window.__IS_SSR__=true
window.__INITIAL_STATE__={
"attachmentsReducer": {
"audio_0": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_0",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background0.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_1": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_1",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background1.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_2": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_2",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background2.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_3": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_3",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background3.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_4": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_4",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background4.jpg"
}
}
},
"placeholder": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "placeholder",
"imgSizes": {
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 107,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-800x533.jpg",
"width": 800,
"height": 533,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-768x512.jpg",
"width": 768,
"height": 512,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"large": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"1536x1536": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1536x1024.jpg",
"width": 1536,
"height": 1024,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1536x1024.jpg",
"width": 1536,
"height": 1024,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-800x533.jpg",
"width": 800,
"height": 533,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"height": 576,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 107,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"small": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1920x1280.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1280,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 32,
"height": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 50,
"height": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 64,
"height": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 96,
"height": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 128,
"height": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1.jpg",
"width": 2000,
"height": 1333
}
}
},
"arts_10025374": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10025374",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10025374",
"found": true
},
"parent": 25374,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/09/american-idiot-248x1405.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/09/american-idiot-248x1405-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
}
},
"publishDate": 1253331246,
"modified": 1253331246,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "American Idiot-Photo: Berkeley Repertory Theater",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10025174": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10025174",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10025174",
"found": true
},
"parent": 25174,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/08/producers-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/08/producers-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/08/producers-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/08/producers-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/08/producers-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/08/producers-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1250022522,
"modified": 1250022522,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "The Producers at Foothill Musical Theatre-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10025093": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10025093",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10025093",
"found": true
},
"parent": 25093,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/07/tinyard-hill-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/07/tinyard-hill-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/07/tinyard-hill-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/07/tinyard-hill-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/07/tinyard-hill-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/07/tinyard-hill-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1248218767,
"modified": 1248218767,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Tinyard Hill-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024856": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024856",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024856",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24856,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/06/lips-together-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/06/lips-together-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/06/lips-together-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/06/lips-together-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/06/lips-together-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/06/lips-together-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1244751401,
"modified": 1244751401,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Lips Together, Teeth Apart-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024805": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024805",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024805",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24805,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/you-nero-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/you-nero-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/you-nero-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/you-nero-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/you-nero-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/you-nero-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1243649076,
"modified": 1243649076,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "You, Nero-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024757": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024757",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024757",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24757,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/fuku-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/fuku-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/fuku-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/fuku-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/fuku-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/fuku-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1243562474,
"modified": 1243562474,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Fukú Adaptationus: Campo Santo Acts Out Oscar Wao-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024613": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024613",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024613",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24613,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/way-of-world-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/way-of-world-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/way-of-world-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/way-of-world-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/way-of-world-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/05/way-of-world-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1242170098,
"modified": 1242170098,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "The Way of the World-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024499": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024499",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024499",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24499,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/04/breaking-code-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/04/breaking-code-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/04/breaking-code-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/04/breaking-code-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/04/breaking-code-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/04/breaking-code-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1240344101,
"modified": 1240344101,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Breaking the Code-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024291": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024291",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024291",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24291,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/3-musketeers-248x1406.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/3-musketeers-248x1406-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
}
},
"publishDate": 1237926175,
"modified": 1237926175,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "The Three Musketeers at City Lights-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024137": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024137",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024137",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24137,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/pick-up-ax-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/pick-up-ax-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/pick-up-ax-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/pick-up-ax-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/pick-up-ax-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/03/pick-up-ax-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1236122268,
"modified": 1236122268,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Pick Up Ax-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10024064": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10024064",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10024064",
"found": true
},
"parent": 24064,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/02/next-room-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/02/next-room-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/02/next-room-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/02/next-room-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/02/next-room-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2009/02/next-room-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1234567218,
"modified": 1234567218,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "In the Next Room-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10023745": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10023745",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10023745",
"found": true
},
"parent": 23745,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/11/arabian-nights-248x140.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/11/arabian-nights-248x140-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/11/arabian-nights-248x140-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/11/arabian-nights-248x140-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/11/arabian-nights-248x140-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/11/arabian-nights-248x140-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1227661585,
"modified": 1227661585,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "The Arabian Nights-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
}
},
"audioPlayerReducer": {
"postId": "stream_live",
"isPaused": true,
"isPlaying": false,
"pfsActive": false,
"pledgeModalIsOpen": true,
"playerDrawerIsOpen": false,
"liveAudioPlayStartedAt": 0,
"liveAudioPlayContext": ""
},
"authorsReducer": {
"bmarks": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "26",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "26",
"found": true
},
"name": "Ben Marks",
"firstName": "Ben",
"lastName": "Marks",
"slug": "bmarks",
"email": "gobenmarks@yahoo.com",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": null,
"bio": "Ben Marks is a peninsula-based writer and editor. He has covered theater, visual arts, and restaurants for numerous publications. He has also been a lobster and scallop fisherman in Maine, run a restaurant in Seattle, blown glass for Dale Chihuly, and boasts numerous other so-called accomplishments that have surprisingly little to do with the arts in the South Bay, which is his focus at KQED.org.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/ac0075b66fea4e8075d298dafc66d269?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"Contributor",
"subscriber"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Ben Marks | KQED",
"description": null,
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/ac0075b66fea4e8075d298dafc66d269?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/ac0075b66fea4e8075d298dafc66d269?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/bmarks"
},
"clight": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "30",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "30",
"found": true
},
"name": "Claire Light",
"firstName": "Claire",
"lastName": "Light",
"slug": "clight",
"email": "FAKE_clight@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": null,
"bio": "Claire Light is a Bay Area writer and cultural worker. She has worked for twelve years in nonprofit administration, particularly arts in the Asian American community. Her MFA in fiction came from San Francisco State University, and some of her fiction is published in \u003ci>McSweeney's\u003c/i>, \u003ci>Hyphen\u003c/i>, \u003ci>Farthing\u003c/i>, and a forthcoming issue of \u003ci>The Encyclopedia Project\u003c/i>. A chapbook of her short stories, called \u003cb>Slightly Behind and to the Left\u003c/b>, was published by Aqueduct Press last December. She has taught writing to teens, college students, and adults, and is currently teaching free writing classes through the Oakland Word program. She blogs at \u003ci>Hyphen\u003c/i> and her personal blog \"SeeLight.\"",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/102528ed8a2e7f862a86f905f41f0e2c?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"Contributor",
"subscriber"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Claire Light | KQED",
"description": null,
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/102528ed8a2e7f862a86f905f41f0e2c?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/102528ed8a2e7f862a86f905f41f0e2c?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/clight"
},
"kqedarts": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "92",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "92",
"found": true
},
"name": "KQED Arts",
"firstName": "KQED",
"lastName": "Arts",
"slug": "kqedarts",
"email": "arts@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": "KQED Staff",
"bio": null,
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/321c9ebfeb7736f9e55366a6d3399ab0?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": "https://www.instagram.com/kqed_arts/",
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
},
{
"site": "pop",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
},
{
"site": "science",
"roles": [
"author"
]
},
{
"site": "food",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "KQED Arts | KQED",
"description": "KQED Staff",
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/321c9ebfeb7736f9e55366a6d3399ab0?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/321c9ebfeb7736f9e55366a6d3399ab0?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/kqedarts"
}
},
"pagesReducer": {
"arts_category_theater": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts_967",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "967",
"score": 12.282726
},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Theater",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Theater Archives | KQED Arts",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 985,
"slug": "theater",
"isLoading": false,
"title": "Theater",
"pageMeta": {
"site": "arts",
"WpPageTemplate": "page-topic-editorial",
"currentPage": 76
},
"blocks": [
{
"blockName": "kqed/post-list",
"attrs": {
"layout": "cardArticle2",
"query": "posts/arts?category=theater",
"seeMore": false,
"paginated": true,
"page": 76
}
},
{
"blockName": "kqed/ad"
}
]
}
},
"pfsSessionReducer": {},
"postsReducer": {
"stream_live": {
"type": "live",
"id": "stream_live",
"audioUrl": "https://streams.kqed.org/kqedradio",
"title": "Live Stream",
"excerpt": "Live Stream information currently unavailable.",
"link": "/radio",
"featImg": "",
"label": {
"name": "KQED Live",
"link": "/"
}
},
"stream_kqedNewscast": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "stream_kqedNewscast",
"audioUrl": "https://www.kqed.org/.stream/anon/radio/RDnews/newscast.mp3?_=1",
"title": "KQED Newscast",
"featImg": "",
"label": {
"name": "88.5 FM",
"link": "/"
}
},
"arts_25374": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_25374",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "25374",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1253331246000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1253331246,
"format": "standard",
"title": "American Idiot",
"headTitle": "American Idiot | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Do you have the time, to listen to me whine about \u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b>, now through November 1, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre? The cause of my alienation with this musical about the same is not so much the self-congratulatory hype that has surrounded the production, or the silliness of having the ushers offer theater-goers purple and orange earplugs before leading us to our seats — would that the music had been loud enough to actually require them. I can even get past the cell-phone-announcement guy artificially pumping up the audience by asking us if we were “ready to rock ‘n’ roll!” Please.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>No, the problem was that director Michael Mayer of \u003cb>Spring Awakening\u003c/b> fame has turned the biggest album of Green Day’s storied career into a poseur-punk version of \u003cb>Disney’s High School Musical\u003c/b>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In Green Day’s hands, \u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b>, the album, was a sometimes predictable bit of pop fluff that redeemed its clichéd lyrics and tired complaints about life in middle-class suburbia with great hooks, inspired musicianship, and expressive, snarling vocals. In Mayer’s hands, \u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b> is all gimmicks and big-time Broadway razzle-dazzle. What a bore.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It should have been obvious from the get go that the two forms would be incompatible. After all, Green Day’s music works best when it feels a little bit dangerous, when things seem on the verge of careening out of control. In contrast, a conductor kept the musicians at Berkeley Rep in tight check, guaranteeing that the Roda Theatre’s stage would remain a spontaneity-free zone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then there was the stock staging, which felt lifted from a dog-eared musical playbook. Need to turn a piece of scaffolding into a bus? Simply assemble the ensemble to tip the thing on its side as the lead actor, Tony-winner John Gallagher, Jr., rides it to the ground, Cirque du Soleil style. But don’t stop there: Make sure as many actors as possible jump up and down on the prop’s roof, and then get everybody to hang out of the windows at the same time, fists pumping in the air. Everything looks better when it’s done in unison, right? Got a scene that’s moving too slow? Hoist your actors into the air against a backdrop of posters and TV screens and ask them to sing their lines from on high. Why? Because you can.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The crowded dance numbers were another disappointment: Choreographer Steven Hoggett appears to have confused dance with aerobic workouts. And the transitions between the production’s song-and-dance numbers were positively terrible. In most cases, Gallagher addresses the crowd to deliver a series of very short (three sentences? four?), jokey monologues that usually begin with the words “Dear mom,” as in “Dear mom. I shot drugs for the first time today.” Shock me, shock me, shock me!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Oh right, the plot. Johnny has left home to get laid (Rebecca Naomi Jones is a sultry Whatsername) and learn how to shoot heroin (Tony Vincent is his demonic dealer, St. Jimmy). He accomplishes both, getting a good case of psychic desolation in the bargain, but he manages to avoid addiction (the moment when he dumped the last of his stash on the stage provoked scattered, earnest applause, presumably from the vegan parents in the audience). And then he goes home, where he feels alienated all over again until he’s saved by rock ‘n’ roll. Or something like that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Meanwhile, Johnny’s friend Will (Michael Esper) sticks it out in Tinsletown to hang with his preggers girlfriend, Heather (Mary Faber). Will basically spends the entire play sitting on a couch, watching TV and drinking beer. Naturally Heather leaves the lout and becomes a successful Material Girl. Johnny’s other friend Tunny (Matt Caplan) gets himself somewhat blown up in Iraq but falls in love with his nurse, The Extraordinary Girl (Christina Sajous). And that’s sort of it. I guess I’m glad someone (fictional or otherwise) has benefited from the war in Iraq, but it seems like an awfully steep price to pay for a mediocre plot point.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b> runs through November 1, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.berkeleyrep.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 741,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 11
},
"modified": 1705052493,
"excerpt": "Michael Mayer of \u003cb>Spring Awakening\u003c/b> fame has turned the biggest album of Green Day's storied career into a poseur-punk version of \u003cb>Disney's High School Musical\u003c/b>.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Michael Mayer of Spring Awakening fame has turned the biggest album of Green Day's storied career into a poseur-punk version of Disney's High School Musical.",
"title": "American Idiot | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "American Idiot",
"datePublished": "2009-09-18T20:34:06-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:41:33-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "american_idiot",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/25374/american_idiot",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Do you have the time, to listen to me whine about \u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b>, now through November 1, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre? The cause of my alienation with this musical about the same is not so much the self-congratulatory hype that has surrounded the production, or the silliness of having the ushers offer theater-goers purple and orange earplugs before leading us to our seats — would that the music had been loud enough to actually require them. I can even get past the cell-phone-announcement guy artificially pumping up the audience by asking us if we were “ready to rock ‘n’ roll!” Please.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>No, the problem was that director Michael Mayer of \u003cb>Spring Awakening\u003c/b> fame has turned the biggest album of Green Day’s storied career into a poseur-punk version of \u003cb>Disney’s High School Musical\u003c/b>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In Green Day’s hands, \u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b>, the album, was a sometimes predictable bit of pop fluff that redeemed its clichéd lyrics and tired complaints about life in middle-class suburbia with great hooks, inspired musicianship, and expressive, snarling vocals. In Mayer’s hands, \u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b> is all gimmicks and big-time Broadway razzle-dazzle. What a bore.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It should have been obvious from the get go that the two forms would be incompatible. After all, Green Day’s music works best when it feels a little bit dangerous, when things seem on the verge of careening out of control. In contrast, a conductor kept the musicians at Berkeley Rep in tight check, guaranteeing that the Roda Theatre’s stage would remain a spontaneity-free zone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then there was the stock staging, which felt lifted from a dog-eared musical playbook. Need to turn a piece of scaffolding into a bus? Simply assemble the ensemble to tip the thing on its side as the lead actor, Tony-winner John Gallagher, Jr., rides it to the ground, Cirque du Soleil style. But don’t stop there: Make sure as many actors as possible jump up and down on the prop’s roof, and then get everybody to hang out of the windows at the same time, fists pumping in the air. Everything looks better when it’s done in unison, right? Got a scene that’s moving too slow? Hoist your actors into the air against a backdrop of posters and TV screens and ask them to sing their lines from on high. Why? Because you can.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The crowded dance numbers were another disappointment: Choreographer Steven Hoggett appears to have confused dance with aerobic workouts. And the transitions between the production’s song-and-dance numbers were positively terrible. In most cases, Gallagher addresses the crowd to deliver a series of very short (three sentences? four?), jokey monologues that usually begin with the words “Dear mom,” as in “Dear mom. I shot drugs for the first time today.” Shock me, shock me, shock me!\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Oh right, the plot. Johnny has left home to get laid (Rebecca Naomi Jones is a sultry Whatsername) and learn how to shoot heroin (Tony Vincent is his demonic dealer, St. Jimmy). He accomplishes both, getting a good case of psychic desolation in the bargain, but he manages to avoid addiction (the moment when he dumped the last of his stash on the stage provoked scattered, earnest applause, presumably from the vegan parents in the audience). And then he goes home, where he feels alienated all over again until he’s saved by rock ‘n’ roll. Or something like that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Meanwhile, Johnny’s friend Will (Michael Esper) sticks it out in Tinsletown to hang with his preggers girlfriend, Heather (Mary Faber). Will basically spends the entire play sitting on a couch, watching TV and drinking beer. Naturally Heather leaves the lout and becomes a successful Material Girl. Johnny’s other friend Tunny (Matt Caplan) gets himself somewhat blown up in Iraq but falls in love with his nurse, The Extraordinary Girl (Christina Sajous). And that’s sort of it. I guess I’m glad someone (fictional or otherwise) has benefited from the war in Iraq, but it seems like an awfully steep price to pay for a mediocre plot point.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>American Idiot\u003c/b> runs through November 1, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.berkeleyrep.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/25374/american_idiot",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10025374",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_25174": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_25174",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "25174",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1250022522000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1250022522,
"format": "standard",
"title": "The Producers at Foothill Musical Theatre",
