave icon, that run along the page margins in the 2015 festival brochure. William Kentridge’s Refuse the Hour is tagged opera〰dance〰music〰visual art. Helen Lawrence: theater〰live filmmaking... and so on. The Next Wave’s multitude of cross-discipline performances are, ostensibly, new hybrid genres. The Next Wave is known for showcasing surprising collaborations by accomplished artists, and that trend is only amplified this fall. Chances are you won’t have seen anything quite like the 32 shows being presented from September through December.

“I knew ‘em all": Eugene O'Neill and the Iceman

By Elliot B. Quick

Visual artist Charles Demuth and Eugene O'Neill in
Provincetown, MA, 1916. 
Photo: Provincetown Playhouse.

A superficial glance at Eugene O’Neill’s The Iceman Cometh, playing the BAM Harvey Theatre through March 15, can leave a modern reader with glazed eyes. I’ll cop to reeling back from terms like “French Syndicalism” and “The Boer War,” which have the vague ring of something I once learned for a high school history test. Hearing old white men talk of Wobblies in the thick accents and archaic speech patterns that O’Neill meticulously records in his dialogue, it’s tempting to class The Iceman Cometh as a historical case study in old men dreaming of old things. Who remembers what an iceman is, anyway?

But if we can penetrate the surfaces of O’Neill’s language and peer outside the grimy windows of Harry Hope’s stale-aired barroom, the summer of 1912 trembles with modern resonance: a turbulent American economy; a contentious presidential election bogged down by party rivalry; glad-handing politicians juggling allegiances between Wall Street and the worker; inflated grassroots leaders shouting inflammatory rhetoric; a rumbling working class striving to articulate the ways they are held off from the American Dream.

The Iceman Cometh in Production

Photo: Liz Lauren

by Steve Scott

The Iceman Cometh is often regarded as a modern masterpiece, but like many great works of art it was eschewed by audiences before eventually achieving popular and critical acclaim. Even its progression from page to stage got off to a slow start: although Eugene O’Neill had completed the initial draft of The Iceman Cometh by late 1939, the play wouldn’t make its official premiere for nearly seven years, due both to the author’s failing health and his reluctance to produce anything during the “damned world debacle” of World War II. But by the winter of 1946, O’Neill’s spirits had revived to the point that he once again looked forward to the rigors of rehearsal and production; by the spring, plans for the New York debut of Iceman were under way. The playwright had initially championed actor/director Eddie Dowling to both direct the production and play the central role of Theodore “Hickey” Hickman, after viewing Dowling’s triumphant work in staging and starring in William Saroyan’s The Time of Your Life. Soon after work on O’Neill’s play began, however, Dowling realized that he couldn’t do both, and he engaged former vaudevillian and film character actor James Barton (formerly hired for the role of Harry Hope) for the daunting role. By all reports, Barton was overwhelmed by the demands of the part, and had difficulties both learning and delivering Hickey’s mammoth confessional monologue in act four. On opening night, October 9, he also spent the dinner intermission entertaining friends in his dressing room, leaving him exhausted and nearly voiceless by the play’s climax. Perhaps as a result, opening night notices were mixed, and the production ran for a disappointingly short run of 136 performances.

Vijay Iyer—Transformer

Vijay Iyer is a prominent jazz pianist and bandleader who also composes classical music. He majored in mathematics and physics in undergrad and graduate schools. Iyer, a MacArthur fellow, brings his genre-spanning music to the BAM Harvey Theater in VIJAY IYER: Music of Transformation (Dec 18—20). We spoke to him about his creative world.

Radhe Radhe. Craig Marsden/Prashant Bhargava

Bryce Dessner and Dianne Berkun-Menaker Discuss Black Mountain Songs

by Susan Yung

Between 1933 and 1957, Black Mountain College in North Carolina was a model of progressive interdisciplinary learning that posited the importance of the arts. Brilliant thinkers from many genres spent time there: Buckminster Fuller, Anni and Josef Albers, John Cage, Merce Cunningham. The rich collaborative spirit of the college suffuses Black Mountain Songs, a suite of commissioned songs by eight composers curated by Bryce Dessner and Richard Reed Parry, sung by the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, directed by Maureen Towey, with a film by Matt Wolf and sets by Mimi Lien. The composers are Dessner, Parry, Caroline Shaw, Nico Muhly, Aleksandra Vrebalov, John King, Jherek Bischoff, and Tim Hecker. Dianne Berkun-Menaker directs the chorus and conducts.

We asked Dessner (curator, musician, songwriter, composer, and member of The National) and Berkun-Menaker (chorus director and conductor) about the project.

Black Mountain College. Photo: Hazel Larsen Archer

Where did the inspiration come from to honor Black Mountain College?

Bryce Dessner: I have been interested in Black Mountain College for many years. I went to summer camp in North Carolina as a kid just a few miles from the site of the college and actually learned to play music in those same mountains that spawned some of the greatest artists and art movements of the 20th century. I first learned about Black Mountain College through the well-known and incredibly long-running John Cage and Merce Cunningham collaboration, which was in its early years at Black Mountain (both were teachers at the college). I learned more about the college later in reading about the many profoundly important visual artists who came through there either as teachers, visiting lecturers or students (Robert Rauschenberg, Cy Twombly, Robert Motherwell, Willem de Kooning, Philip Guston, Franz Kline, etc.).