"headTitle": "The Producers at Foothill Musical Theatre | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Here’s the drill: A play hits it big on Broadway, runs practically forever, and then a couple of official touring companies are formed to send the blockbuster to the best houses in Big-City-Name-Goes-Here, U.S.A. Some years later, regional theaters are offered the opportunity to purchase rights to the production; a discrete period of time after that, the community theaters get their shot at the golden goose that’s guaranteed, as they say in the biz, to put fannies in seats.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Right now, \u003cb>The Producers\u003c/b> is on its grand tour of the provinces. In the spring of 2009, Diablo Theatre Company in Walnut Creek staged its version of the musical. This fall, South Bay Musical Theatre in Saratoga takes its turn. In between, through August 16, 2009, Foothill Musical Theatre in Los Altos Hills is having its way with the story of Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom, the crooked producers who do everything in their power to create a sure-fire flop, only to have it succeed beyond their wildest nightmares.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003ccenter>\u003cimg decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://a.s.kqed.net/img/arts/blog/producers-loot.jpg\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\">\u003c/center>\n\u003cp>Director Jay Manley does a great job with his cast of thousands, from the walker-clutching drill-team of little-old ladies to the choir of Whitehall & Marks accountants, with some Village People and a terrific fiddler (Kevin Stanford) thrown in for good measure. The set changes in Foothill College’s Smithwick Theatre are crisp and economical, disguised by the liberal use of scrim and song-and-dance numbers that finish up on the platform between the first row of seats and the orchestra pit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003ccenter>\u003cimg decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://a.s.kqed.net/img/arts/blog/producers-gay.jpg\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\">\u003c/center>\n\u003cp>For the most part, the supporting actors, the ensemble, and the production itself are the show’s strongest assets — I’m told the hilarious Bavaria-meets-Vegas showgirl costumes are previews of the upcoming production in Saratoga. As the flaming director Roger DeBris, Ray Joseph does a fine job on “Keep It Gay,” but he’s even better as the Fuhrer during the company’s rousing, tap-dancing rendition of “Springtime for Hitler.” Sean Patrick Murtagh is also good as DeBris’s sycophantic assistant Carmen Ghia, who just wants Roger to publically accept his love.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Another pair of actors whose performances are worth the price of admission are Ken Boswell as the play-within-the-musical’s Nazi author, Franz Liebkind, and Brittany Ogle, whose duties as a leggy Ulla include a reclining backflip off a table — in high heels.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003ccenter>\u003cimg decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://a.s.kqed.net/img/arts/blog/producers-ulla.jpg\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\">\u003c/center>\n\u003cp>That’s a good example of the high-spirited energy level given by the cast to its production. As Leo Bloom, Tim Reynolds drives himself every bit as hard. He sings his parts so well that during the courtroom scene, when Max remarks on the fine quality of his by-then former partner’s singing voice, I realized I had been thinking the exact same thing. But even though his character is written as a hysteric, it sometimes felt like Reynolds went to that corner of Bloom’s persona a bit too quickly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Least effective, but hardly irredeemable, is Gary DeMattei’s Max. He hits his marks, doesn’t shy away from the physical, and gives a performance that is happily loud and outlandish. But his Bialystock always seems to be looking ahead to the next crossover, the next gag, causing his timing to miss and his performance to feel oddly flat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Foothill Musical Theatre production of \u003cb>The Producers\u003c/b> runs through August 16, 2009 at the Smithwick Theatre at Foothill College in Los Altos Hills. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.foothillmusicals.com/\">more information\u003c/a>, visit foothillmusicals.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 607,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 13
},
"modified": 1705052550,
"excerpt": "Through August 16, 2009 Foothill Musical Theatre in Los Altos Hills is having its way with the story of Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom, the crooked producers who do everything in their power to create a sure-fire flop, only to have it succeed beyond their wildest nightmares.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Through August 16, 2009 Foothill Musical Theatre in Los Altos Hills is having its way with the story of Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom, the crooked producers who do everything in their power to create a sure-fire flop, only to have it succeed beyond their wildest nightmares.",
"title": "The Producers at Foothill Musical Theatre | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "The Producers at Foothill Musical Theatre",
"datePublished": "2009-08-11T13:28:42-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:42:30-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the_producers_at_foothill_musical_theatre",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/25174/the_producers_at_foothill_musical_theatre",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Here’s the drill: A play hits it big on Broadway, runs practically forever, and then a couple of official touring companies are formed to send the blockbuster to the best houses in Big-City-Name-Goes-Here, U.S.A. Some years later, regional theaters are offered the opportunity to purchase rights to the production; a discrete period of time after that, the community theaters get their shot at the golden goose that’s guaranteed, as they say in the biz, to put fannies in seats.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Right now, \u003cb>The Producers\u003c/b> is on its grand tour of the provinces. In the spring of 2009, Diablo Theatre Company in Walnut Creek staged its version of the musical. This fall, South Bay Musical Theatre in Saratoga takes its turn. In between, through August 16, 2009, Foothill Musical Theatre in Los Altos Hills is having its way with the story of Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom, the crooked producers who do everything in their power to create a sure-fire flop, only to have it succeed beyond their wildest nightmares.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003ccenter>\u003cimg decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://a.s.kqed.net/img/arts/blog/producers-loot.jpg\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\">\u003c/center>\n\u003cp>Director Jay Manley does a great job with his cast of thousands, from the walker-clutching drill-team of little-old ladies to the choir of Whitehall & Marks accountants, with some Village People and a terrific fiddler (Kevin Stanford) thrown in for good measure. The set changes in Foothill College’s Smithwick Theatre are crisp and economical, disguised by the liberal use of scrim and song-and-dance numbers that finish up on the platform between the first row of seats and the orchestra pit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003ccenter>\u003cimg decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://a.s.kqed.net/img/arts/blog/producers-gay.jpg\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\">\u003c/center>\n\u003cp>For the most part, the supporting actors, the ensemble, and the production itself are the show’s strongest assets — I’m told the hilarious Bavaria-meets-Vegas showgirl costumes are previews of the upcoming production in Saratoga. As the flaming director Roger DeBris, Ray Joseph does a fine job on “Keep It Gay,” but he’s even better as the Fuhrer during the company’s rousing, tap-dancing rendition of “Springtime for Hitler.” Sean Patrick Murtagh is also good as DeBris’s sycophantic assistant Carmen Ghia, who just wants Roger to publically accept his love.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Another pair of actors whose performances are worth the price of admission are Ken Boswell as the play-within-the-musical’s Nazi author, Franz Liebkind, and Brittany Ogle, whose duties as a leggy Ulla include a reclining backflip off a table — in high heels.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003ccenter>\u003cimg decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://a.s.kqed.net/img/arts/blog/producers-ulla.jpg\" style=\"margin-bottom: 10px;\">\u003c/center>\n\u003cp>That’s a good example of the high-spirited energy level given by the cast to its production. As Leo Bloom, Tim Reynolds drives himself every bit as hard. He sings his parts so well that during the courtroom scene, when Max remarks on the fine quality of his by-then former partner’s singing voice, I realized I had been thinking the exact same thing. But even though his character is written as a hysteric, it sometimes felt like Reynolds went to that corner of Bloom’s persona a bit too quickly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Least effective, but hardly irredeemable, is Gary DeMattei’s Max. He hits his marks, doesn’t shy away from the physical, and gives a performance that is happily loud and outlandish. But his Bialystock always seems to be looking ahead to the next crossover, the next gag, causing his timing to miss and his performance to feel oddly flat.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Foothill Musical Theatre production of \u003cb>The Producers\u003c/b> runs through August 16, 2009 at the Smithwick Theatre at Foothill College in Los Altos Hills. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.foothillmusicals.com/\">more information\u003c/a>, visit foothillmusicals.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/25174/the_producers_at_foothill_musical_theatre",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10025174",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_25093": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_25093",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "25093",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1248218767000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1248218767,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Tinyard Hill",
"headTitle": "Tinyard Hill | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>For the opening of its 40th season, TheatreWorks is presenting the world premiere of \u003cb>Tinyard Hill\u003c/b> at the Lucie Stern Theater in Palo Alto. Set in 1964 Georgia, the four-person musical spends a tumultuous summer with a father-and-son blacksmith team and their busybody next-door neighbor, whose niece is in town to be fitted for her wedding dress.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The dressmaking auntie, May Bell Whitehead (Allison Briner), knows everybody, everybody’s business, and bakes pie after irresistible pie. Her alcoholic husband, who spent years hounding her for kinky sex, has just walked out on their childless marriage. May Bell’s white-trash neighbor, Russell Kingsley (James Moye), is a gruff, no-nonsense widower of five years. He’s set in his old-school smithy ways, or so he’d have us believe. His handsome 18-year-old son, David (Chris Critelli) is a young man with big plans who’s frustrated working for his visionless dad. He’s ready for a change. And the blushing bride? Aileen Garrett (Melissa WolfKlain) is an attractive 18-year-old city girl from Manhattan. She’s engaged to a 30-year-old psychiatrist, but this summer in the country is causing her to reassess. What on earth has she gotten herself into?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Guess what happens when the two kids meet? If you said “they’ll despise each other at first, but only so the play can have an arc for the love story that follows,” you win a pair of tickets to the Dooley County Fair. Guess what happens to their elders and you win one of May Bell’s pies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The writers, Tommy Newman and Mark Allen, balance the Red State cliché characters and sappy lyrics (“a blacksmith’s work is never done,” the actors actually sing) with just enough Blue State twists to keep things palatable for liberal-leaning audiences. The music has that punchy Broadway sound, the performance by the live band is spirited and tight, and the voices, especially the men’s, are rich and strong.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But \u003cb>Tinyard Hill\u003c/b> seems a rather un-ambitious choice to kick off a season, especially when the musical is also being billed as the “centerpiece” of the peninsula company’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreworks.org/about/newworks/festivalevents.aspx\">8th Annual New Works Festival\u003c/a>. For the record, I had a great deal of sympathy for David’s situation — he’s like a few other draft-age males I knew during the Vietnam era who questioned the morality of not serving because you didn’t agree with the war or could somehow weasel your way out of it. But the ride to the play’s dénouement is sparing with the surprises, and by the second act, loose threads are tied up way too conveniently and hurriedly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>TheatreWorks’s production of \u003cb>Tinyard Hill\u003c/b> runs through August 16, 2009 at the Lucie Stern Theater in Palo Alto. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreworks.org/\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit theatreworks.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 509,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 8
},
"modified": 1705052578,
"excerpt": "Set in 1964 Georgia, the four-person musical spends a tumultuous summer with a father-and-son blacksmith team and their busybody next-door neighbor, whose niece is in town to be fitted for her wedding dress.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Set in 1964 Georgia, the four-person musical spends a tumultuous summer with a father-and-son blacksmith team and their busybody next-door neighbor, whose niece is in town to be fitted for her wedding dress.",
"title": "Tinyard Hill | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Tinyard Hill",
"datePublished": "2009-07-21T16:26:07-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:42:58-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "tinyard_hill",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/25093/tinyard_hill",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>For the opening of its 40th season, TheatreWorks is presenting the world premiere of \u003cb>Tinyard Hill\u003c/b> at the Lucie Stern Theater in Palo Alto. Set in 1964 Georgia, the four-person musical spends a tumultuous summer with a father-and-son blacksmith team and their busybody next-door neighbor, whose niece is in town to be fitted for her wedding dress.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The dressmaking auntie, May Bell Whitehead (Allison Briner), knows everybody, everybody’s business, and bakes pie after irresistible pie. Her alcoholic husband, who spent years hounding her for kinky sex, has just walked out on their childless marriage. May Bell’s white-trash neighbor, Russell Kingsley (James Moye), is a gruff, no-nonsense widower of five years. He’s set in his old-school smithy ways, or so he’d have us believe. His handsome 18-year-old son, David (Chris Critelli) is a young man with big plans who’s frustrated working for his visionless dad. He’s ready for a change. And the blushing bride? Aileen Garrett (Melissa WolfKlain) is an attractive 18-year-old city girl from Manhattan. She’s engaged to a 30-year-old psychiatrist, but this summer in the country is causing her to reassess. What on earth has she gotten herself into?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Guess what happens when the two kids meet? If you said “they’ll despise each other at first, but only so the play can have an arc for the love story that follows,” you win a pair of tickets to the Dooley County Fair. Guess what happens to their elders and you win one of May Bell’s pies.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The writers, Tommy Newman and Mark Allen, balance the Red State cliché characters and sappy lyrics (“a blacksmith’s work is never done,” the actors actually sing) with just enough Blue State twists to keep things palatable for liberal-leaning audiences. The music has that punchy Broadway sound, the performance by the live band is spirited and tight, and the voices, especially the men’s, are rich and strong.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But \u003cb>Tinyard Hill\u003c/b> seems a rather un-ambitious choice to kick off a season, especially when the musical is also being billed as the “centerpiece” of the peninsula company’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreworks.org/about/newworks/festivalevents.aspx\">8th Annual New Works Festival\u003c/a>. For the record, I had a great deal of sympathy for David’s situation — he’s like a few other draft-age males I knew during the Vietnam era who questioned the morality of not serving because you didn’t agree with the war or could somehow weasel your way out of it. But the ride to the play’s dénouement is sparing with the surprises, and by the second act, loose threads are tied up way too conveniently and hurriedly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>TheatreWorks’s production of \u003cb>Tinyard Hill\u003c/b> runs through August 16, 2009 at the Lucie Stern Theater in Palo Alto. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreworks.org/\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit theatreworks.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/25093/tinyard_hill",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_69",
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10025093",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24856": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24856",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24856",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1244751401000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1244751401,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Lips Together, Teeth Apart",
"headTitle": "Lips Together, Teeth Apart | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>In the new Theatre Q production of Terrence McNally’s \u003cb>Lips Together, Teeth Apart\u003c/b>, playing now through June 28, 2009 at Dragon Theatre in Palo Alto, two heterosexual couples are marooned for a lost 4th of July weekend on the gay enclave of Fire Island, circa 1991. Sally (Meredith Hagedorn) is a painter. She has inherited her dead brother David’s beach house and she’s not sure why. David has died of AIDS, and though the siblings were as close as a brother and sister can be at the end of either’s life, Sally had always been uncomfortable with her brother’s sexuality and circle. But here she is, standing before her easel, struggling, as she puts it, with “the arrogance of capturing the beauty of life with a few colors and a brush.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>How much easier it is for McNally to capture the despair and emptiness of contemporary relationships with just four characters and three acts. This is a melancholy play to be sure, but you have to appreciate the skill with which McNally has rendered his players and the economy of the snapshots he gives us of them. When we need to know what his characters are thinking, they simply tell us. Take Sally. From her we learn that she is a bundle of self-doubt and fear — for her failed pregnancies, for the fetus of uncertain future now growing inside her, for the well-being of a swimmer who had disrobed on the beach earlier that morning, given her a smile and a wave, and is now barely a speck on the horizon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sally’s sister-in-law, Chloe (Mary Lou Torre), is no less troubled by her lot in life, but she refuses to play the victim, choosing instead to mask her fears with lots of noise and hyperactivity. And yet, Chloe is a lot less facile than her behavior would suggest. As full of it as she is with her incessant hostess shtick and nonstop chatter littered with high-school French, Chloe is surprisingly clear-eyed about the limits of veracity. The truth, she tells us, is more trouble than it’s worth. This from a woman who thinks nothing of telling anyone who will listen about her sex life. Truth and candor, McNally seems to be saying, are not exactly the same thing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Chloe’s brother is Sally’s husband, Sam (Jeffrey Hoffman). He’s no day at the beach, either. Sam is a neurotic contractor, who may or may be not be doing well right now but is way too proud to admit anything that smells even vaguely of failure. He is also something of a crybaby, who suffers mightily when he gets a sliver in his toe, probably because he believes that this could be the open sore that will let the AIDS virus that’s swimming in David’s pool enter his bloodstream and kill him as dead as a Fire Island fairy. He and Sally are going through a “patch,” he tells us. They’ll get through it, he says, as much to convince himself as us, as long as there is no one else.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Which, of course, there is. Only one character left, so it must be Chloe’s husband, John (Dale Albright), who hides behind his crossword puzzle, searching for the right words to fill into his little boxes while Sally ruminates on the meaning of the word “diminished.” How did Sally find herself in a marriage with her lovable oaf of a husband? Why did she and John have a fling? And will it make any difference to her to learn that John’s got the big C? Carefully, McNally answers only the questions he believes he must.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Adding to the sense of emotional claustrophobia is the handsome set by Ron Garparinetti. Under the direction of Rebecca Longworth, the actors frequently walk to the edges of the set and stage, as if to accentuate the sense of being hemmed in by their gay neighbors whose decks loom above Sally and company, and for whom this fishbowl exhibition of upper-middle-class hell must be riveting. We may never know why David left his house to his sister, but we certainly know why McNally set his drama there: so the straights can play the aberrants for a change.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If some of the aspects of \u003cb>Lips Together, Teeth Apart\u003c/b> feel dated in 2009, what remains true are McNally’s observations of the distances that exist between alleged intimates. The couples — be they brother and sister, husbands and wives, or one-time lovers — are at once connected to and alienated from each other. They are only truly adept at confessing their deepest secrets to the people who matter the least (the audience, a sexual partner who promises no future), but when it comes to speaking the truth to the ones they purport to love, McNally’s couples are largely mute. Glib Chloe may have gotten it right after all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Lips Together, Teeth Apart\u003c/b> runs through June 28, 2009 at Dragon Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreq.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit theatreq.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 878,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 10
},
"modified": 1705052644,
"excerpt": "In the new Theatre Q production of Terrence McNally's \u003cb>Lips Together, Teeth Apart\u003c/b>, playing now through June 28, 2009 at Dragon Theatre in Palo Alto, two heterosexual couples are marooned for a lost 4th of July weekend on the gay enclave of Fire Island, circa 1991.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "In the new Theatre Q production of Terrence McNally's Lips Together, Teeth Apart, playing now through June 28, 2009 at Dragon Theatre in Palo Alto, two heterosexual couples are marooned for a lost 4th of July weekend on the gay enclave of Fire Island, circa 1991.",
"title": "Lips Together, Teeth Apart | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Lips Together, Teeth Apart",
"datePublished": "2009-06-11T13:16:41-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:44:04-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "lips_together_teeth_apart",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24856/lips_together_teeth_apart",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>In the new Theatre Q production of Terrence McNally’s \u003cb>Lips Together, Teeth Apart\u003c/b>, playing now through June 28, 2009 at Dragon Theatre in Palo Alto, two heterosexual couples are marooned for a lost 4th of July weekend on the gay enclave of Fire Island, circa 1991. Sally (Meredith Hagedorn) is a painter. She has inherited her dead brother David’s beach house and she’s not sure why. David has died of AIDS, and though the siblings were as close as a brother and sister can be at the end of either’s life, Sally had always been uncomfortable with her brother’s sexuality and circle. But here she is, standing before her easel, struggling, as she puts it, with “the arrogance of capturing the beauty of life with a few colors and a brush.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>How much easier it is for McNally to capture the despair and emptiness of contemporary relationships with just four characters and three acts. This is a melancholy play to be sure, but you have to appreciate the skill with which McNally has rendered his players and the economy of the snapshots he gives us of them. When we need to know what his characters are thinking, they simply tell us. Take Sally. From her we learn that she is a bundle of self-doubt and fear — for her failed pregnancies, for the fetus of uncertain future now growing inside her, for the well-being of a swimmer who had disrobed on the beach earlier that morning, given her a smile and a wave, and is now barely a speck on the horizon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sally’s sister-in-law, Chloe (Mary Lou Torre), is no less troubled by her lot in life, but she refuses to play the victim, choosing instead to mask her fears with lots of noise and hyperactivity. And yet, Chloe is a lot less facile than her behavior would suggest. As full of it as she is with her incessant hostess shtick and nonstop chatter littered with high-school French, Chloe is surprisingly clear-eyed about the limits of veracity. The truth, she tells us, is more trouble than it’s worth. This from a woman who thinks nothing of telling anyone who will listen about her sex life. Truth and candor, McNally seems to be saying, are not exactly the same thing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Chloe’s brother is Sally’s husband, Sam (Jeffrey Hoffman). He’s no day at the beach, either. Sam is a neurotic contractor, who may or may be not be doing well right now but is way too proud to admit anything that smells even vaguely of failure. He is also something of a crybaby, who suffers mightily when he gets a sliver in his toe, probably because he believes that this could be the open sore that will let the AIDS virus that’s swimming in David’s pool enter his bloodstream and kill him as dead as a Fire Island fairy. He and Sally are going through a “patch,” he tells us. They’ll get through it, he says, as much to convince himself as us, as long as there is no one else.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Which, of course, there is. Only one character left, so it must be Chloe’s husband, John (Dale Albright), who hides behind his crossword puzzle, searching for the right words to fill into his little boxes while Sally ruminates on the meaning of the word “diminished.” How did Sally find herself in a marriage with her lovable oaf of a husband? Why did she and John have a fling? And will it make any difference to her to learn that John’s got the big C? Carefully, McNally answers only the questions he believes he must.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Adding to the sense of emotional claustrophobia is the handsome set by Ron Garparinetti. Under the direction of Rebecca Longworth, the actors frequently walk to the edges of the set and stage, as if to accentuate the sense of being hemmed in by their gay neighbors whose decks loom above Sally and company, and for whom this fishbowl exhibition of upper-middle-class hell must be riveting. We may never know why David left his house to his sister, but we certainly know why McNally set his drama there: so the straights can play the aberrants for a change.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If some of the aspects of \u003cb>Lips Together, Teeth Apart\u003c/b> feel dated in 2009, what remains true are McNally’s observations of the distances that exist between alleged intimates. The couples — be they brother and sister, husbands and wives, or one-time lovers — are at once connected to and alienated from each other. They are only truly adept at confessing their deepest secrets to the people who matter the least (the audience, a sexual partner who promises no future), but when it comes to speaking the truth to the ones they purport to love, McNally’s couples are largely mute. Glib Chloe may have gotten it right after all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Lips Together, Teeth Apart\u003c/b> runs through June 28, 2009 at Dragon Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreq.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit theatreq.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24856/lips_together_teeth_apart",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024856",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24805": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24805",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24805",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1243649076000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1243649076,
"format": "standard",
"title": "You, Nero",
"headTitle": "You, Nero | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Amy Freed’s \u003cb>You, Nero\u003c/b>, now through June 28, 2008 at Berkeley Rep, is the best screwball comedy about the Roman Empire to hit the boards since \u003cb>A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum\u003c/b>. This is no historical drama, infused with equal parts magic and poetry, of the Mary Zimmerman variety. Rather, it is shtick, shtick and more shtick — The Borscht Belt in Berkeley! — with forbidden love, ill-considered lust, and plenty of good-old showbiz razzle-dazzle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Danny Scheie’s performance alone makes the play worth seeing. His Nero is a wisecracking, spoiled child who gets everything he wants, no matter how barbaric or icky. Naturally the people of Rome hate him, so Nero summons an excessively earnest dramatist named Scribonius (Jeff McCarthy) to write a play that will make him more appealing to the masses. Scribonius, who apologizes to the audience early in his narration duties for stooping to the lazy convention of direct address, hates everything Nero stands for, but he hasn’t had a hit in years so he takes the gig. Besides, the penalty for not doing so is death.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Truth told, Scribonius has never connected with his audience in his entire pathetic career. Despite his poor track record, or maybe because of it, Scribonius seizes on the Nero commission as his big chance to redeem himself. He will write a script of such power and persuasion that it will cause the great Nero himself to reconsider his wicked and corrosive ways and awaken his dormant sense of civic duty, thus saving the Roman Empire from certain doom and changing the course of history. All because of a work of art.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These wooly-headed artists and their high-minded conceits, we think, and that’s what we should still be thinking when we leave the theater. Unfortunately, very late in the game, Freed channels Scribonius and goes all sanctimonious on us, all but blaming the problems of contemporary society on the demise of serious theater and the ascendency of opiates like \u003cb>American Idol\u003c/b>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Yawn. Let’s get back to that glorious catastrophe known as Nero, whom Scheie plays as an inveterate manipulator, with all the impulse control and empathy of a basket full of agitated cobras. Freed is on solid terrain here, giving Scheie authentically insincere Hollywood-insider dialogue that would seem perfectly normal coming out of the mouths of the guys on \u003cb>Entourage\u003c/b> but is delightfully incongruous when uttered by Nero clad in little more than a pair of leopard-print briefs and sandals.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scheie sells his monster hard, and against our better judgment we love Nero for it. So when he flees his mother, Agrippina’s, approach, we expect to encounter a character who will be every bit his match. As Agrippina, Lori Larson, decked out in bright purple and flanked by a pair of snarling tigers, makes a promising entrance. Unfortunately, there’s more apprehension than malice behind her eyes, as if she were not entirely comfortable being as malevolent and wretched as Scheie is duplicitous and ruthless. It’s a high bar, but Freed has put it there.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nero is also a tough act to follow for Susannah Schulman as Poppaea, who, like Agrippina, wants Scribonius to write her into Nero’s \u003ci>fabula praetexta\u003c/i> in order to further her position in court. Indeed, everyone wants a piece of Scribonius now that he’s gotten the creative green light from Nero. Even Nero’s trusted advisors, Burrus (Mike McShane) and Seneca (Richard Doyle), want to pull Scribonius’s strings. All of which gives the hapless Scribonius the fanciful notion that he can make a difference. What fools these dramatists be.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Fools, it turns out, are some of the best things about \u003cb>You, Nero\u003c/b>. McShane and Doyle are marvelous together as Burrus and Seneca, and even better as the eunuchs Beppo and Zippo, with McShane’s Beppo stealing numerous scenes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Kasey Mahaffey as Fabiolo and Young Nero is also great fun to watch. His scene with Agrippina as Scribonius is writing the story of young Nero is particularly effective. In fact, all three actors work well together during that scene, which seamlessly transitions from Scribonius’s imagination to a live preview for Nero, who sits rapt on his fainting couch. “Oh I feel so understood!” gushes the ruler as he watches his life played out before him. Well how about that: Nero is not a monster at all but a misunderstood victim of a traumatic childhood. “Just one little cut,” he adds softly. Uh oh. Coming from a man who thinks nothing of turning a Fabiolo into a Fabiola, this can’t be good.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>You, Nero\u003c/b> runs through June 28, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.berkeleyrep.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 815,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 12
},
"modified": 1705052655,
"excerpt": "Amy Freed's \u003cb>You, Nero\u003c/b>, now through June 28, 2008 at Berkeley Rep, is the best screwball comedy about the Roman Empire to hit the boards since \u003cb>A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum\u003c/b>.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Amy Freed's You, Nero, now through June 28, 2008 at Berkeley Rep, is the best screwball comedy about the Roman Empire to hit the boards since A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.",
"title": "You, Nero | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "You, Nero",
"datePublished": "2009-05-29T19:04:36-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:44:15-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "you_nero",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24805/you_nero",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Amy Freed’s \u003cb>You, Nero\u003c/b>, now through June 28, 2008 at Berkeley Rep, is the best screwball comedy about the Roman Empire to hit the boards since \u003cb>A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum\u003c/b>. This is no historical drama, infused with equal parts magic and poetry, of the Mary Zimmerman variety. Rather, it is shtick, shtick and more shtick — The Borscht Belt in Berkeley! — with forbidden love, ill-considered lust, and plenty of good-old showbiz razzle-dazzle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Danny Scheie’s performance alone makes the play worth seeing. His Nero is a wisecracking, spoiled child who gets everything he wants, no matter how barbaric or icky. Naturally the people of Rome hate him, so Nero summons an excessively earnest dramatist named Scribonius (Jeff McCarthy) to write a play that will make him more appealing to the masses. Scribonius, who apologizes to the audience early in his narration duties for stooping to the lazy convention of direct address, hates everything Nero stands for, but he hasn’t had a hit in years so he takes the gig. Besides, the penalty for not doing so is death.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Truth told, Scribonius has never connected with his audience in his entire pathetic career. Despite his poor track record, or maybe because of it, Scribonius seizes on the Nero commission as his big chance to redeem himself. He will write a script of such power and persuasion that it will cause the great Nero himself to reconsider his wicked and corrosive ways and awaken his dormant sense of civic duty, thus saving the Roman Empire from certain doom and changing the course of history. All because of a work of art.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These wooly-headed artists and their high-minded conceits, we think, and that’s what we should still be thinking when we leave the theater. Unfortunately, very late in the game, Freed channels Scribonius and goes all sanctimonious on us, all but blaming the problems of contemporary society on the demise of serious theater and the ascendency of opiates like \u003cb>American Idol\u003c/b>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Yawn. Let’s get back to that glorious catastrophe known as Nero, whom Scheie plays as an inveterate manipulator, with all the impulse control and empathy of a basket full of agitated cobras. Freed is on solid terrain here, giving Scheie authentically insincere Hollywood-insider dialogue that would seem perfectly normal coming out of the mouths of the guys on \u003cb>Entourage\u003c/b> but is delightfully incongruous when uttered by Nero clad in little more than a pair of leopard-print briefs and sandals.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Scheie sells his monster hard, and against our better judgment we love Nero for it. So when he flees his mother, Agrippina’s, approach, we expect to encounter a character who will be every bit his match. As Agrippina, Lori Larson, decked out in bright purple and flanked by a pair of snarling tigers, makes a promising entrance. Unfortunately, there’s more apprehension than malice behind her eyes, as if she were not entirely comfortable being as malevolent and wretched as Scheie is duplicitous and ruthless. It’s a high bar, but Freed has put it there.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nero is also a tough act to follow for Susannah Schulman as Poppaea, who, like Agrippina, wants Scribonius to write her into Nero’s \u003ci>fabula praetexta\u003c/i> in order to further her position in court. Indeed, everyone wants a piece of Scribonius now that he’s gotten the creative green light from Nero. Even Nero’s trusted advisors, Burrus (Mike McShane) and Seneca (Richard Doyle), want to pull Scribonius’s strings. All of which gives the hapless Scribonius the fanciful notion that he can make a difference. What fools these dramatists be.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Fools, it turns out, are some of the best things about \u003cb>You, Nero\u003c/b>. McShane and Doyle are marvelous together as Burrus and Seneca, and even better as the eunuchs Beppo and Zippo, with McShane’s Beppo stealing numerous scenes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Kasey Mahaffey as Fabiolo and Young Nero is also great fun to watch. His scene with Agrippina as Scribonius is writing the story of young Nero is particularly effective. In fact, all three actors work well together during that scene, which seamlessly transitions from Scribonius’s imagination to a live preview for Nero, who sits rapt on his fainting couch. “Oh I feel so understood!” gushes the ruler as he watches his life played out before him. Well how about that: Nero is not a monster at all but a misunderstood victim of a traumatic childhood. “Just one little cut,” he adds softly. Uh oh. Coming from a man who thinks nothing of turning a Fabiolo into a Fabiola, this can’t be good.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>You, Nero\u003c/b> runs through June 28, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.berkeleyrep.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24805/you_nero",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024805",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24757": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24757",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24757",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1243562474000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1243562474,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Fukú Adaptationus: Campo Santo Acts Out Oscar Wao",
"headTitle": "Fukú Adaptationus: Campo Santo Acts Out Oscar Wao | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Yes, novel adaptations are cursed, and \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> is no exception. Adapted by Sean San Jose from Junot Diaz’s Pulitzer-winning novel \u003cb>The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao\u003c/b>, and staged by Campo Santo at Intersection for the Arts, the play is a mess — a lovely, frustrating mess, that translated the excitement of the book, but fumbled the storytelling.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> thrilled American readers when it appeared in 2007 on the heels of a century of endless repetitions of the same immigrant narrative. The book was recognizably an immigrant story, yet it turned the tropes on their ears. Far from pandering to a non-Spanish-speaking readership expecting its exotica to be translated, \u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> spoke the college-educated, ghetto-inflected Spang-nerd-glish its macho, comic-book-reading Dominican narrator spoke. Its metaphors came from Tolkien and The Silver Surfer. Its plot didn’t follow the arc-de-triomphe of the traditional immigrant tale, but rather the melodramatic twists of a generation-spanning curse.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> knew what it was about, what story it was trying to tell, and how it was trying to tell it; \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> can make no such claims. What is, in the novel, a tour-de-force braiding together of 20th century Dominican history, Caribbean/US immigration issues, three-generations of familial tragicomedy, and revenge-of-the-nerd story, becomes, in the play, messy, incongruous, and incomplete … but also funny, exciting, culturally canny, and completely in love with its characters. The play extinguishes the brilliance of the novel — its powerful balancing act — but manifests, even heightens, the novel’s human appeal, its abundant energy and humor, its hybrid language, and its loveable characters.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Co-directors Sean San Jose and Marc Bamuthi Joseph embody the book with an ambitious physicality: a combination of comic book tableaux, telenovela melodramatics, and chaotic modern dance. A wall painted in a grid of red and blue squares creates comic book panels against which the actors freeze in place to deliver monologues and adversarial dialogues. Several platforms move easily, stack up, or bridge one another to force and facilitate the actors in motion; when not trapped in the panel of a comic or the frame of a television set, the characters spin in a whirlwind of motion and rapid-fire happenstance. Simple costumes in black and primary or neon colors do triple duty as superhero disguises, character gestures, and period costume.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The staging doesn’t always land squarely. There are times, especially during the first twenty minutes or so, when the piece isn’t so much a depiction of chaos as it is chaotic itself; times when the melodrama isn’t so much a knowing commentary as it is … just loud. But these are the consequences when you take big, ambitious risks, and the mere presence of artistic ambition onstage is gratifying. It is all the more so since the risk mostly pays off. Giving talented performers layered, complex, and meaty roles is a good strategy; without exception, the performers meet every shift in tactic and texture with energy and power.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But San Jose’s exceedingly problematic adaptation is the play’s downfall. Sadly, an inspired production can’t save a faltering script. There are multiple problems: the playwright’s inability to locate the play’s central story arc, among the many arcs of the novel; a basic misunderstanding of what a narrator is versus what a chorus is; how to select a protagonist, or balance the weight of the story among more than one protagonist; the various ways to satisfy the expectations your storytelling arouses in your audience; and how to end the story you’ve chosen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In \u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> every member of the accursed family experiences a manifestation of the Fukú in their lives. But most survive the encounter by a partially supernatural grace that preserves the bloodline for further torment. The Fukú reaches apotheosis in the death of Oscar Wao, the moment toward which all the struggle and flight tends, when the curse is finally purged. All this is clearly too much for a two-and-a-half-hour play, and the playwright would have been wise to cut out much of the incident, and perhaps even some characters. Instead, San Jose cuts out some of the main action of the book, while leaving in a myriad unimportant details in the name of conveying the book’s flavor, not trusting to the often spectacular staging to do that job. The first half-hour of the piece is wasted in this manner: a twister of opinions, ideas, and explanations; telling, not showing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Worse, instead of cutting and combining characters, San Jose adds at least one: the embodiment of the Fukú, who supposedly serves as narrator. And he’s not the only one. Minor characters are kept in so as to serve double duty as character and chorus. And a major character that could have been cut — Yunior, the book’s main narrator — isn’t even introduced until the second act, where he proceeds to muddy, but not resolve, the story.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But most unforgivable of all is the play’s utter failure to provide an ending. It is not merely Oscar’s death that has gone AWOL. The endings to all the stories, all the individual arcs introduced, are missing. The family’s run-in with Trujillo, which brings on the curse, is disappeared. The mother’s failed love affair, that inspired her migration, is barely sketched. Lola’s relationship with Yunior is left hanging. Oscar’s coming-of-age moment never comes. In changing the title to \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> and making that concept a character, the play has highlighted the curse as the central theme and issue of the play. As we all know, curse stories end in one of two ways: the triumph of the curse, or the breaking of the curse. Neither happens here.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Perhaps the heart of the problem is the co-directors’ inability to commit to the unattractiveness of Oscar Wao, and by extension, of the entire premise and story. It might be simplistic of me, but I find that our California laid-backness often comes with an inability to reveal, much less jeer at, our own dark side. The literary Oscar finds redemption in our eyes by committing to his own nerdosity so completely that he dies horribly for it. The vibrant and energetic Left Coast \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> understands dictatorship, immigration, and punk-rock rebellion only too well. What we don’t do well is embrace our own absurdity. As Yunior (and the Fukú) tell us repeatedly, “the only way out, is in.” Ultimately, the play didn’t follow its own directive.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> runs at Intersection for the Arts through June 21, 2009. For \u003ca href=\"http://theintersection.org/calendar/program_theatre.php\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theintersection.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 1176,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 13
},
"modified": 1705052665,
"excerpt": "\u003cb>The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao\u003c/b> knew what it was about, what story it was trying to tell, and how it was trying to tell it; its adaptation, \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> can make no such claims.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao knew what it was about, what story it was trying to tell, and how it was trying to tell it; its adaptation, Fukú Americanus can make no such claims.",
"title": "Fukú Adaptationus: Campo Santo Acts Out Oscar Wao | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Fukú Adaptationus: Campo Santo Acts Out Oscar Wao",
"datePublished": "2009-05-28T19:01:14-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:44:25-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "fukuacute_adaptationus_campo_santo_acts_out_oscar_wao",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24757/fukuacute_adaptationus_campo_santo_acts_out_oscar_wao",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Yes, novel adaptations are cursed, and \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> is no exception. Adapted by Sean San Jose from Junot Diaz’s Pulitzer-winning novel \u003cb>The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao\u003c/b>, and staged by Campo Santo at Intersection for the Arts, the play is a mess — a lovely, frustrating mess, that translated the excitement of the book, but fumbled the storytelling.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> thrilled American readers when it appeared in 2007 on the heels of a century of endless repetitions of the same immigrant narrative. The book was recognizably an immigrant story, yet it turned the tropes on their ears. Far from pandering to a non-Spanish-speaking readership expecting its exotica to be translated, \u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> spoke the college-educated, ghetto-inflected Spang-nerd-glish its macho, comic-book-reading Dominican narrator spoke. Its metaphors came from Tolkien and The Silver Surfer. Its plot didn’t follow the arc-de-triomphe of the traditional immigrant tale, but rather the melodramatic twists of a generation-spanning curse.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> knew what it was about, what story it was trying to tell, and how it was trying to tell it; \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> can make no such claims. What is, in the novel, a tour-de-force braiding together of 20th century Dominican history, Caribbean/US immigration issues, three-generations of familial tragicomedy, and revenge-of-the-nerd story, becomes, in the play, messy, incongruous, and incomplete … but also funny, exciting, culturally canny, and completely in love with its characters. The play extinguishes the brilliance of the novel — its powerful balancing act — but manifests, even heightens, the novel’s human appeal, its abundant energy and humor, its hybrid language, and its loveable characters.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Co-directors Sean San Jose and Marc Bamuthi Joseph embody the book with an ambitious physicality: a combination of comic book tableaux, telenovela melodramatics, and chaotic modern dance. A wall painted in a grid of red and blue squares creates comic book panels against which the actors freeze in place to deliver monologues and adversarial dialogues. Several platforms move easily, stack up, or bridge one another to force and facilitate the actors in motion; when not trapped in the panel of a comic or the frame of a television set, the characters spin in a whirlwind of motion and rapid-fire happenstance. Simple costumes in black and primary or neon colors do triple duty as superhero disguises, character gestures, and period costume.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The staging doesn’t always land squarely. There are times, especially during the first twenty minutes or so, when the piece isn’t so much a depiction of chaos as it is chaotic itself; times when the melodrama isn’t so much a knowing commentary as it is … just loud. But these are the consequences when you take big, ambitious risks, and the mere presence of artistic ambition onstage is gratifying. It is all the more so since the risk mostly pays off. Giving talented performers layered, complex, and meaty roles is a good strategy; without exception, the performers meet every shift in tactic and texture with energy and power.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But San Jose’s exceedingly problematic adaptation is the play’s downfall. Sadly, an inspired production can’t save a faltering script. There are multiple problems: the playwright’s inability to locate the play’s central story arc, among the many arcs of the novel; a basic misunderstanding of what a narrator is versus what a chorus is; how to select a protagonist, or balance the weight of the story among more than one protagonist; the various ways to satisfy the expectations your storytelling arouses in your audience; and how to end the story you’ve chosen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In \u003cb>Oscar Wao\u003c/b> every member of the accursed family experiences a manifestation of the Fukú in their lives. But most survive the encounter by a partially supernatural grace that preserves the bloodline for further torment. The Fukú reaches apotheosis in the death of Oscar Wao, the moment toward which all the struggle and flight tends, when the curse is finally purged. All this is clearly too much for a two-and-a-half-hour play, and the playwright would have been wise to cut out much of the incident, and perhaps even some characters. Instead, San Jose cuts out some of the main action of the book, while leaving in a myriad unimportant details in the name of conveying the book’s flavor, not trusting to the often spectacular staging to do that job. The first half-hour of the piece is wasted in this manner: a twister of opinions, ideas, and explanations; telling, not showing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Worse, instead of cutting and combining characters, San Jose adds at least one: the embodiment of the Fukú, who supposedly serves as narrator. And he’s not the only one. Minor characters are kept in so as to serve double duty as character and chorus. And a major character that could have been cut — Yunior, the book’s main narrator — isn’t even introduced until the second act, where he proceeds to muddy, but not resolve, the story.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But most unforgivable of all is the play’s utter failure to provide an ending. It is not merely Oscar’s death that has gone AWOL. The endings to all the stories, all the individual arcs introduced, are missing. The family’s run-in with Trujillo, which brings on the curse, is disappeared. The mother’s failed love affair, that inspired her migration, is barely sketched. Lola’s relationship with Yunior is left hanging. Oscar’s coming-of-age moment never comes. In changing the title to \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> and making that concept a character, the play has highlighted the curse as the central theme and issue of the play. As we all know, curse stories end in one of two ways: the triumph of the curse, or the breaking of the curse. Neither happens here.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Perhaps the heart of the problem is the co-directors’ inability to commit to the unattractiveness of Oscar Wao, and by extension, of the entire premise and story. It might be simplistic of me, but I find that our California laid-backness often comes with an inability to reveal, much less jeer at, our own dark side. The literary Oscar finds redemption in our eyes by committing to his own nerdosity so completely that he dies horribly for it. The vibrant and energetic Left Coast \u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> understands dictatorship, immigration, and punk-rock rebellion only too well. What we don’t do well is embrace our own absurdity. As Yunior (and the Fukú) tell us repeatedly, “the only way out, is in.” Ultimately, the play didn’t follow its own directive.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Fukú Americanus\u003c/b> runs at Intersection for the Arts through June 21, 2009. For \u003ca href=\"http://theintersection.org/calendar/program_theatre.php\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theintersection.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24757/fukuacute_adaptationus_campo_santo_acts_out_oscar_wao",