In Context: BASETRACK Live

BASETRACK Live runs at BAM from November 11—15. Context is everything, so get even closer to the show with this curated selection of original blog pieces, articles, interviews, and videos related to the production. Once you've seen it, help us keep the conversation going by telling us what you thought below.

BASETRACK Live—Virtually Home

The Afghanistan war, started after 9/11, is one of the costliest and longest wars our country has seen. While there has been no lack of coverage, unfiltered reports from people directly affected by the war are harder to come by. That is why the photojournalist Teru Kuwayama’s Facebook project Basetrack created so many waves in 2010. It provided a platform not only for marines on the frontline, but also for their families and friends to connect and tell the world what they saw and felt. Those first-hand accounts are now a theater work, BASETRACK Live, created by Edward Bilous and directed by Seth Bockley (Harvey Theater, Nov 11—15). Using words and images culled from the Basetrack archive and interviews conducted by the creative team, this multi-media work features two actors, four musicians, and a cascade of images and videos, telling the firsthand stories of marines and their families. For producer Anne Hamburger, to get it on stages around the country is as much an artistic adventure as a civic engagement. She discusses the genesis and goals of BASETRACK Live.

What are the challenges in bringing this show to the stage?

Anne Hamburger: As BASETRACK Live is a truly collaborative, multi-media piece, it can’t exist as a script on paper. It’s only when the elements come together that you know how they relate. In performances at the University of Florida in Gainesville we experimented with script and structure with the whole creative team. In a second residency at ASU Gammage in Arizona we focused on integrating the technological elements, refining the video, music, and live performance in relationship to one another.

The central characters are AJ, a Marine, and his newlywed, Melissa. Their lines are taken from interviews with them. They face difficulties because of AJ’s war experience. Is their story representative of military couples? How are they coping with having their lives seen by thousands of strangers?

AH: Their experience is typical for young recruits returning home. Many people enlist when they are very young, and then go overseas for multiple deployments, placing real strain on their families. The war also changes people and coming home is a huge, often misunderstood adjustment. This is one of the issues that BASETRACK Live vividly portrays. AJ and Melissa—thrilled and grateful that their story is at the center of BASETRACK Live—attended our world premiere in Austin, and BAM.

Lisa Dwan—Strapped In, Babbling Away

Director Walter Asmus and Lisa Dwan in rehearsal. Photo by John Haynes

Lisa Dwan first performed Not I in 2005 in a production directed by Nathalie Abrahami at London’s Battersea Arts Centre, and subsequently worked with Billie Whitelaw, who originated the role under Samuel Beckett’s direction. Following are excerpts of Dwan’s thoughts on preparing for the demanding performance with Whitelaw and director Walter Asmus, and on Beckett, adapted from a BBC interview done in September 2014.

by Lisa Dwan

Few know what it is to have your entire nervous system splayed open like that, Few know what it is to be suspended in that darkness, let alone the hideous difficulty of learning a text such as Not I, and to go on to perform one of the most difficult pieces ever devised. But there is one. One who knew more than most.

I met Billie Whitelaw in 2006 a few months after my first performance of Not I in London. Edward Beckett attended one of those performances and over a Guinness with me afterwards suggested it might be finally worthwhile to meet her “…now that I’d found my own way.”

And as luck would have it a few weeks after that the BBC put us in touch for an in-conversation piece about the role.

BAM Blog Questionnaire: Joanne Howard, set designer for Alan Smithee

The set's floor in process. Photo: Joanne Howard

Big Dance Theater is known for its engrossing productions that shapeshift between dance and theater, but a constant among its shows is the presence of memorable set designs. Joanne Howard has been designing sets for many Big Dance Theater productions including Alan Smithee Directed This Play: Triple Feature, coming up at the BAM Harvey Theater from Sep 30—Oct 4. The busy designer shared a few thoughts in a BAM Blog Questionnaire.

You are a close collaborator of Annie-B Parson and Paul Lazar. How did you meet?
Annie-B and I were introduced through a mutual friend. I needed a roommate and she needed a room.
 
What are your some of your favorite props from Alan Smithee?
It's a toss up between the fur coats and the telephones.

Laurie Anderson—Storyteller

Laurie Anderson wrote Landfall for Kronos Quartet (Harvey Theater, Sep 23—27), drawing on experiences from Hurricane Sandy. Projected text is triggered electronically, compounding the stories.

Anderson is one of the first Next Wave artists, bringing her epic United States: Parts I—IV to BAM in 1983, before the series became a festival. Prior to Landfall, 10 BAM performances featured her unforgettable sui generis music-theater, or involved her music. The following is a sidebar which was included in BAM: The Complete Works, an overview of BAM's history.