"authors": [
"30"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024757",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24613": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24613",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24613",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1242170098000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1242170098,
"format": "standard",
"title": "The Way of the World",
"headTitle": "The Way of the World | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>William Congreve’s \u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> is a convoluted comedy revolving around the breeding habits of a small group of 18th-century rich people, who navigate the manners and social protocols of the day to win the hands of their true loves when they aren’t trying to steal the fortune of a wealthy aunt. There’s a more detailed, spoiler-laden synopsis in the program, as well as a family tree, but that’s all you really need to know. Even without the synopsis, it’s obvious the lovers will get together in the end and the aunt’s riches will be kept from the conniving clutches of Congreve’s unscrupulous villains. No doubt in 1700 the peculiarities of the plot and the myriad allusions to the politics of the day must have resonated with Restoration audiences. In 2009, we must content ourselves with Congreve’s marvelously witty prose and the uniformly excellent performances by a cast that throws itself into the production with ambition and abandon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> is going to be a long (three hours, including a pair of 10-minute intermissions), brash and noisy farce regardless of who’s at the helm. In the hands of Rebecca J. Ennals, it is a particularly rollicking and randy affair. Breasts overflow their cinched bodices, men prance like peacocks or stagger drunkenly about, servants pulls strings behind the scene for their masters, couples cannot keep their hands off each other. It’s great fun, a lot of laughs and thanks to the fast pace and terrific acting, the hours fly by.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play actually begins rather unpromisingly with a gimmicky prologue that Ennals has rewritten to draw parallels between Congreve’s money-grabbing wretches and the celebrity-obsessed, paparazzi culture of today. Clad in deliberately dissonant costumes, whose flourishes swing wildly from historical to contemporary, the company raps their lines as they pretend to read from tabloids — the headlines have been reworked with the names of the characters we will soon meet but don’t yet know. There is, I’m sure, a connection between Congreve’s players and Brangelina, but I found this linkage between events three centuries apart to be a bit of a stretch.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It does not help Ennals’s case that the first scene between Fainall (Alex Kirschner) and Mirabell (Joseph Salazar) conversing in a chocolate shop drops the Restoration-celebrity connection entirely. Instead, we get a blizzard of words. Beautiful words, beautifully spoken, to be sure, but I had a difficult time following the anecdotes these two men were sharing as my ear adjusted to the vernacular, the rhythms of Congreve and the odd, similar-sounding names of his characters. As near as I could tell, Fainall, a cad, is married to a woman he does not love. Mirabell, not a cad, longs for the hand of a woman whose wealthy aunt he has offended, thus dooming his chances. We listen closely, straining to follow the plot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Anticipating this early challenge for her audiences, Ennals has the rest of the cast pose behind a scrim to create tableau versions of the action the two men are describing. The goal is to better familiarize the audience with the characters and the play’s copious backstory. It mostly works.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We don’t need the device for long, and it is discarded entirely when Tony Witwoud (Ray Renati) flounces into view clad in a green coat, purple shoes, turquoise corset and enough makeup to make Emmett Kelly himself blush. He is, in short, a lavish clown, and he successfully upends the polite conversation between the two men with enough non sequiturs and nonsense to bring the play fully to life. From there it’s pretty much a sprint to the finish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Along the way we encounter a slew of quirky characters and fine performances. Witwoud is joined by his friend and drinking buddy Petulant (Jim Johnson), who is a vision in orange and has the droll delivery and comic timing of Bob Elliott. The two men are a great pair.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The women of \u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> are given their opportunity to shine in the second scene, which in this version of the play is set in a clothing store rather than St. James’s Park as in the original. It’s a clever updating, giving Mrs. Fainall (Shannon Warrick) and Mrs. Marwood (Carla Pantoja) a chance to establish their lopsided relationship (Marwood is desired by Mrs. Fainall’s faithless husband) while musing on their shared problem: men. When we eventually meet Mrs. Millamant (Rami Margron), we learn that she, too, has her problems with men, but for her the trouble is reconciling her love for Mirabell with her equally fierce desire to remain an independent woman in 18th-century England where marriage reduces her to a mere possession.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One of the best aspects of this production are the performances of the ostensibly secondary players. Roberta Morris throws herself into the role of Lady Wishfort, the aforementioned wealthy aunt. Annamarie MacLeod dazzles as the lady’s maid, Foible, who is married to Mirabell’s valet, Waitwell (William J. Brown III). For his part, Waitwell has agreed to his master’s plot to woo Lady Wishfort in disguise as Sir Rowland because… oh never mind, it’s too complicated. Also great is Paul Loomis, whose drunken country bumpkin Sir Wilfull Witwoud is flat-out hilarious.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Similarly, many of the principles excel in their brief, second roles as servants of various sorts. These include Shannon Warrick, who makes us forget all about Mrs. Fainall for a few moments when she steals her scene with Sir Wilfull as a dull-witted footman. Jim Johnson bookends his Petulant with a turn as Peg, a painfully slow-moving servant who’s seemingly deaf to the insults of his fulminating mistress, Lady Wishfort. And Paul Loomis and William J. Brown III don women’s clothing, but do little else to disguise their gender, as Betty, the proprietress of the chocolate house, and Mincing, a maid to Mrs. Millamant, respectively. In the end, this supportive, ensemble spirit of the cast captivates us far more than the tenuous connections between Congreve’s England and present-day America. Not to give away the ending, but that is more than enough.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> runs through May 31, 2009 at Pear Avenue Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.thepear.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit thepear.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 1105,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 13
},
"modified": 1705052687,
"excerpt": "Breasts overflow their cinched bodices, men prance like peacocks or stagger drunkenly about, servants pulls strings behind the scene for their masters, couples cannot keep their hands off each other.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Breasts overflow their cinched bodices, men prance like peacocks or stagger drunkenly about, servants pulls strings behind the scene for their masters, couples cannot keep their hands off each other.",
"title": "The Way of the World | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "The Way of the World",
"datePublished": "2009-05-12T16:14:58-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:44:47-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the_way_of_the_world",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24613/the_way_of_the_world",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>William Congreve’s \u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> is a convoluted comedy revolving around the breeding habits of a small group of 18th-century rich people, who navigate the manners and social protocols of the day to win the hands of their true loves when they aren’t trying to steal the fortune of a wealthy aunt. There’s a more detailed, spoiler-laden synopsis in the program, as well as a family tree, but that’s all you really need to know. Even without the synopsis, it’s obvious the lovers will get together in the end and the aunt’s riches will be kept from the conniving clutches of Congreve’s unscrupulous villains. No doubt in 1700 the peculiarities of the plot and the myriad allusions to the politics of the day must have resonated with Restoration audiences. In 2009, we must content ourselves with Congreve’s marvelously witty prose and the uniformly excellent performances by a cast that throws itself into the production with ambition and abandon.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> is going to be a long (three hours, including a pair of 10-minute intermissions), brash and noisy farce regardless of who’s at the helm. In the hands of Rebecca J. Ennals, it is a particularly rollicking and randy affair. Breasts overflow their cinched bodices, men prance like peacocks or stagger drunkenly about, servants pulls strings behind the scene for their masters, couples cannot keep their hands off each other. It’s great fun, a lot of laughs and thanks to the fast pace and terrific acting, the hours fly by.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play actually begins rather unpromisingly with a gimmicky prologue that Ennals has rewritten to draw parallels between Congreve’s money-grabbing wretches and the celebrity-obsessed, paparazzi culture of today. Clad in deliberately dissonant costumes, whose flourishes swing wildly from historical to contemporary, the company raps their lines as they pretend to read from tabloids — the headlines have been reworked with the names of the characters we will soon meet but don’t yet know. There is, I’m sure, a connection between Congreve’s players and Brangelina, but I found this linkage between events three centuries apart to be a bit of a stretch.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It does not help Ennals’s case that the first scene between Fainall (Alex Kirschner) and Mirabell (Joseph Salazar) conversing in a chocolate shop drops the Restoration-celebrity connection entirely. Instead, we get a blizzard of words. Beautiful words, beautifully spoken, to be sure, but I had a difficult time following the anecdotes these two men were sharing as my ear adjusted to the vernacular, the rhythms of Congreve and the odd, similar-sounding names of his characters. As near as I could tell, Fainall, a cad, is married to a woman he does not love. Mirabell, not a cad, longs for the hand of a woman whose wealthy aunt he has offended, thus dooming his chances. We listen closely, straining to follow the plot.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Anticipating this early challenge for her audiences, Ennals has the rest of the cast pose behind a scrim to create tableau versions of the action the two men are describing. The goal is to better familiarize the audience with the characters and the play’s copious backstory. It mostly works.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We don’t need the device for long, and it is discarded entirely when Tony Witwoud (Ray Renati) flounces into view clad in a green coat, purple shoes, turquoise corset and enough makeup to make Emmett Kelly himself blush. He is, in short, a lavish clown, and he successfully upends the polite conversation between the two men with enough non sequiturs and nonsense to bring the play fully to life. From there it’s pretty much a sprint to the finish.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Along the way we encounter a slew of quirky characters and fine performances. Witwoud is joined by his friend and drinking buddy Petulant (Jim Johnson), who is a vision in orange and has the droll delivery and comic timing of Bob Elliott. The two men are a great pair.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The women of \u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> are given their opportunity to shine in the second scene, which in this version of the play is set in a clothing store rather than St. James’s Park as in the original. It’s a clever updating, giving Mrs. Fainall (Shannon Warrick) and Mrs. Marwood (Carla Pantoja) a chance to establish their lopsided relationship (Marwood is desired by Mrs. Fainall’s faithless husband) while musing on their shared problem: men. When we eventually meet Mrs. Millamant (Rami Margron), we learn that she, too, has her problems with men, but for her the trouble is reconciling her love for Mirabell with her equally fierce desire to remain an independent woman in 18th-century England where marriage reduces her to a mere possession.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One of the best aspects of this production are the performances of the ostensibly secondary players. Roberta Morris throws herself into the role of Lady Wishfort, the aforementioned wealthy aunt. Annamarie MacLeod dazzles as the lady’s maid, Foible, who is married to Mirabell’s valet, Waitwell (William J. Brown III). For his part, Waitwell has agreed to his master’s plot to woo Lady Wishfort in disguise as Sir Rowland because… oh never mind, it’s too complicated. Also great is Paul Loomis, whose drunken country bumpkin Sir Wilfull Witwoud is flat-out hilarious.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Similarly, many of the principles excel in their brief, second roles as servants of various sorts. These include Shannon Warrick, who makes us forget all about Mrs. Fainall for a few moments when she steals her scene with Sir Wilfull as a dull-witted footman. Jim Johnson bookends his Petulant with a turn as Peg, a painfully slow-moving servant who’s seemingly deaf to the insults of his fulminating mistress, Lady Wishfort. And Paul Loomis and William J. Brown III don women’s clothing, but do little else to disguise their gender, as Betty, the proprietress of the chocolate house, and Mincing, a maid to Mrs. Millamant, respectively. In the end, this supportive, ensemble spirit of the cast captivates us far more than the tenuous connections between Congreve’s England and present-day America. Not to give away the ending, but that is more than enough.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Way of the World\u003c/b> runs through May 31, 2009 at Pear Avenue Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.thepear.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit thepear.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24613/the_way_of_the_world",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024613",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24499": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24499",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24499",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1240344101000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1240344101,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Breaking the Code",
"headTitle": "Breaking the Code | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>The British mathematician and cryptanalyst Alan Turing may have been one of the smartest people who has ever lived. During World War II, he helped crack the Enigma codes that enabled Nazi U-boats to sink merchant ships at will, thus breaking Germany’s naval blockade of the United Kingdom. A grateful nation awarded him an Order of the British Empire for his efforts. After the war, he laid the groundwork for the first computer, wrote an influential paper about artificial intelligence and studied the link between Fibonacci number sequences and morphogenesis.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In short, Turing was a pretty bright guy, whose life was devoted to the exposure of unsolvable secrets and the formulation of new, unanticipated truths. So perhaps it isn’t completely surprising that Turing essentially invited the police to discover his homosexuality, which he then went on to confess without even being asked. Turing had to have known that homosexuality was a crime in England when he revealed it in 1952, but he appears to have lacked the common sense to predict that his confession would ruin his career. By the summer of 1954, just a few weeks shy of his 42nd birthday, Turing was dead, a half-eaten, cyanide-laced apple by his side.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Breaking the Code\u003c/b>, now through May 2, 2009 at Bus Barn Stage Company in Los Altos, does a good job of telling the based-on-a-true-story account of this brilliant man. The reason for the play’s success is largely due to Geoff Fiorito’s confident portrayal of Turing. Fiorito touchingly captures Turing’s nervous fingernail biting, his stutter and his discomfort in his own skin. Which is not to say the performance is one-dimensional. He also delivers Turing’s eloquent sides, from the weary, unapologetic candor he displays about his sexual orientation to his skills as a lecturer. In fact, Fiorito is so good at communicating Turing’s Wittgenstein-inspired logic that there are moments during the play when we feel as if we too might understand the secrets of the universe.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hugh Whitemore’s 1986 play, which originally starred Derek Jacobi, opens in 1952 with Turing reporting a burglary to a skeptical detective named Mick Ross (Michael Champlin). At this point in Turing’s life, Turing’s most productive years are behind him, but he doesn’t know that yet. Perhaps he believes that if he could beat the Nazi’s Enigma machine he can manage a local cop, but Turing is an unskilled liar. Ross can spot a flimsy story a mile away, and plays the great man like a fool.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cut to 1929. Turing has brought a friend, Christopher Morcom (Blaze Mancillas) home from Sherbourne, where they are attending school together. “Alan has talked so much about you,” gushes Turing’s mother, Sara (Sondra Putnam), without realizing the implications of her innocent statement. This is where it all began, we think. His mother’s blind eye to his devotion to young men has left Turing woefully unprepared for encounters with the Mick Rosses of the world.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Flash forward to 1952 again, shortly before his encounter with Ross. Turing is having a pint in a pub, where he meets a young man named Ron Miller (Bora “Max” Koknar). By now, we know that Turing is a man of extraordinary intelligence and accomplishment, yet here he is, sitting in a bar with a tough-looking stranger in a leather jacket and t-shirt, patiently trying to explain his struggle to build an electronic brain to a kid who has less cerebral goals on his randy mind.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play continues in this manner, bouncing back and forth in time. As theatrical devices go, it feels a bit quaint by contemporary standards. Before long, though, we settle for a bit in 1939 and Turing’s first meeting with Dillwyn Knox (James G. Mantell) at Bletchley Park, where Turing worked in secrecy until the end of the war. Mantell is terrific as the gruff old administrator whose job it is to keep disorderly geniuses like Turing in line. One of Knox’s carrots for Turing is Patricia Green (Katie Anderson). “She’s quite as good as any chap,” Knox assures Turing. Knox, of course, has no idea (not yet, anyway) that Turing prefers chaps, but Green proves Turing’s intellectual equal and gains his respect and trust.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Green would also like his love, but Turing gently pushes back, explaining his homosexuality as an obvious impediment to their relationship. Patiently, Green explains that she already knows he’s a poof, as Turing calls himself. She loves him anyway and is willing to wait for him to come around. But for Turing, there is nothing to come around to. He is who he is. Not to sound judgmental about Turing’s sexual orientation, but I really wanted these two to figure it out. As actors, Fiorito and Anderson work well together on stage. Even though their scenes are all too brief, the actors do a good job of telegraphing the affection and commonalities between their characters, which feel every bit as important as their core difference. As audience members, we are exhilarated by the promise of their mutual attraction, and just a little bit crushed that they cannot repeat their shared victory over Enigma by cracking the codes that divide them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Breaking the Code\u003c/b> runs through May 2, 2009 at Bus Barn Stage Company. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.busbarn.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit thestage.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 936,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 11
},
"modified": 1705052721,
"excerpt": "The British mathematician Alan Turing, who helped break the Nazi Enigma codes, devoted his life to the exposure of unsolvable secrets. So perhaps it isn't completely surprising that Turing essentially invited the police to discover his homosexuality.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The British mathematician Alan Turing, who helped break the Nazi Enigma codes, devoted his life to the exposure of unsolvable secrets. So perhaps it isn't completely surprising that Turing essentially invited the police to discover his homosexuality.",
"title": "Breaking the Code | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Breaking the Code",
"datePublished": "2009-04-21T13:01:41-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:45:21-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "breaking_the_code",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24499/breaking_the_code",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The British mathematician and cryptanalyst Alan Turing may have been one of the smartest people who has ever lived. During World War II, he helped crack the Enigma codes that enabled Nazi U-boats to sink merchant ships at will, thus breaking Germany’s naval blockade of the United Kingdom. A grateful nation awarded him an Order of the British Empire for his efforts. After the war, he laid the groundwork for the first computer, wrote an influential paper about artificial intelligence and studied the link between Fibonacci number sequences and morphogenesis.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In short, Turing was a pretty bright guy, whose life was devoted to the exposure of unsolvable secrets and the formulation of new, unanticipated truths. So perhaps it isn’t completely surprising that Turing essentially invited the police to discover his homosexuality, which he then went on to confess without even being asked. Turing had to have known that homosexuality was a crime in England when he revealed it in 1952, but he appears to have lacked the common sense to predict that his confession would ruin his career. By the summer of 1954, just a few weeks shy of his 42nd birthday, Turing was dead, a half-eaten, cyanide-laced apple by his side.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Breaking the Code\u003c/b>, now through May 2, 2009 at Bus Barn Stage Company in Los Altos, does a good job of telling the based-on-a-true-story account of this brilliant man. The reason for the play’s success is largely due to Geoff Fiorito’s confident portrayal of Turing. Fiorito touchingly captures Turing’s nervous fingernail biting, his stutter and his discomfort in his own skin. Which is not to say the performance is one-dimensional. He also delivers Turing’s eloquent sides, from the weary, unapologetic candor he displays about his sexual orientation to his skills as a lecturer. In fact, Fiorito is so good at communicating Turing’s Wittgenstein-inspired logic that there are moments during the play when we feel as if we too might understand the secrets of the universe.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Hugh Whitemore’s 1986 play, which originally starred Derek Jacobi, opens in 1952 with Turing reporting a burglary to a skeptical detective named Mick Ross (Michael Champlin). At this point in Turing’s life, Turing’s most productive years are behind him, but he doesn’t know that yet. Perhaps he believes that if he could beat the Nazi’s Enigma machine he can manage a local cop, but Turing is an unskilled liar. Ross can spot a flimsy story a mile away, and plays the great man like a fool.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cut to 1929. Turing has brought a friend, Christopher Morcom (Blaze Mancillas) home from Sherbourne, where they are attending school together. “Alan has talked so much about you,” gushes Turing’s mother, Sara (Sondra Putnam), without realizing the implications of her innocent statement. This is where it all began, we think. His mother’s blind eye to his devotion to young men has left Turing woefully unprepared for encounters with the Mick Rosses of the world.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Flash forward to 1952 again, shortly before his encounter with Ross. Turing is having a pint in a pub, where he meets a young man named Ron Miller (Bora “Max” Koknar). By now, we know that Turing is a man of extraordinary intelligence and accomplishment, yet here he is, sitting in a bar with a tough-looking stranger in a leather jacket and t-shirt, patiently trying to explain his struggle to build an electronic brain to a kid who has less cerebral goals on his randy mind.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play continues in this manner, bouncing back and forth in time. As theatrical devices go, it feels a bit quaint by contemporary standards. Before long, though, we settle for a bit in 1939 and Turing’s first meeting with Dillwyn Knox (James G. Mantell) at Bletchley Park, where Turing worked in secrecy until the end of the war. Mantell is terrific as the gruff old administrator whose job it is to keep disorderly geniuses like Turing in line. One of Knox’s carrots for Turing is Patricia Green (Katie Anderson). “She’s quite as good as any chap,” Knox assures Turing. Knox, of course, has no idea (not yet, anyway) that Turing prefers chaps, but Green proves Turing’s intellectual equal and gains his respect and trust.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Green would also like his love, but Turing gently pushes back, explaining his homosexuality as an obvious impediment to their relationship. Patiently, Green explains that she already knows he’s a poof, as Turing calls himself. She loves him anyway and is willing to wait for him to come around. But for Turing, there is nothing to come around to. He is who he is. Not to sound judgmental about Turing’s sexual orientation, but I really wanted these two to figure it out. As actors, Fiorito and Anderson work well together on stage. Even though their scenes are all too brief, the actors do a good job of telegraphing the affection and commonalities between their characters, which feel every bit as important as their core difference. As audience members, we are exhilarated by the promise of their mutual attraction, and just a little bit crushed that they cannot repeat their shared victory over Enigma by cracking the codes that divide them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Breaking the Code\u003c/b> runs through May 2, 2009 at Bus Barn Stage Company. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.busbarn.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit thestage.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24499/breaking_the_code",
"authors": [
"92"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024499",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24291": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24291",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24291",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1237926175000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1237926175,
"format": "standard",
"title": "The Three Musketeers at City Lights",
"headTitle": "The Three Musketeers at City Lights | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Kit Wilder’s adaptation of \u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b>, now through April 19, 2009 at City Lights Theater Company in San Jose, has lots of swordfights, mountains of heaving cleavage and so much self-conscious, fourth-wall-shattering irony that the entire undertaking teeters on the smug. It’s a noisy affair that delights in its ability to send great masses of saber-wielding actors, clad in big boots, funny hats and poofy costumes, sprinting to all four corners of the theater to fight each other with swords, knives and fists. There’s even a rope swing to help speed the action along. In short, \u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b> is the stage equivalent of your basic Hollywood popcorn movie, except without the popcorn.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Along the way, some rather fine acting manages to cut through the cartoonish bluster and fighting as highpoints of the Alexandre Dumas classic are briefly touched upon. Would that Wilder had budgeted more time for his actors and the story they are trying to tell.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play opens with great fanfare and ceremony. As the entire cast assembles itself before us on the stage, the imperious Duke of Buckingham (Charles McKeithan) proclaims the wonders that we are about to enjoy. There’s just one problem: The lead actor is drunk and has not yet arrived. “The show must go on!” cries one gung-ho thespian. “Oh please,” growls another in disgust. Before we know it, a stagehand in contemporary street clothes (Thomas Gorrebeeck) is recruited to perform the role of young D’Artagnan of Gascony, the future fourth Musketeer. Before he knows it, he’s traded his 21st-century shoes for 17th-century boots, a sword is strapped to his body and a script is thrust into his hands. He reads: “A tavern on the road to Paris.” And with that, our hero has his first scrape with his eye-patched nemesis, Comte de Rochefort (Ron Talbot).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This should be great fun, and it often is, but Wilder overplays the gimmick, especially in the first act, when even the actors appear to grow impatient with the rookie in their midst by shouting out, often in unison, page numbers in the script for Gorrebeeck/D’Artagnan to turn to. For his part, Gorrebeeck does a good job of juggling the script and his “real” props, but his character is not given much acting to do. For far too long, he careens through the play as its victim, and the attempts to give D’Artagnan the opportunity to evolve are mostly limited to his costume, which, in a nice touch, improves throughout the first act until he is fully costumed by the second.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wilder’s conceit of a fish out of water (country bumpkin D’Artagnan in Paris) played by a fish out of water (the recruited stagehand) is tiresome not just because so much of the action on stage is calculated to call our attention to it, over and over again. No, the problem is that the time all this repetition consumes comes at the expense of the story. For example, in the first act there is little hint that the hard-drinking Musketeer Athos (played by Wilder himself) has any connection at all to the wicked Milady de Winter (Vera Sloan). About the only times we encounter de Winter are when she’s loitering around Cardinal Richelieu’s (Michael J. West) office. But the second act largely belongs to the tale of Athos and de Winter, so the lack of cleverly disguised foreshadowing seems like a missed opportunity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The attention lavished on Gorrebeeck’s twin personas and the time spent on the seemingly endless swordfights also comes at the expense of character development. The only Musketeer with any depth is the one Wilder plays, Athos. Putting away the swords and prop-script device for a moment, Wilder revisits the scene made famous by Oliver Reed in the 1973 film version of the story, in which Athos tells D’Artagnan the haunting tale of his past relationship with a woman who was so duplicitous that he felt he had no choice but to kill her. So that’s why he drinks, we think. It would have been nice to get to know Porthos (a hilarious John Romano) and Aramis (meticulously played by George Psarras) just as well.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All that said, \u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b> has its moments, and the large cast practically ensures that at least a few of the standout performances will come from unexpected places. George S. Gemette’s turn as the leering and lustful landlord Bonacieux is especially good. Sam Krow-Lucal makes the most of his scenes as D’Artagnan’s servant, Planchet. And Joshua Marx surprises us when his Felton, a pious servant to Buckingham, all but steals his scene with Sloan, who cleverly uses the lad’s religious backbone to seduce him. For her part, Sloan shines like a polished poison apple throughout the second act, and Lucinda Dobson as Kitty, de Winter’s conflicted lady in waiting, is the perfect guileless counterpart to her conniving mistress. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b> runs through April 19, 2009 at City Lights Theater Company in San Jose. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.cltc.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit cltc.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 895,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 10
},
"modified": 1705052762,
"excerpt": "Kit Wilder's adaptation of \u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b> is the stage equivalent of your basic Hollywood popcorn movie, except without the popcorn.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Kit Wilder's adaptation of The Three Musketeers is the stage equivalent of your basic Hollywood popcorn movie, except without the popcorn.",
"title": "The Three Musketeers at City Lights | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "The Three Musketeers at City Lights",
"datePublished": "2009-03-24T13:22:55-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:46:02-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the_three_musketeers_at_city_lights",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24291/the_three_musketeers_at_city_lights",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Kit Wilder’s adaptation of \u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b>, now through April 19, 2009 at City Lights Theater Company in San Jose, has lots of swordfights, mountains of heaving cleavage and so much self-conscious, fourth-wall-shattering irony that the entire undertaking teeters on the smug. It’s a noisy affair that delights in its ability to send great masses of saber-wielding actors, clad in big boots, funny hats and poofy costumes, sprinting to all four corners of the theater to fight each other with swords, knives and fists. There’s even a rope swing to help speed the action along. In short, \u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b> is the stage equivalent of your basic Hollywood popcorn movie, except without the popcorn.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Along the way, some rather fine acting manages to cut through the cartoonish bluster and fighting as highpoints of the Alexandre Dumas classic are briefly touched upon. Would that Wilder had budgeted more time for his actors and the story they are trying to tell.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play opens with great fanfare and ceremony. As the entire cast assembles itself before us on the stage, the imperious Duke of Buckingham (Charles McKeithan) proclaims the wonders that we are about to enjoy. There’s just one problem: The lead actor is drunk and has not yet arrived. “The show must go on!” cries one gung-ho thespian. “Oh please,” growls another in disgust. Before we know it, a stagehand in contemporary street clothes (Thomas Gorrebeeck) is recruited to perform the role of young D’Artagnan of Gascony, the future fourth Musketeer. Before he knows it, he’s traded his 21st-century shoes for 17th-century boots, a sword is strapped to his body and a script is thrust into his hands. He reads: “A tavern on the road to Paris.” And with that, our hero has his first scrape with his eye-patched nemesis, Comte de Rochefort (Ron Talbot).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This should be great fun, and it often is, but Wilder overplays the gimmick, especially in the first act, when even the actors appear to grow impatient with the rookie in their midst by shouting out, often in unison, page numbers in the script for Gorrebeeck/D’Artagnan to turn to. For his part, Gorrebeeck does a good job of juggling the script and his “real” props, but his character is not given much acting to do. For far too long, he careens through the play as its victim, and the attempts to give D’Artagnan the opportunity to evolve are mostly limited to his costume, which, in a nice touch, improves throughout the first act until he is fully costumed by the second.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wilder’s conceit of a fish out of water (country bumpkin D’Artagnan in Paris) played by a fish out of water (the recruited stagehand) is tiresome not just because so much of the action on stage is calculated to call our attention to it, over and over again. No, the problem is that the time all this repetition consumes comes at the expense of the story. For example, in the first act there is little hint that the hard-drinking Musketeer Athos (played by Wilder himself) has any connection at all to the wicked Milady de Winter (Vera Sloan). About the only times we encounter de Winter are when she’s loitering around Cardinal Richelieu’s (Michael J. West) office. But the second act largely belongs to the tale of Athos and de Winter, so the lack of cleverly disguised foreshadowing seems like a missed opportunity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The attention lavished on Gorrebeeck’s twin personas and the time spent on the seemingly endless swordfights also comes at the expense of character development. The only Musketeer with any depth is the one Wilder plays, Athos. Putting away the swords and prop-script device for a moment, Wilder revisits the scene made famous by Oliver Reed in the 1973 film version of the story, in which Athos tells D’Artagnan the haunting tale of his past relationship with a woman who was so duplicitous that he felt he had no choice but to kill her. So that’s why he drinks, we think. It would have been nice to get to know Porthos (a hilarious John Romano) and Aramis (meticulously played by George Psarras) just as well.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All that said, \u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b> has its moments, and the large cast practically ensures that at least a few of the standout performances will come from unexpected places. George S. Gemette’s turn as the leering and lustful landlord Bonacieux is especially good. Sam Krow-Lucal makes the most of his scenes as D’Artagnan’s servant, Planchet. And Joshua Marx surprises us when his Felton, a pious servant to Buckingham, all but steals his scene with Sloan, who cleverly uses the lad’s religious backbone to seduce him. For her part, Sloan shines like a polished poison apple throughout the second act, and Lucinda Dobson as Kitty, de Winter’s conflicted lady in waiting, is the perfect guileless counterpart to her conniving mistress. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Three Musketeers\u003c/b> runs through April 19, 2009 at City Lights Theater Company in San Jose. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.cltc.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit cltc.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24291/the_three_musketeers_at_city_lights",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024291",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24137": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24137",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24137",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1236122268000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1236122268,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Pick Up Ax",
"headTitle": "Pick Up Ax | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Once upon a time, way back in 1980, there was no World Wide Web, no Nintendo Wii, no GTA of any Roman numeral. State-of-the-art software was chained to primitive, constraining hardware, and video games were so archaic that you had to actually type in written commands to do something as rudimentary as opening a door. Today’s weapons-laden avatars have only to stand before a virtual door armed with the correct, hard-won key, and the thing will magically swing open for them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Anthony Clarvoe’s \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b>, now through March 15, 2009 at Pear Avenue Theatre in Mountain View, is set in the Silicon Valley of that ancient era. Thanks to the smart direction of Ray Renati, a clever set by Ron Gasparinetti and very strong performances by all three actors, \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b> is the best play I’ve seen this year.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As the play opens to the heroic power chords of “Foreplay/Long Time” by Boston, Brian (Ben Fisher) and Keith (Alan Kaiser) are crowded into Brian’s toy- and computer-crammed office. Keith has taken up residence there because he’s filled his office with junk. Keith is the company’s resident savant, the “franchise” as Brian calls him, who can commune all day long with ones and zeros but wilts in the face of contact with other human beings. Brian, who discovered Keith one day in a video-game arcade racking up insanely high scores, is the company’s president. As the stage lights come up he’s on the phone, screaming at a chip supplier who inexplicably refuses to take his money.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The situation that Clarvoe presents to us, as well as much of the subsequent plot that unwinds throughout the rest of the play, mirrors the historical events of those days, when big-time suppliers of key components made sweetheart deals with preferred customers to effectively squeeze smaller players out of business. Indeed, the care Clarvoe has taken to get his facts right is one of the many pleasures of \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b>, but his play goes far beyond documentary. Despite all the spot-on references to chips and sensors and software, this is a play about how humans work rather than how machines do.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We know Brian, we’ve met lots of people like him before. He’s the guy who had the smarts, skills and personality to rise pretty far in his world, but not all the way to the top. His problem? He cares. He was drawn to Keith not only for his value as a potential meal ticket but also for Keith’s humanity. Somehow, despite being a good guy with laudable instincts, the company that he and Keith founded on a shoestring now employs scores of workers, which is one of the main reasons why Fisher’s Brian is desperate to save their company. It sounds odd to say this at a moment in history when the world’s economies are shuddering from the effects of wanton greed, but you get the feeling that if only Brian had exhibited a bit more self-interest, his company would not be in this predicament. Fisher beautifully captures this toxic mix of healthy ambition and good intentions.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Keith is less familiar to us. We’ve heard about people like this, we may have even worked in the same cube farm with them, but we probably never got very close. Keith is the kind of guy who is simply not wired to let a lot of people into his private world. Brian is his only friend, the only person he really trusts to reveal his burden of genius. And what a glimpse of genius we get. Kaiser’s Keith is a gangly man-child, all elbows and knees, whose social skills are near zero. His appetite for absorbing data and cranking out code is close to infinite. When he’s hot, he can type faster than he can tell you what he’s doing. When he’s blocked, he retreats to pot and \u003cb>Dungeons and Dragons\u003c/b>. Keith may be the brains of the outfit, he may even, as Brian remarks, “run a mean dungeon,” but Brian holds his reigns, and that relationship seems to suit each party just fine.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Into their world enters Mick, a fast-talking, old-school smoothy who has been following their company’s misfortunes in the press. After a hilarious brainstorming session (though a drama, \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b> is often very funny), Mick suggests some novel business strategies of the offer-they-can’t-refuse variety. Brian, whose board of directors is breathing down his neck as the company’s chip crisis deepens, makes his deal with the devil and agrees to let Mick “talk” to his stubborn supplier. Champlin’s street-smart Mick is all confidence and patience (Brian, and especially Keith, would have been turned off if all Mick had to offer them was smarm), with flashes of anger that suggest a deep reservoir of menace below his impeccably tailored surface. This, we think, is not going to turn out well for our boys.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beyond the tight plot and its numerous twists, the insider nerd-speak and terrific dialogue — \u003ci>Brian: Extortion is technically speaking illegal. Mick: A hostile person could give it that construction\u003c/i> — one of the most effective aspects of this production is the way in which the characters evolve during the two hours we spend with them. In particular, I was impressed by the way Kaiser managed to give his character an arc without changing the nature of who Keith is. He lets Keith be Keith, unafraid to appear childish and vulnerable even as his insatiable brain is processing the swarm of new data known as Mick. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b> runs through March 15, 2009. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.thepear.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit thepear.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 1007,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 11
},
"modified": 1705052792,
"excerpt": "Once upon a time there was no World Wide Web, no Nintendo Wii, no GTA. State-of-the-art software was chained to primitive hardware and video games were so archaic that you had to actually type in written commands to do something as rudimentary as opening a door.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Once upon a time there was no World Wide Web, no Nintendo Wii, no GTA. State-of-the-art software was chained to primitive hardware and video games were so archaic that you had to actually type in written commands to do something as rudimentary as opening a door.",
"title": "Pick Up Ax | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Pick Up Ax",
"datePublished": "2009-03-03T15:17:48-08:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:46:32-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "pick_up_ax",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24137/pick_up_ax",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Once upon a time, way back in 1980, there was no World Wide Web, no Nintendo Wii, no GTA of any Roman numeral. State-of-the-art software was chained to primitive, constraining hardware, and video games were so archaic that you had to actually type in written commands to do something as rudimentary as opening a door. Today’s weapons-laden avatars have only to stand before a virtual door armed with the correct, hard-won key, and the thing will magically swing open for them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Anthony Clarvoe’s \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b>, now through March 15, 2009 at Pear Avenue Theatre in Mountain View, is set in the Silicon Valley of that ancient era. Thanks to the smart direction of Ray Renati, a clever set by Ron Gasparinetti and very strong performances by all three actors, \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b> is the best play I’ve seen this year.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As the play opens to the heroic power chords of “Foreplay/Long Time” by Boston, Brian (Ben Fisher) and Keith (Alan Kaiser) are crowded into Brian’s toy- and computer-crammed office. Keith has taken up residence there because he’s filled his office with junk. Keith is the company’s resident savant, the “franchise” as Brian calls him, who can commune all day long with ones and zeros but wilts in the face of contact with other human beings. Brian, who discovered Keith one day in a video-game arcade racking up insanely high scores, is the company’s president. As the stage lights come up he’s on the phone, screaming at a chip supplier who inexplicably refuses to take his money.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The situation that Clarvoe presents to us, as well as much of the subsequent plot that unwinds throughout the rest of the play, mirrors the historical events of those days, when big-time suppliers of key components made sweetheart deals with preferred customers to effectively squeeze smaller players out of business. Indeed, the care Clarvoe has taken to get his facts right is one of the many pleasures of \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b>, but his play goes far beyond documentary. Despite all the spot-on references to chips and sensors and software, this is a play about how humans work rather than how machines do.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We know Brian, we’ve met lots of people like him before. He’s the guy who had the smarts, skills and personality to rise pretty far in his world, but not all the way to the top. His problem? He cares. He was drawn to Keith not only for his value as a potential meal ticket but also for Keith’s humanity. Somehow, despite being a good guy with laudable instincts, the company that he and Keith founded on a shoestring now employs scores of workers, which is one of the main reasons why Fisher’s Brian is desperate to save their company. It sounds odd to say this at a moment in history when the world’s economies are shuddering from the effects of wanton greed, but you get the feeling that if only Brian had exhibited a bit more self-interest, his company would not be in this predicament. Fisher beautifully captures this toxic mix of healthy ambition and good intentions.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Keith is less familiar to us. We’ve heard about people like this, we may have even worked in the same cube farm with them, but we probably never got very close. Keith is the kind of guy who is simply not wired to let a lot of people into his private world. Brian is his only friend, the only person he really trusts to reveal his burden of genius. And what a glimpse of genius we get. Kaiser’s Keith is a gangly man-child, all elbows and knees, whose social skills are near zero. His appetite for absorbing data and cranking out code is close to infinite. When he’s hot, he can type faster than he can tell you what he’s doing. When he’s blocked, he retreats to pot and \u003cb>Dungeons and Dragons\u003c/b>. Keith may be the brains of the outfit, he may even, as Brian remarks, “run a mean dungeon,” but Brian holds his reigns, and that relationship seems to suit each party just fine.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Into their world enters Mick, a fast-talking, old-school smoothy who has been following their company’s misfortunes in the press. After a hilarious brainstorming session (though a drama, \u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b> is often very funny), Mick suggests some novel business strategies of the offer-they-can’t-refuse variety. Brian, whose board of directors is breathing down his neck as the company’s chip crisis deepens, makes his deal with the devil and agrees to let Mick “talk” to his stubborn supplier. Champlin’s street-smart Mick is all confidence and patience (Brian, and especially Keith, would have been turned off if all Mick had to offer them was smarm), with flashes of anger that suggest a deep reservoir of menace below his impeccably tailored surface. This, we think, is not going to turn out well for our boys.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beyond the tight plot and its numerous twists, the insider nerd-speak and terrific dialogue — \u003ci>Brian: Extortion is technically speaking illegal. Mick: A hostile person could give it that construction\u003c/i> — one of the most effective aspects of this production is the way in which the characters evolve during the two hours we spend with them. In particular, I was impressed by the way Kaiser managed to give his character an arc without changing the nature of who Keith is. He lets Keith be Keith, unafraid to appear childish and vulnerable even as his insatiable brain is processing the swarm of new data known as Mick. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Pick Up Ax\u003c/b> runs through March 15, 2009. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.thepear.org\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit thepear.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24137/pick_up_ax",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024137",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_24064": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_24064",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "24064",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1234567218000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1234567218,
"format": "standard",
"title": "In the Next Room",