Laurie Anderson in Delusion, 2010. Photo: Rahav Segev

by Don Shewey

Anytime someone in contemporary culture wants to peer into the future, they usually try to engage Laurie Anderson to serve as consciousness scout. She’s a visionary who can be relied upon to bring curiosity, humor, and intelligence to the question “What’s next?” whether the subject is art, media, technology, spirituality, outer space, the political climate, or the new millennium. She’s a dauntless pioneer who surfs the edge between the known and unknown with a visual artist’s eye, a linguist’s ear, and a storyteller’s tongue, wearing her signature spiky haircut and soft, spangly slippers. She has put a friendly face on the sometimes-forbidding phenomenon we call avant-garde art.

A university-trained sculptor and art historian from a large, affluent suburban Chicago family, Anderson emerged from the fertile, cross-pollinated art garden that was 1970s SoHo to become the world’s first performance-artist-as-pop-star, thanks to “O Superman,” the unlikely hit song from her 1980 performance United States Part II. Its “ha-ha-ha-ha” sampled voice tape-loop has joined the pop pantheon of famous riffs alongside the buzzing guitar of “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” or the opening notes of “Billie Jean.” And the accompanying video, album, and concert tours—including the complete four-part United States, unveiled at BAM in 1983 in the second season of the Next Wave series, the first of Anderson’s many appearances at BAM—created a new form of pop performance collage in which DIY graphics, images, electronic sounds, movement, and spoken word could be infinitely recombined, paving the way for innovative art-music-video practitioners from the early days of MTV to innovative contemporary rock-theatrical performers such as Björk and Lady Gaga.

BAM Blog Questionnaire: Liubo Borissov of Landfall

Landfall. Photo: Marc Allan

Landfall, inspired by the experience of Hurricane Sandy, was written by Laurie Anderson for Kronos Quartet. Liubo Borissov programmed the software Erst used in Landfall—dense projected texts are triggered musically, lapping and overlapping as Anderson spins stories. Landfall is at the BAM Harvey Theater, Sep 23—27, part of Nonesuch Records at BAM. Borissov was kind enough to participate in a BAM Blog Questionnaire.

How did you meet Laurie Anderson and Kronos Quartet?
Laurie and I first met a few years ago when she was looking for some ideas redesigning her live performance setup into a more compact and streamlined system. In one of our sessions the collaboration with Kronos came up before anyone knew it was going to become Landfall.

What is unique about the software you have designed for Landfall? 

Typically software design has utilitarian connotations of a general tool with some practical functionality, e.g. a word processor, which is not really what I do. Instead, code is more of a means of expression, and the piece of software that is the result is much closer to a custom-built musical instrument or an open-ended score that one has to learn how to play. In that sense almost everything about it is unique because it serves the purpose of bringing a specific idea to life and is part of the work of art.

The Majestic BAM Harvey Theater

by Louie Fleck

Imagine if you will, the entertainment options in 1904: no internet, no video games, no YouTube or TV… in fact practically no movies! Oh yes, and no radio. If you wanted to be entertained, you had to go somewhere.
 
Imagine Fulton Street, Brooklyn in 1904… No sneakers or cell phone stores or discount closeout shops! But there were a lot of theaters. Only six years after consolidation to become part of the City of New York, Brooklyn had its own “Broadway” district on Fulton Street. The newest jewel in this Brooklyn theater row was designed by J. B. McElfatrick at 651 Fulton Street. Meanwhile, just a block away, construction was about to begin on the brand new Brooklyn Academy of Music.


The Majestic opened up with a production of The Wizard of Oz (yes, 33 years before the Judy Garland film). Here at the BAM Hamm Archives, we’re still looking for a program, but it was most likely a road version of the hit that was running at the Manhattan Majestic at the same time. For this production, Toto was played by a cow. Can you imagine the flying monkeys carrying Toto away?

According to the August 24, 1904 Brooklyn Daily Eagle, when it opened, “Brooklyn’s Perfect Theater” had a seating capacity of “over 2300, as follows: lower floor 724, balcony 564, and gallery about 1,000.” Add 12 boxes, each with a capacity of six people, and you have a total of about 2360, making it larger than the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Opera House at 2100 seats!

From 1904 through the late 1930s, Broadway shows regularly transferred to the Brooklyn Majestic. There were notable appearances by Al Jolson, Bert Lahr, Milton Berle, and the Earl Carroll Vanities.

Graphic Details: A Visual Identity for BAMcinemaFest 2014

by Katie Positerry

BAMcinemaFest kicked off this week with Boyhood at the BAM Harvey Theater. To celebrate the festival, the BAM design team pulled back the curtain to reveal some of the thought process behind the visual identity of this year's festival.

In six short years, BAMcinemaFest has grown into one of the primary New York springboards for emerging filmmakers. It introduced New York audiences to Andrew Haigh’s Weekend, Lena Dunham’s Tiny Furniture, Benh Zeitlin’s Beasts of the Southern Wild, and many others—films that have gone on to win international acclaim and make waves both in and beyond the indie film scene.

The identity for this year’s BAMcinemaFest was inspired by this—a festival of emerging voices in American independent cinema. The design features typography that quite literally emerges—whether from the printed page or on screen.