"headTitle": "In the Next Room | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Dr. Givings (Paul Niebanck) is a no-nonsense man of science, a skilled technician who, like a Michael Palin character in a Monty Python sketch, stands rigid and erect, his face an idiotic mask of formality, as he pleasures a female patient with an electric vibrator until she cries out in ecstasy for deliverance from above. Catherine (Hannah Cabell), his wife, is a new mother who’s guided by a loopy logic that bubbles uncontrollably from her lips pretty much whenever she opens her mouth. He is all restraint and control; she is all impulse.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The good doctor and his wife are the most richly drawn characters in Sarah Ruhl’s \u003cb>In the Next Room (or the vibrator play)\u003c/b>, now playing at Berkeley Rep, but that, alas, is not saying much. Like the rest of the play’s characters who mechanically enter and exit the two-room set, Givings and his wife are tired clichés, which makes their eventual catharses and epiphanies about life, love and the virtues of being connected to each other in an honest and human way so implausible. Where, we wonder, could their insights have possibly come from?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ruhl’s play is set in the United States at the dawn of the electric age. Like the Givings’ newborn daughter, the 20th century is barely in its infancy. For privileged people like Catherine, her doctor husband and his patients, the world is a place of endless social constraints and unlimited technological possibilities. In addition to bringing light to homes once illuminated by fire, electricity has spawned a number of crackerjack new inventions, including electric vibrators, which are used by male doctors to treat women (mostly) whom they have diagnosed with hysteria. The cure involves bringing these women to orgasm so that the fluids putting pressure on their wombs can be released. What they need, in other words, is a good lay.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Or at least that’s how Samantha on \u003cb>Sex and the City\u003c/b> might explain it to Carrie today. But as I watched these uptight Victorians in their gorgeous costumes (hats off to David Zinn) busy themselves in scene after scene, I wondered if perhaps Ruhl’s decision to set her play about marriage and intimacy in this particular era mired it needlessly in the anachronistic. Sure I was drawn to her source material: \u003cb>The Technology of Orgasm: Hysteria, the Vibrator, and Women’s Sexual Satisfaction\u003c/b> by Rachel P. Maines sounds like a terrific read. I’m not sure, though, that it makes a terrific play. I concede that sexual intimacy remains confusing terrain for a great many couples, even in “a time when pornography is mainstream,” as Ruhl puts it. But like the emotional and sexual repression of the Victorian era, pornography is an extreme. A more accurate picture of the “mainstream” are the millions of younger potential theater-goers who have grown up with \u003cb>American Pie\u003c/b>, \u003cb>The 40-Year-Old Virgin\u003c/b> and \u003cb>Juno\u003c/b>. For them, I fear, Ruhl’s play is going to seem like so much whining by so many confused old people, who probably shouldn’t be thinking so much about sex in the first place.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Worse than the cartoon personalities of the lead actors is the relationship between the play’s white female characters and its solitary black one. Consider this on-stage geometry: In one corner is Catherine, who recently bore a child but cannot produce any milk. Sitting next to her is her husband’s female patient, Sabrina Daldry (Maria Dizzia), who cannot bear a child. Opposite them is Elizabeth (Melle Powers), Sabrina’s black housekeeper who a) has just lost a baby so has plenty of milk to spare for Catherine’s daughter, b) manages to hold down a job despite her recent loss and two kids at home, c) has a loving husband who is not afraid to express himself emotionally and d) is the only one of the bunch who can recognize an orgasm when it’s described to her in dripping detail because she’s the only one of them who has actually had one during “relations” with her husband. In fact, she’s so clear-eyed that she even understands that when it comes to the performance of one’s marital duties with one’s husband, orgasms are not always a sure thing. No, these wealthy white chicks don’t stand a chance against this black earth mama, who’s wise beyond her station in life and class. I understand that Ruhl is using Elizabeth to make certain points, but the over-reaching near-deification of the character had a racial edge to it that made me squirm.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Much has been written about Sarah Ruhl’s light touch, and how her lightness should not be misinterpreted as lightweight. Indeed Ruhl’s wordplay is often hilarious and sharp precisely because her ear for charming sentiments expressed with wit and simplicity is so keen. I won’t give away the set up, but I loved the way Cabell’s Catherine realized that she might not know what kind of person she is because she has never had to decide whether or not to carry an umbrella. The play has lots of that sort of thing but ultimately, \u003cb>In The Next Room (or the vibrator play)\u003c/b>, from its self-conscious title to its thinly drawn characters, feels as fluffy as one of the bustles in one of Catherine’s skirts. With the exception of Dr. Givings, the play’s male characters are mere props used by the women to move the plot along before they are tossed aside. Even the female players are relieved of their duties when deemed no longer of use. For example, just when we think we are going to get a moment of truth between the doctor’s assistant Annie (Stacy Ross) and Sabrina, Ruhl pulls the melodramatic we-must-never-see-each-other-again card, and that’s that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All of which made the illumination between the principals at the end feel so artificial, however lovely the staging or heartfelt the acting. I don’t believe for a second that the stiff doctor could turn on a dime from Monty Python stereotype to free sprit lying naked in the snow in the moonlight, and based on the character we spend some two hours with, I definitely don’t understand how Catherine could have been the one to lead him there. “I like plays that have revelations in the moment, where emotions transform almost inexplicably,” says Ruhl in the program. I like magical realism, or whatever you want to call it, too, but this play is so grounded in historical fact, time and setting that the dislocation at its end felt like the Plan B solution of an obviously gifted writer using the tricks of her trade to meet a tough deadline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>In the Next Room (or the vibrator play)\u003c/b> runs through March 15, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://berkeleyrep.org/ticketing/calendar/index.aspx\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 1208,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 10
},
"modified": 1705052813,
"excerpt": "In addition to bringing light to homes once illuminated by fire, electricity has spawned a number of crackerjack new inventions, including electric vibrators, which are used by male doctors to treat women (mostly) whom they have diagnosed with hysteria.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "In addition to bringing light to homes once illuminated by fire, electricity has spawned a number of crackerjack new inventions, including electric vibrators, which are used by male doctors to treat women (mostly) whom they have diagnosed with hysteria.",
"title": "In the Next Room | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "In the Next Room",
"datePublished": "2009-02-13T15:20:18-08:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:46:53-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "in_the_next_room",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/24064/in_the_next_room",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Dr. Givings (Paul Niebanck) is a no-nonsense man of science, a skilled technician who, like a Michael Palin character in a Monty Python sketch, stands rigid and erect, his face an idiotic mask of formality, as he pleasures a female patient with an electric vibrator until she cries out in ecstasy for deliverance from above. Catherine (Hannah Cabell), his wife, is a new mother who’s guided by a loopy logic that bubbles uncontrollably from her lips pretty much whenever she opens her mouth. He is all restraint and control; she is all impulse.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The good doctor and his wife are the most richly drawn characters in Sarah Ruhl’s \u003cb>In the Next Room (or the vibrator play)\u003c/b>, now playing at Berkeley Rep, but that, alas, is not saying much. Like the rest of the play’s characters who mechanically enter and exit the two-room set, Givings and his wife are tired clichés, which makes their eventual catharses and epiphanies about life, love and the virtues of being connected to each other in an honest and human way so implausible. Where, we wonder, could their insights have possibly come from?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ruhl’s play is set in the United States at the dawn of the electric age. Like the Givings’ newborn daughter, the 20th century is barely in its infancy. For privileged people like Catherine, her doctor husband and his patients, the world is a place of endless social constraints and unlimited technological possibilities. In addition to bringing light to homes once illuminated by fire, electricity has spawned a number of crackerjack new inventions, including electric vibrators, which are used by male doctors to treat women (mostly) whom they have diagnosed with hysteria. The cure involves bringing these women to orgasm so that the fluids putting pressure on their wombs can be released. What they need, in other words, is a good lay.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Or at least that’s how Samantha on \u003cb>Sex and the City\u003c/b> might explain it to Carrie today. But as I watched these uptight Victorians in their gorgeous costumes (hats off to David Zinn) busy themselves in scene after scene, I wondered if perhaps Ruhl’s decision to set her play about marriage and intimacy in this particular era mired it needlessly in the anachronistic. Sure I was drawn to her source material: \u003cb>The Technology of Orgasm: Hysteria, the Vibrator, and Women’s Sexual Satisfaction\u003c/b> by Rachel P. Maines sounds like a terrific read. I’m not sure, though, that it makes a terrific play. I concede that sexual intimacy remains confusing terrain for a great many couples, even in “a time when pornography is mainstream,” as Ruhl puts it. But like the emotional and sexual repression of the Victorian era, pornography is an extreme. A more accurate picture of the “mainstream” are the millions of younger potential theater-goers who have grown up with \u003cb>American Pie\u003c/b>, \u003cb>The 40-Year-Old Virgin\u003c/b> and \u003cb>Juno\u003c/b>. For them, I fear, Ruhl’s play is going to seem like so much whining by so many confused old people, who probably shouldn’t be thinking so much about sex in the first place.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Worse than the cartoon personalities of the lead actors is the relationship between the play’s white female characters and its solitary black one. Consider this on-stage geometry: In one corner is Catherine, who recently bore a child but cannot produce any milk. Sitting next to her is her husband’s female patient, Sabrina Daldry (Maria Dizzia), who cannot bear a child. Opposite them is Elizabeth (Melle Powers), Sabrina’s black housekeeper who a) has just lost a baby so has plenty of milk to spare for Catherine’s daughter, b) manages to hold down a job despite her recent loss and two kids at home, c) has a loving husband who is not afraid to express himself emotionally and d) is the only one of the bunch who can recognize an orgasm when it’s described to her in dripping detail because she’s the only one of them who has actually had one during “relations” with her husband. In fact, she’s so clear-eyed that she even understands that when it comes to the performance of one’s marital duties with one’s husband, orgasms are not always a sure thing. No, these wealthy white chicks don’t stand a chance against this black earth mama, who’s wise beyond her station in life and class. I understand that Ruhl is using Elizabeth to make certain points, but the over-reaching near-deification of the character had a racial edge to it that made me squirm.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Much has been written about Sarah Ruhl’s light touch, and how her lightness should not be misinterpreted as lightweight. Indeed Ruhl’s wordplay is often hilarious and sharp precisely because her ear for charming sentiments expressed with wit and simplicity is so keen. I won’t give away the set up, but I loved the way Cabell’s Catherine realized that she might not know what kind of person she is because she has never had to decide whether or not to carry an umbrella. The play has lots of that sort of thing but ultimately, \u003cb>In The Next Room (or the vibrator play)\u003c/b>, from its self-conscious title to its thinly drawn characters, feels as fluffy as one of the bustles in one of Catherine’s skirts. With the exception of Dr. Givings, the play’s male characters are mere props used by the women to move the plot along before they are tossed aside. Even the female players are relieved of their duties when deemed no longer of use. For example, just when we think we are going to get a moment of truth between the doctor’s assistant Annie (Stacy Ross) and Sabrina, Ruhl pulls the melodramatic we-must-never-see-each-other-again card, and that’s that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All of which made the illumination between the principals at the end feel so artificial, however lovely the staging or heartfelt the acting. I don’t believe for a second that the stiff doctor could turn on a dime from Monty Python stereotype to free sprit lying naked in the snow in the moonlight, and based on the character we spend some two hours with, I definitely don’t understand how Catherine could have been the one to lead him there. “I like plays that have revelations in the moment, where emotions transform almost inexplicably,” says Ruhl in the program. I like magical realism, or whatever you want to call it, too, but this play is so grounded in historical fact, time and setting that the dislocation at its end felt like the Plan B solution of an obviously gifted writer using the tricks of her trade to meet a tough deadline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>In the Next Room (or the vibrator play)\u003c/b> runs through March 15, 2009 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://berkeleyrep.org/ticketing/calendar/index.aspx\">tickets and information\u003c/a>, visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/24064/in_the_next_room",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10024064",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_23745": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_23745",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "23745",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1227661585000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1227661585,
"format": "standard",
"title": "The Arabian Nights",
"headTitle": "The Arabian Nights | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Mary Zimmerman’s brilliant and hilarious \u003cb>The Arabian Nights\u003c/b>, now playing at the Berkeley Rep, is a terrific capper to a tumultuous political year. Iraq was explicitly on Zimmerman’s mind when the play was first performed in 1992. Back then, the callous boast of a US military official to bomb Iraq “back to the Stone Age” during the previous year’s Gulf War compelled Zimmerman to focus her piece on the humanity of an enemy that had been systematically dehumanized so that its suffering would be more palatable to a US audience watching the carnage on TV. Today, Iraq has receded into the background somewhat as people’s 401Ks have been decimated. But the prospect of the eventual removal of our troops from Iraq seems, at last, to give us permission to be moved by a beautiful piece of theater set in Baghdad, to laugh at its fart jokes, to gasp at the poetry of its passages lifted from the Qur’an.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The source for Zimmerman’s play is \u003cb>The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night\u003c/b>, translated in 1923 by Powys Mathers. Zimmerman borrows freely and subjectively from the stories contained therein, stories spun by the clever Scheherezade (Sofia Jean Gomez) to keep the gleaming knife of frozen-hearted King Shahryar (Ryan Artzberger) from slitting her virgin throat. Within this story of a woman who must tell stories to save her life are more stories still, some told by characters who must themselves tell tales to save their own necks (or, in the case of the four suitors of a jester’s adulterous wife, their balls).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Zimmerman tends to work with many of the same actors and technicians from show to show, which is why, I suspect, the audience feels so well cared for in this exceptionally staged and beautifully acted production. We are in extraordinarily capable hands. In scene after scene, story after story, cast and crew alike rise to the occasion, getting belly laughs when the moment requires it or stunning us into silence with prose poems of loss and love. You sense that the play works so well precisely because the demands on the actors and technicians are so high. For example, all of the actors play more than one part, even if it’s just to take ensemble duties for a scene or two. Without exception, they bring equal measures of passion and animation to their various roles, be they large or small.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beyond its emotional requirements, the play is physically demanding — at some moments the actors are writhing on the floor in choreographed love making, other times they assume the forms of pantomime beasts of burden to bear each other about the stage, and throughout the performance, cast members are called upon to muscle the numerous pieces of the portable set into position around the patchwork floor of rolled-out Persian rugs, without the assistance of formal scene changes and furtive stagehands scurrying about in the dark. Some play instruments, most sing. The result is magic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And the demands don’t end there. On each night a different pair of actors is selected at random to improvise one scene. On the night I attended, Allen Gilmore (who was terrific last summer in \u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/arts/performance/article.jsp?essid=23118\">\u003cb>Bach at Leipzig\u003c/b>\u003c/a> at Shakespeare Santa Cruz and is equally marvelous here as Scheherezade’s father, the aforementioned jester and numerous other parts) and Ari Brand (I especially liked him as the boy who literally goes blind when his love leaves his side) took turns describing the contents of a bag that they both claim to own. At times they were cracking up their colleagues on the stage, which did not feel at all unprofessional. Rather, it was a moment when actors and audience were entirely in synch, each enjoying the same spectacle and letting, if only for a bit, the barriers between seats and stage fall away.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Creating such moments — be it through the serendipity of improvisation, the crafting of words that can be a child’s nursery rhyme one minute and the poetry of lovers the next, or the use of lanterns that descend from the ceiling over the audience, to include us, however symbolically, in the action — is what sets Zimmerman’s work apart from plays in which we are only expected to enjoy ourselves or be attentive. By all indications, the rapt audiences at the Rep are enjoying themselves immensely right now, but Zimmerman wants more: she wants us to connect with her characters, with the stories they are telling and the passions that are struggling to unleash from the depths of their souls. I for one am grateful that she’s crazy enough to believe that such things matter. Cynicism has had quite a ride over the last eight years. It’s high time for a new story.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you have seen \u003cb>The Arabian Nights\u003c/b>, we’d like to hear from you. What did you think of the performance? Please let us know.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Arabian Nights\u003c/b> runs through January 4, 2009 on Berkeley Repertory Theatre’s Thrust Stage. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.berkeleyrep.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 873,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 10
},
"modified": 1705052899,
"excerpt": "Zimmerman borrows freely and subjectively from \u003cb>The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night\u003c/b>, stories spun by the clever Scheherezade to keep the gleaming knife of frozen-hearted King Shahryar from slitting her virgin throat.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Zimmerman borrows freely and subjectively from The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, stories spun by the clever Scheherezade to keep the gleaming knife of frozen-hearted King Shahryar from slitting her virgin throat.",
"title": "The Arabian Nights | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "The Arabian Nights",
"datePublished": "2008-11-25T17:06:25-08:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:48:19-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the_arabian_nights",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/23745/the_arabian_nights",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Mary Zimmerman’s brilliant and hilarious \u003cb>The Arabian Nights\u003c/b>, now playing at the Berkeley Rep, is a terrific capper to a tumultuous political year. Iraq was explicitly on Zimmerman’s mind when the play was first performed in 1992. Back then, the callous boast of a US military official to bomb Iraq “back to the Stone Age” during the previous year’s Gulf War compelled Zimmerman to focus her piece on the humanity of an enemy that had been systematically dehumanized so that its suffering would be more palatable to a US audience watching the carnage on TV. Today, Iraq has receded into the background somewhat as people’s 401Ks have been decimated. But the prospect of the eventual removal of our troops from Iraq seems, at last, to give us permission to be moved by a beautiful piece of theater set in Baghdad, to laugh at its fart jokes, to gasp at the poetry of its passages lifted from the Qur’an.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The source for Zimmerman’s play is \u003cb>The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night\u003c/b>, translated in 1923 by Powys Mathers. Zimmerman borrows freely and subjectively from the stories contained therein, stories spun by the clever Scheherezade (Sofia Jean Gomez) to keep the gleaming knife of frozen-hearted King Shahryar (Ryan Artzberger) from slitting her virgin throat. Within this story of a woman who must tell stories to save her life are more stories still, some told by characters who must themselves tell tales to save their own necks (or, in the case of the four suitors of a jester’s adulterous wife, their balls).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Zimmerman tends to work with many of the same actors and technicians from show to show, which is why, I suspect, the audience feels so well cared for in this exceptionally staged and beautifully acted production. We are in extraordinarily capable hands. In scene after scene, story after story, cast and crew alike rise to the occasion, getting belly laughs when the moment requires it or stunning us into silence with prose poems of loss and love. You sense that the play works so well precisely because the demands on the actors and technicians are so high. For example, all of the actors play more than one part, even if it’s just to take ensemble duties for a scene or two. Without exception, they bring equal measures of passion and animation to their various roles, be they large or small.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beyond its emotional requirements, the play is physically demanding — at some moments the actors are writhing on the floor in choreographed love making, other times they assume the forms of pantomime beasts of burden to bear each other about the stage, and throughout the performance, cast members are called upon to muscle the numerous pieces of the portable set into position around the patchwork floor of rolled-out Persian rugs, without the assistance of formal scene changes and furtive stagehands scurrying about in the dark. Some play instruments, most sing. The result is magic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And the demands don’t end there. On each night a different pair of actors is selected at random to improvise one scene. On the night I attended, Allen Gilmore (who was terrific last summer in \u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/arts/performance/article.jsp?essid=23118\">\u003cb>Bach at Leipzig\u003c/b>\u003c/a> at Shakespeare Santa Cruz and is equally marvelous here as Scheherezade’s father, the aforementioned jester and numerous other parts) and Ari Brand (I especially liked him as the boy who literally goes blind when his love leaves his side) took turns describing the contents of a bag that they both claim to own. At times they were cracking up their colleagues on the stage, which did not feel at all unprofessional. Rather, it was a moment when actors and audience were entirely in synch, each enjoying the same spectacle and letting, if only for a bit, the barriers between seats and stage fall away.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Creating such moments — be it through the serendipity of improvisation, the crafting of words that can be a child’s nursery rhyme one minute and the poetry of lovers the next, or the use of lanterns that descend from the ceiling over the audience, to include us, however symbolically, in the action — is what sets Zimmerman’s work apart from plays in which we are only expected to enjoy ourselves or be attentive. By all indications, the rapt audiences at the Rep are enjoying themselves immensely right now, but Zimmerman wants more: she wants us to connect with her characters, with the stories they are telling and the passions that are struggling to unleash from the depths of their souls. I for one am grateful that she’s crazy enough to believe that such things matter. Cynicism has had quite a ride over the last eight years. It’s high time for a new story.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If you have seen \u003cb>The Arabian Nights\u003c/b>, we’d like to hear from you. What did you think of the performance? Please let us know.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Arabian Nights\u003c/b> runs through January 4, 2009 on Berkeley Repertory Theatre’s Thrust Stage. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.berkeleyrep.org\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/23745/the_arabian_nights",
"authors": [
"92"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10023745",
"label": "arts"
}
},
"podcastsReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"podcasts": {}
},
"radioProgramsReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"radioPrograms": {}
},
"radioSearchSegmentsReducer": {},
"programsReducer": {
"all-things-considered": {
"id": "all-things-considered",
"title": "All Things Considered",
"info": "Every weekday, \u003cem>All Things Considered\u003c/em> hosts Robert Siegel, Audie Cornish, Ari Shapiro, and Kelly McEvers present the program's trademark mix of news, interviews, commentaries, reviews, and offbeat features. Michel Martin hosts on the weekends.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 1pm-2pm, 4:30pm-6:30pm\u003cbr />SAT-SUN 5pm-6pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/All-Things-Considered-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/all-things-considered/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/all-things-considered"
},
"american-suburb-podcast": {
"id": "american-suburb-podcast",
"title": "American Suburb: The Podcast",
"tagline": "The flip side of gentrification, told through one town",
"info": "Gentrification is changing cities across America, forcing people from neighborhoods they have long called home. Call them the displaced. Now those priced out of the Bay Area are looking for a better life in an unlikely place. American Suburb follows this migration to one California town along the Delta, 45 miles from San Francisco. But is this once sleepy suburb ready for them?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/American-Suburb-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/news/series/american-suburb-podcast",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 19
},
"link": "/news/series/american-suburb-podcast/",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/RBrW",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?mt=2&id=1287748328",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/American-Suburb-p1086805/",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/series/american-suburb-podcast/feed/podcast",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkMzMDExODgxNjA5"
}
},
"baycurious": {
"id": "baycurious",
"title": "Bay Curious",
"tagline": "Exploring the Bay Area, one question at a time",
"info": "KQED’s new podcast, Bay Curious, gets to the bottom of the mysteries — both profound and peculiar — that give the Bay Area its unique identity. And we’ll do it with your help! You ask the questions. You decide what Bay Curious investigates. And you join us on the journey to find the answers.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Bay-Curious-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Bay Curious",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/news/series/baycurious",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 3
},
"link": "/podcasts/baycurious",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/bay-curious/id1172473406",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/500557090/bay-curious",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/category/bay-curious-podcast/feed/podcast",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/9a90d476-aa04-455d-9a4c-0871ed6216d4/bay-curious",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/bay-curious",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/6O76IdmhixfijmhTZLIJ8k"
}
},
"bbc-world-service": {
"id": "bbc-world-service",
"title": "BBC World Service",
"info": "The day's top stories from BBC News compiled twice daily in the week, once at weekends.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 9pm-10pm, TUE-FRI 1am-2am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/BBC-World-Service-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/live:bbc_world_service",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "BBC World Service"
},
"link": "/radio/program/bbc-world-service",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/global-news-podcast/id135067274?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/BBC-World-Service-p455581/",
"rss": "https://podcasts.files.bbci.co.uk/p02nq0gn.rss"
}
},
"californiareport": {
"id": "californiareport",
"title": "The California Report",
"tagline": "California, day by day",
"info": "KQED’s statewide radio news program providing daily coverage of issues, trends and public policy decisions.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-California-Report-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The California Report",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/californiareport",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 8
},
"link": "/californiareport",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/kqeds-the-california-report/id79681292",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/26099305-72af-4542-9dde-ac1807fe36d5/kqed-s-the-california-report",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432285393/the-california-report",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqedfm-kqeds-the-california-report-podcast-8838",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/tcram/feed/podcast"
}
},
"californiareportmagazine": {
"id": "californiareportmagazine",
"title": "The California Report Magazine",
"tagline": "Your state, your stories",
"info": "Every week, The California Report Magazine takes you on a road trip for the ears: to visit the places and meet the people who make California unique. The in-depth storytelling podcast from the California Report.",
"airtime": "FRI 4:30pm-5pm, 6:30pm-7pm, 11pm-11:30pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-California-Report-Magazine-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The California Report Magazine",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/californiareportmagazine",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 10
},
"link": "/californiareportmagazine",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-california-report-magazine/id1314750545",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM3NjkwNjk1OTAz",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/564733126/the-california-report-magazine",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-california-report-magazine",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/tcrmag/feed/podcast"
}
},
"city-arts": {
"id": "city-arts",
"title": "City Arts & Lectures",
"info": "A one-hour radio program to hear celebrated writers, artists and thinkers address contemporary ideas and values, often discussing the creative process. Please note: tapes or transcripts are not available",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/05/cityartsandlecture-300x300.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.cityarts.net/",
"airtime": "SUN 1pm-2pm, TUE 10pm, WED 1am",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "City Arts & Lectures"
},
"link": "https://www.cityarts.net",
"subscribe": {
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/City-Arts-and-Lectures-p692/",
"rss": "https://www.cityarts.net/feed/"
}
},
"closealltabs": {
"id": "closealltabs",
"title": "Close All Tabs",
"tagline": "Your irreverent guide to the trends redefining our world",
"info": "Close All Tabs breaks down how digital culture shapes our world through thoughtful insights and irreverent humor.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/CAT_2_Tile-scaled.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Close All Tabs",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 1
},
"link": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/close-all-tabs/id214663465",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC6993880386",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/92d9d4ac-67a3-4eed-b10a-fb45d45b1ef2/close-all-tabs",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/6LAJFHnGK1pYXYzv6SIol6?si=deb0cae19813417c"
}
},
"code-switch-life-kit": {
"id": "code-switch-life-kit",
"title": "Code Switch / Life Kit",
"info": "\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em>, which listeners will hear in the first part of the hour, has fearless and much-needed conversations about race. Hosted by journalists of color, the show tackles the subject of race head-on, exploring how it impacts every part of society — from politics and pop culture to history, sports and more.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em>, which will be in the second part of the hour, guides you through spaces and feelings no one prepares you for — from finances to mental health, from workplace microaggressions to imposter syndrome, from relationships to parenting. The show features experts with real world experience and shares their knowledge. Because everyone needs a little help being human.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510312/codeswitch\">\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/lifekit\">\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />",
"airtime": "SUN 9pm-10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Code-Switch-Life-Kit-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/code-switch-life-kit",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/1112190608?mt=2&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cubnByLm9yZy9yc3MvcG9kY2FzdC5waHA_aWQ9NTEwMzEy",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3bExJ9JQpkwNhoHvaIIuyV",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510312/podcast.xml"
}
},
"commonwealth-club": {
"id": "commonwealth-club",
"title": "Commonwealth Club of California Podcast",
"info": "The Commonwealth Club of California is the nation's oldest and largest public affairs forum. As a non-partisan forum, The Club brings to the public airwaves diverse viewpoints on important topics. The Club's weekly radio broadcast - the oldest in the U.S., dating back to 1924 - is carried across the nation on public radio stations and is now podcasting. Our website archive features audio of our recent programs, as well as selected speeches from our long and distinguished history. This podcast feed is usually updated twice a week and is always un-edited.",
"airtime": "THU 10pm, FRI 1am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Commonwealth-Club-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.commonwealthclub.org/podcasts",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "Commonwealth Club of California"
},
"link": "/radio/program/commonwealth-club",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/commonwealth-club-of-california-podcast/id976334034?mt=2",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cDovL3d3dy5jb21tb253ZWFsdGhjbHViLm9yZy9hdWRpby9wb2RjYXN0L3dlZWtseS54bWw",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Commonwealth-Club-of-California-p1060/"
}
},
"forum": {
"id": "forum",
"title": "Forum",
"tagline": "The conversation starts here",
"info": "KQED’s live call-in program discussing local, state, national and international issues, as well as in-depth interviews.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 9am-11am, 10pm-11pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Forum-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Forum with Mina Kim and Alexis Madrigal",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/forum",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 9
},
"link": "/forum",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/kqeds-forum/id73329719",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM5NTU3MzgxNjMz",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432307980/forum",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqedfm-kqeds-forum-podcast",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC9557381633"
}
},
"freakonomics-radio": {
"id": "freakonomics-radio",
"title": "Freakonomics Radio",
"info": "Freakonomics Radio is a one-hour award-winning podcast and public-radio project hosted by Stephen Dubner, with co-author Steve Levitt as a regular guest. It is produced in partnership with WNYC.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2018/05/freakonomicsRadio.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://freakonomics.com/",
"airtime": "SUN 1am-2am, SAT 3pm-4pm",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/freakonomics-radio",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/4s8b",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/freakonomics-radio/id354668519",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/Freakonomics-Radio-p272293/",
"rss": "https://feeds.feedburner.com/freakonomicsradio"
}
},
"fresh-air": {
"id": "fresh-air",
"title": "Fresh Air",
"info": "Hosted by Terry Gross, \u003cem>Fresh Air from WHYY\u003c/em> is the Peabody Award-winning weekday magazine of contemporary arts and issues. One of public radio's most popular programs, Fresh Air features intimate conversations with today's biggest luminaries.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 7pm-8pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Fresh-Air-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/fresh-air",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/4s8b",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=214089682&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Fresh-Air-p17/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/381444908/podcast.xml"
}
},
"here-and-now": {
"id": "here-and-now",
"title": "Here & Now",
"info": "A live production of NPR and WBUR Boston, in collaboration with stations across the country, Here & Now reflects the fluid world of news as it's happening in the middle of the day, with timely, in-depth news, interviews and conversation. Hosted by Robin Young, Jeremy Hobson and Tonya Mosley.",
"airtime": "MON-THU 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Here-And-Now-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://www.wbur.org/hereandnow",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/here-and-now",
"subsdcribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?mt=2&id=426698661",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Here--Now-p211/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510051/podcast.xml"
}
},
"hidden-brain": {
"id": "hidden-brain",
"title": "Hidden Brain",
"info": "Shankar Vedantam uses science and storytelling to reveal the unconscious patterns that drive human behavior, shape our choices and direct our relationships.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/05/hiddenbrain.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/series/423302056/hidden-brain",
"airtime": "SUN 7pm-8pm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "NPR"
},
"link": "/radio/program/hidden-brain",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/hidden-brain/id1028908750?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Science-Podcasts/Hidden-Brain-p787503/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510308/podcast.xml"
}
},
"how-i-built-this": {
"id": "how-i-built-this",
"title": "How I Built This with Guy Raz",
"info": "Guy Raz dives into the stories behind some of the world's best known companies. How I Built This weaves a narrative journey about innovators, entrepreneurs and idealists—and the movements they built.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2018/05/howIBuiltThis.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510313/how-i-built-this",
"airtime": "SUN 7:30pm-8pm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/how-i-built-this",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/3zxy",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/how-i-built-this-with-guy-raz/id1150510297?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Arts--Culture-Podcasts/How-I-Built-This-p910896/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510313/podcast.xml"
}
},
"hyphenacion": {
"id": "hyphenacion",
"title": "Hyphenación",
"tagline": "Where conversation and cultura meet",
"info": "What kind of no sabo word is Hyphenación? For us, it’s about living within a hyphenation. Like being a third-gen Mexican-American from the Texas border now living that Bay Area Chicano life. Like Xorje! Each week we bring together a couple of hyphenated Latinos to talk all about personal life choices: family, careers, relationships, belonging … everything is on the table. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Hyphenacion_FinalAssets_PodcastTile.png",
"imageAlt": "KQED Hyphenación",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 15
},
"link": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/hyphenaci%C3%B3n/id1191591838",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/2p3Fifq96nw9BPcmFdIq0o?si=39209f7b25774f38",
"youtube": "https://www.youtube.com/c/kqedarts",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/6c3dd23c-93fb-4aab-97ba-1725fa6315f1/hyphenaci%C3%B3n",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC2275451163"
}
},
"jerrybrown": {
"id": "jerrybrown",
"title": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"tagline": "Lessons from a lifetime in politics",
"info": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown brings listeners the wisdom of the former Governor, Mayor, and presidential candidate. Scott Shafer interviewed Brown for more than 40 hours, covering the former governor's life and half-century in the political game – and Brown has some lessons he'd like to share. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Political-Mind-of-Jerry-Brown-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 18
},
"link": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/790253322/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/id1492194549",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/series/jerrybrown/feed/podcast/",
"tuneIn": "http://tun.in/pjGcK",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/54C1dmuyFyKMFttY6X2j6r?si=K8SgRCoISNK6ZbjpXrX5-w",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/44420f75-3b0e-4301-ab3b-16da6b09e543/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown"
}
},
"latino-usa": {
"id": "latino-usa",
"title": "Latino USA",
"airtime": "MON 1am-2am, SUN 6pm-7pm",
"info": "Latino USA, the radio journal of news and culture, is the only national, English-language radio program produced from a Latino perspective.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/latinoUsa.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://latinousa.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/latino-usa",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/xtTd",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=79681317&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Latino-USA-p621/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510016/podcast.xml"
}
},
"marketplace": {
"id": "marketplace",
"title": "Marketplace",
"info": "Our flagship program, helmed by Kai Ryssdal, examines what the day in money delivered, through stories, conversations, newsworthy numbers and more. Updated Monday through Friday at about 3:30 p.m. PT.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 4pm-4:30pm, MON-WED 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Marketplace-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.marketplace.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "American Public Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/marketplace",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=201853034&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/APM-Marketplace-p88/",
"rss": "https://feeds.publicradio.org/public_feeds/marketplace-pm/rss/rss"
}
},
"masters-of-scale": {
"id": "masters-of-scale",
"title": "Masters of Scale",
"info": "Masters of Scale is an original podcast in which LinkedIn co-founder and Greylock Partner Reid Hoffman sets out to describe and prove theories that explain how great entrepreneurs take their companies from zero to a gazillion in ingenious fashion.",
"airtime": "Every other Wednesday June 12 through October 16 at 8pm (repeats Thursdays at 2am)",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Masters-of-Scale-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://mastersofscale.com/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "WaitWhat"
},
"link": "/radio/program/masters-of-scale",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "http://mastersofscale.app.link/",
"rss": "https://rss.art19.com/masters-of-scale"
}
},
"mindshift": {
"id": "mindshift",
"title": "MindShift",
"tagline": "A podcast about the future of learning and how we raise our kids",
"info": "The MindShift podcast explores the innovations in education that are shaping how kids learn. Hosts Ki Sung and Katrina Schwartz introduce listeners to educators, researchers, parents and students who are developing effective ways to improve how kids learn. We cover topics like how fed-up administrators are developing surprising tactics to deal with classroom disruptions; how listening to podcasts are helping kids develop reading skills; the consequences of overparenting; and why interdisciplinary learning can engage students on all ends of the traditional achievement spectrum. This podcast is part of the MindShift education site, a division of KQED News. KQED is an NPR/PBS member station based in San Francisco. You can also visit the MindShift website for episodes and supplemental blog posts or tweet us \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/MindShiftKQED\">@MindShiftKQED\u003c/a> or visit us at \u003ca href=\"/mindshift\">MindShift.KQED.org\u003c/a>",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Mindshift-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED MindShift: How We Will Learn",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/mindshift/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 12
},
"link": "/podcasts/mindshift",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/mindshift-podcast/id1078765985",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM1NzY0NjAwNDI5",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/464615685/mind-shift-podcast",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/stories-teachers-share",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/0MxSpNYZKNprFLCl7eEtyx"
}
},
"morning-edition": {
"id": "morning-edition",
"title": "Morning Edition",
"info": "\u003cem>Morning Edition\u003c/em> takes listeners around the country and the world with multi-faceted stories and commentaries every weekday. Hosts Steve Inskeep, David Greene and Rachel Martin bring you the latest breaking news and features to prepare you for the day.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3am-9am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Morning-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/morning-edition/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/morning-edition"
},
"onourwatch": {
"id": "onourwatch",
"title": "On Our Watch",
"tagline": "Deeply-reported investigative journalism",
"info": "For decades, the process for how police police themselves has been inconsistent – if not opaque. In some states, like California, these proceedings were completely hidden. After a new police transparency law unsealed scores of internal affairs files, our reporters set out to examine these cases and the shadow world of police discipline. On Our Watch brings listeners into the rooms where officers are questioned and witnesses are interrogated to find out who this system is really protecting. Is it the officers, or the public they've sworn to serve?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/On-Our-Watch-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "On Our Watch from NPR and KQED",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 11
},
"link": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/id1567098962",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5ucHIub3JnLzUxMDM2MC9wb2RjYXN0LnhtbD9zYz1nb29nbGVwb2RjYXN0cw",
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/onourwatch",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/0OLWoyizopu6tY1XiuX70x",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-Our-Watch-p1436229/",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/show/on-our-watch",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510360/podcast.xml"
}
},
"on-the-media": {
"id": "on-the-media",
"title": "On The Media",
"info": "Our weekly podcast explores how the media 'sausage' is made, casts an incisive eye on fluctuations in the marketplace of ideas, and examines threats to the freedom of information and expression in America and abroad. For one hour a week, the show tries to lift the veil from the process of \"making media,\" especially news media, because it's through that lens that we see the world and the world sees us",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm-3pm, MON 12am-1am",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/onTheMedia.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/otm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "wnyc"
},
"link": "/radio/program/on-the-media",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/on-the-media/id73330715?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-the-Media-p69/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/onthemedia"
}
},
"pbs-newshour": {
"id": "pbs-newshour",
"title": "PBS NewsHour",
"info": "Analysis, background reports and updates from the PBS NewsHour putting today's news in context.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/PBS-News-Hour-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "pbs"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pbs-newshour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pbs-newshour-full-show/id394432287?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/PBS-NewsHour---Full-Show-p425698/",
"rss": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/feeds/rss/podcasts/show"
}
},
"perspectives": {
"id": "perspectives",
"title": "Perspectives",
"tagline": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991",
"info": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Perspectives_Tile_Final.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Perspectives",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/perspectives/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 14
},
"link": "/perspectives",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/id73801135",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432309616/perspectives",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/perspectives/category/perspectives/feed/",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly93dzIua3FlZC5vcmcvcGVyc3BlY3RpdmVzL2NhdGVnb3J5L3BlcnNwZWN0aXZlcy9mZWVkLw"
}
},
"planet-money": {
"id": "planet-money",
"title": "Planet Money",
"info": "The economy explained. Imagine you could call up a friend and say, Meet me at the bar and tell me what's going on with the economy. Now imagine that's actually a fun evening.",
"airtime": "SUN 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/planetmoney.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/sections/money/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/planet-money",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/M4f5",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/planet-money/id290783428?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Business--Economics-Podcasts/Planet-Money-p164680/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510289/podcast.xml"
}
},
"politicalbreakdown": {
"id": "politicalbreakdown",
"title": "Political Breakdown",
"tagline": "Politics from a personal perspective",
"info": "Political Breakdown is a new series that explores the political intersection of California and the nation. Each week hosts Scott Shafer and Marisa Lagos are joined with a new special guest to unpack politics -- with personality — and offer an insider’s glimpse at how politics happens.",
"airtime": "THU 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Political-Breakdown-2024-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Political Breakdown",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/politicalbreakdown",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 5
},
"link": "/podcasts/politicalbreakdown",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/political-breakdown/id1327641087",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/e0c2d153-ad36-4c8d-901d-f1da6a724824/political-breakdown",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/572155894/political-breakdown",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/political-breakdown",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/07RVyIjIdk2WDuVehvBMoN",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/political-breakdown/feed/podcast"
}
},
"possible": {
"id": "possible",
"title": "Possible",
"info": "Possible is hosted by entrepreneur Reid Hoffman and writer Aria Finger. Together in Possible, Hoffman and Finger lead enlightening discussions about building a brighter collective future. The show features interviews with visionary guests like Trevor Noah, Sam Altman and Janette Sadik-Khan. Possible paints an optimistic portrait of the world we can create through science, policy, business, art and our shared humanity. It asks: What if everything goes right for once? How can we get there? Each episode also includes a short fiction story generated by advanced AI GPT-4, serving as a thought-provoking springboard to speculate how humanity could leverage technology for good.",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Possible-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.possible.fm/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "Possible"
},
"link": "/radio/program/possible",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/possible/id1677184070",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/730YpdUSNlMyPQwNnyjp4k"
}
},
"pri-the-world": {
"id": "pri-the-world",
"title": "PRI's The World: Latest Edition",
"info": "Each weekday, host Marco Werman and his team of producers bring you the world's most interesting stories in an hour of radio that reminds us just how small our planet really is.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 2pm-3pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-World-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pri.org/programs/the-world",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "PRI"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pri-the-world",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pris-the-world-latest-edition/id278196007?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/News--Politics-Podcasts/PRIs-The-World-p24/",
"rss": "http://feeds.feedburner.com/pri/theworld"
}
},
"radiolab": {
"id": "radiolab",
"title": "Radiolab",
"info": "A two-time Peabody Award-winner, Radiolab is an investigation told through sounds and stories, and centered around one big idea. In the Radiolab world, information sounds like music and science and culture collide. Hosted by Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich, the show is designed for listeners who demand skepticism, but appreciate wonder. WNYC Studios is the producer of other leading podcasts including Freakonomics Radio, Death, Sex & Money, On the Media and many more.",
"airtime": "SUN 12am-1am, SAT 2pm-3pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/radiolab1400.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/radiolab/",
"meta": {
"site": "science",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/radiolab",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/radiolab/id152249110?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/RadioLab-p68032/",
"rss": "https://feeds.wnyc.org/radiolab"
}
},
"reveal": {
"id": "reveal",
"title": "Reveal",
"info": "Created by The Center for Investigative Reporting and PRX, Reveal is public radios first one-hour weekly radio show and podcast dedicated to investigative reporting. Credible, fact based and without a partisan agenda, Reveal combines the power and artistry of driveway moment storytelling with data-rich reporting on critically important issues. The result is stories that inform and inspire, arming our listeners with information to right injustices, hold the powerful accountable and improve lives.Reveal is hosted by Al Letson and showcases the award-winning work of CIR and newsrooms large and small across the nation. In a radio and podcast market crowded with choices, Reveal focuses on important and often surprising stories that illuminate the world for our listeners.",
"airtime": "SAT 4pm-5pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/reveal300px.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.revealnews.org/episodes/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/reveal",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/reveal/id886009669",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Reveal-p679597/",
"rss": "http://feeds.revealradio.org/revealpodcast"
}
},
"rightnowish": {
"id": "rightnowish",
"title": "Rightnowish",
"tagline": "Art is where you find it",
"info": "Rightnowish digs into life in the Bay Area right now… ish. Journalist Pendarvis Harshaw takes us to galleries painted on the sides of liquor stores in West Oakland. We'll dance in warehouses in the Bayview, make smoothies with kids in South Berkeley, and listen to classical music in a 1984 Cutlass Supreme in Richmond. Every week, Pen talks to movers and shakers about how the Bay Area shapes what they create, and how they shape the place we call home.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Rightnowish-Podcast-Tile-500x500-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Rightnowish with Pendarvis Harshaw",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/rightnowish",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 16
},
"link": "/podcasts/rightnowish",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/721590300/rightnowish",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/arts/programs/rightnowish/feed/podcast",
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/rightnowish/id1482187648",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/rightnowish",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkMxMjU5MTY3NDc4",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/7kEJuafTzTVan7B78ttz1I"
}
},
"science-friday": {
"id": "science-friday",
"title": "Science Friday",
"info": "Science Friday is a weekly science talk show, broadcast live over public radio stations nationwide. Each week, the show focuses on science topics that are in the news and tries to bring an educated, balanced discussion to bear on the scientific issues at hand. Panels of expert guests join host Ira Flatow, a veteran science journalist, to discuss science and to take questions from listeners during the call-in portion of the program.",
"airtime": "FRI 11am-1pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Science-Friday-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/science-friday",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/science-friday",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=73329284&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Science-Friday-p394/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/science-friday"
}
},
"snap-judgment": {
"id": "snap-judgment",
"title": "Snap Judgment",
"tagline": "Real stories with killer beats",
"info": "The Snap Judgment radio show and podcast mixes real stories with killer beats to produce cinematic, dramatic radio. Snap's musical brand of storytelling dares listeners to see the world through the eyes of another. This is storytelling... with a BEAT!! Snap first aired on public radio stations nationwide in July 2010. Today, Snap Judgment airs on over 450 public radio stations and is brought to the airwaves by KQED & PRX.",
"airtime": "SAT 1pm-2pm, 9pm-10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Snap-Judgment-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Snap Judgment",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://snapjudgment.org",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 4
},
"link": "https://snapjudgment.org",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/snap-judgment/id283657561",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/449018144/snap-judgment",
"stitcher": "https://www.pandora.com/podcast/snap-judgment/PC:241?source=stitcher-sunset",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3Cct7ZWmxHNAtLgBTqjC5v",
"rss": "https://snap.feed.snapjudgment.org/"
}
},
"soldout": {
"id": "soldout",
"title": "SOLD OUT: Rethinking Housing in America",
"tagline": "A new future for housing",
"info": "Sold Out: Rethinking Housing in America",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Sold-Out-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Sold Out: Rethinking Housing in America",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/soldout",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 13
},
"link": "/podcasts/soldout",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/911586047/s-o-l-d-o-u-t-a-new-future-for-housing",
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/introducing-sold-out-rethinking-housing-in-america/id1531354937",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/soldout",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/38dTBSk2ISFoPiyYNoKn1X",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/sold-out-rethinking-housing-in-america",
"tunein": "https://tunein.com/radio/SOLD-OUT-Rethinking-Housing-in-America-p1365871/"
}
},
"spooked": {
"id": "spooked",
"title": "Spooked",
"tagline": "True-life supernatural stories",
"info": "",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/Spooked-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Spooked",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://spookedpodcast.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 7
},
"link": "https://spookedpodcast.org/",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/spooked/id1279361017",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/549547848/snap-judgment-presents-spooked",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/76571Rfl3m7PLJQZKQIGCT",
"rss": "https://feeds.simplecast.com/TBotaapn"
}
},
"tech-nation": {
"id": "tech-nation",
"title": "Tech Nation Radio Podcast",
"info": "Tech Nation is a weekly public radio program, hosted by Dr. Moira Gunn. Founded in 1993, it has grown from a simple interview show to a multi-faceted production, featuring conversations with noted technology and science leaders, and a weekly science and technology-related commentary.",
"airtime": "FRI 10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Tech-Nation-Radio-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://technation.podomatic.com/",
"meta": {
"site": "science",
"source": "Tech Nation Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/tech-nation",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://technation.podomatic.com/rss2.xml"
}
},
"ted-radio-hour": {
"id": "ted-radio-hour",
"title": "TED Radio Hour",
"info": "The TED Radio Hour is a journey through fascinating ideas, astonishing inventions, fresh approaches to old problems, and new ways to think and create.",
"airtime": "SUN 3pm-4pm, SAT 10pm-11pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/tedRadioHour.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/ted-radio-hour/?showDate=2018-06-22",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/ted-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/8vsS",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=523121474&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/TED-Radio-Hour-p418021/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510298/podcast.xml"
}
},
"thebay": {
"id": "thebay",
"title": "The Bay",
"tagline": "Local news to keep you rooted",
"info": "Host Devin Katayama walks you through the biggest story of the day with reporters and newsmakers.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Bay-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Bay",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/thebay",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 2
},
"link": "/podcasts/thebay",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-bay/id1350043452",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/d800ea4c-7a2c-42f2-b861-edaf78a5db0b/the-bay",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/586725995/the-bay",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-bay",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/4BIKBKIujizLHlIlBNaAqQ",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC8259786327"
}
},
"thelatest": {
"id": "thelatest",
"title": "The Latest",
"tagline": "Trusted local news in real time",
"info": "",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/The-Latest-2025-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Latest",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/thelatest",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 6
},
"link": "/thelatest",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-latest-from-kqed/id1197721799",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/1257949365/the-latest-from-k-q-e-d",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/5KIIXMgM9GTi5AepwOYvIZ?si=bd3053fec7244dba",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC9137121918"
}
},
"theleap": {
"id": "theleap",
"title": "The Leap",
"tagline": "What if you closed your eyes, and jumped?",
"info": "Stories about people making dramatic, risky changes, told by award-winning public radio reporter Judy Campbell.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Leap-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Leap",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/theleap",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 17
},
"link": "/podcasts/theleap",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-leap/id1046668171",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/447248267/the-leap",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-leap",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3sSlVHHzU0ytLwuGs1SD1U",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/programs/the-leap/feed/podcast"
}
},
"the-moth-radio-hour": {
"id": "the-moth-radio-hour",
"title": "The Moth Radio Hour",
"info": "Since its launch in 1997, The Moth has presented thousands of true stories, told live and without notes, to standing-room-only crowds worldwide. Moth storytellers stand alone, under a spotlight, with only a microphone and a roomful of strangers. The storyteller and the audience embark on a high-wire act of shared experience which is both terrifying and exhilarating. Since 2008, The Moth podcast has featured many of our favorite stories told live on Moth stages around the country. For information on all of our programs and live events, visit themoth.org.",
"airtime": "SAT 8pm-9pm and SUN 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/theMoth.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://themoth.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "prx"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-moth-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-moth-podcast/id275699983?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/The-Moth-p273888/",
"rss": "http://feeds.themoth.org/themothpodcast"
}
},
"the-new-yorker-radio-hour": {
"id": "the-new-yorker-radio-hour",
"title": "The New Yorker Radio Hour",
"info": "The New Yorker Radio Hour is a weekly program presented by the magazine's editor, David Remnick, and produced by WNYC Studios and The New Yorker. Each episode features a diverse mix of interviews, profiles, storytelling, and an occasional burst of humor inspired by the magazine, and shaped by its writers, artists, and editors. This isn't a radio version of a magazine, but something all its own, reflecting the rich possibilities of audio storytelling and conversation. Theme music for the show was composed and performed by Merrill Garbus of tUnE-YArDs.",
"airtime": "SAT 10am-11am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-New-Yorker-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/tnyradiohour",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-new-yorker-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/id1050430296",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/New-Yorker-Radio-Hour-p803804/",
"rss": "https://feeds.feedburner.com/newyorkerradiohour"
}
},
"the-sam-sanders-show": {
"id": "the-sam-sanders-show",
"title": "The Sam Sanders Show",
"info": "One of public radio's most dynamic voices, Sam Sanders helped launch The NPR Politics Podcast and hosted NPR's hit show It's Been A Minute. Now, the award-winning host returns with something brand new, The Sam Sanders Show. Every week, Sam Sanders and friends dig into the culture that shapes our lives: what's driving the biggest trends, how artists really think, and even the memes you can't stop scrolling past. Sam is beloved for his way of unpacking the world and bringing you up close to fresh currents and engaging conversations. The Sam Sanders Show is smart, funny and always a good time.",
"airtime": "FRI 12-1pm AND SAT 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/The-Sam-Sanders-Show-Podcast-Tile-400x400-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.kcrw.com/shows/the-sam-sanders-show/latest",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "KCRW"
},
"link": "https://www.kcrw.com/shows/the-sam-sanders-show/latest",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://feed.cdnstream1.com/zjb/feed/download/ac/28/59/ac28594c-e1d0-4231-8728-61865cdc80e8.xml"
}
},
"the-splendid-table": {
"id": "the-splendid-table",
"title": "The Splendid Table",
"info": "\u003cem>The Splendid Table\u003c/em> hosts our nation's conversations about cooking, sustainability and food culture.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Splendid-Table-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.splendidtable.org/",
"airtime": "SUN 10-11 pm",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-splendid-table"
},
"this-american-life": {
"id": "this-american-life",
"title": "This American Life",
"info": "This American Life is a weekly public radio show, heard by 2.2 million people on more than 500 stations. Another 2.5 million people download the weekly podcast. It is hosted by Ira Glass, produced in collaboration with Chicago Public Media, delivered to stations by PRX The Public Radio Exchange, and has won all of the major broadcasting awards.",
"airtime": "SAT 12pm-1pm, 7pm-8pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/thisAmericanLife.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.thisamericanlife.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "wbez"
},
"link": "/radio/program/this-american-life",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=201671138&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"rss": "https://www.thisamericanlife.org/podcast/rss.xml"
}
},
"tinydeskradio": {
"id": "tinydeskradio",
"title": "Tiny Desk Radio",
"info": "We're bringing the best of Tiny Desk to the airwaves, only on public radio.",
"airtime": "SUN 8pm and SAT 9pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/300x300-For-Member-Station-Logo-Tiny-Desk-Radio-@2x.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/series/g-s1-52030/tiny-desk-radio",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/tinydeskradio",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/g-s1-52030/rss.xml"
}
},
"wait-wait-dont-tell-me": {
"id": "wait-wait-dont-tell-me",
"title": "Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!",
"info": "Peter Sagal and Bill Kurtis host the weekly NPR News quiz show alongside some of the best and brightest news and entertainment personalities.",
"airtime": "SUN 10am-11am, SAT 11am-12pm, SAT 6pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Wait-Wait-Podcast-Tile-300x300-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/wait-wait-dont-tell-me/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/wait-wait-dont-tell-me",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/Xogv",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=121493804&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Wait-Wait-Dont-Tell-Me-p46/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/344098539/podcast.xml"
}
},
"weekend-edition-saturday": {
"id": "weekend-edition-saturday",
"title": "Weekend Edition Saturday",
"info": "Weekend Edition Saturday wraps up the week's news and offers a mix of analysis and features on a wide range of topics, including arts, sports, entertainment, and human interest stories. The two-hour program is hosted by NPR's Peabody Award-winning Scott Simon.",
"airtime": "SAT 5am-10am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Weekend-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/weekend-edition-saturday/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/weekend-edition-saturday"
},
"weekend-edition-sunday": {
"id": "weekend-edition-sunday",
"title": "Weekend Edition Sunday",
"info": "Weekend Edition Sunday features interviews with newsmakers, artists, scientists, politicians, musicians, writers, theologians and historians. The program has covered news events from Nelson Mandela's 1990 release from a South African prison to the capture of Saddam Hussein.",
"airtime": "SUN 5am-10am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Weekend-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/weekend-edition-sunday/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/weekend-edition-sunday"
}
},
"racesReducer": {},
"racesGenElectionReducer": {},
"racesGenElection2026Reducer": {},
"radioSchedulesReducer": {},
"listsReducer": {
"posts/arts?category=theater": {
"isFetching": false,
"latestQuery": {
"from": 900,
"size": 12
},
"vitalsOnly": false,
"totalRequested": 12,
"isLoading": false,
"isLoadingMore": true,
"total": {
"value": 979,
"relation": "eq"
},
"items": [
"arts_25374",
"arts_25174",
"arts_25093",
"arts_24856",
"arts_24805",
"arts_24757",
"arts_24613",
"arts_24499",
"arts_24291",
"arts_24137",
"arts_24064",
"arts_23745"
],
"complete": true
}
},
"recallGuideReducer": {
"intros": {},
"policy": {},
"candidates": {}
},
"savedArticleReducer": {
"articles": [],
"status": {}
},
"newslettersReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"newsletters": {},
"isSubscribing": false,
"isUnsubscribing": false,
"subscribedNewsletters": {}
},
"termsReducer": {
"about": {
"name": "About",
"type": "terms",
"id": "about",
"slug": "about",
"link": "/about",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"arts": {
"name": "Arts & Culture",
"grouping": [
"arts",
"pop",
"trulyca"
],
"description": "KQED Arts provides daily in-depth coverage of the Bay Area's music, art, film, performing arts, literature and arts news, as well as cultural commentary and criticism.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts",
"slug": "arts",
"link": "/arts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"artschool": {
"name": "Art School",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "artschool",
"slug": "artschool",
"link": "/artschool",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"bayareabites": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "bayareabites",
"slug": "bayareabites",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"bayareahiphop": {
"name": "Bay Area Hiphop",
"type": "terms",
"id": "bayareahiphop",
"slug": "bayareahiphop",
"link": "/bayareahiphop",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"campaign21": {
"name": "Campaign 21",
"type": "terms",
"id": "campaign21",
"slug": "campaign21",
"link": "/campaign21",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"careers": {
"name": "Careers",
"type": "terms",
"id": "careers",
"slug": "careers",
"link": "/careers",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"checkplease": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "checkplease",
"slug": "checkplease",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"education": {
"name": "Education",
"grouping": [
"education"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "education",
"slug": "education",
"link": "/education",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"elections": {
"name": "Elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "elections",
"slug": "elections",
"link": "/elections",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"events": {
"name": "Events",
"type": "terms",
"id": "events",
"slug": "events",
"link": "/events",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"event": {
"name": "Event",
"alias": "events",
"type": "terms",
"id": "event",
"slug": "event",
"link": "/event",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"filmschoolshorts": {
"name": "Film School Shorts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "filmschoolshorts",
"slug": "filmschoolshorts",
"link": "/filmschoolshorts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"food": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "food",
"slug": "food",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"forum": {
"name": "Forum",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/forum?",
"parent": "news",
"type": "terms",
"id": "forum",
"slug": "forum",
"link": "/forum",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"futureofyou": {
"name": "Future of You",
"grouping": [
"science",
"futureofyou"
],
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "futureofyou",
"slug": "futureofyou",
"link": "/futureofyou",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"jpepinheart": {
"name": "KQED food",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/food,bayareabites,checkplease",
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "jpepinheart",
"slug": "jpepinheart",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"liveblog": {
"name": "Live Blog",
"type": "terms",
"id": "liveblog",
"slug": "liveblog",
"link": "/liveblog",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"livetv": {
"name": "Live TV",
"parent": "tv",
"type": "terms",
"id": "livetv",
"slug": "livetv",
"link": "/livetv",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"lowdown": {
"name": "The Lowdown",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/lowdown?",
"parent": "news",
"type": "terms",
"id": "lowdown",
"slug": "lowdown",
"link": "/lowdown",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"mindshift": {
"name": "Mindshift",
"parent": "news",
"description": "MindShift explores the future of education by highlighting the innovative – and sometimes counterintuitive – ways educators and parents are helping all children succeed.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "mindshift",
"slug": "mindshift",
"link": "/mindshift",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"news": {
"name": "News",
"grouping": [
"news",
"forum"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "news",
"slug": "news",
"link": "/news",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"newsletters": {
"name": "newsletters",
"type": "terms",
"id": "newsletters",
"slug": "newsletters",
"link": "/newsletters",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"perspectives": {
"name": "Perspectives",
"parent": "radio",
"type": "terms",
"id": "perspectives",
"slug": "perspectives",
"link": "/perspectives",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"podcasts": {
"name": "Podcasts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "podcasts",
"slug": "podcasts",
"link": "/podcasts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"pop": {
"name": "Pop",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "pop",
"slug": "pop",
"link": "/pop",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"pressroom": {
"name": "Pressroom",
"type": "terms",
"id": "pressroom",
"slug": "pressroom",
"link": "/pressroom",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"quest": {
"name": "Quest",
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "quest",
"slug": "quest",
"link": "/quest",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"radio": {
"name": "Radio",
"grouping": [
"forum",
"perspectives"
],
"description": "Listen to KQED Public Radio – home of Forum and The California Report – on 88.5 FM in San Francisco, 89.3 FM in Sacramento, 88.3 FM in Santa Rosa and 88.1 FM in Martinez.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "radio",
"slug": "radio",
"link": "/radio",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"root": {
"name": "KQED",
"image": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png",
"imageWidth": 1200,
"imageHeight": 630,
"headData": {
"title": "KQED | News, Radio, Podcasts, TV | Public Media for Northern California",
"description": "KQED provides public radio, television, and independent reporting on issues that matter to the Bay Area. We’re the NPR and PBS member station for Northern California."
},
"type": "terms",
"id": "root",
"slug": "root",
"link": "/root",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"science": {
"name": "Science",
"grouping": [
"science",
"futureofyou"
],
"description": "KQED Science brings you award-winning science and environment coverage from the Bay Area and beyond.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "science",
"slug": "science",
"link": "/science",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"stateofhealth": {
"name": "State of Health",
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "stateofhealth",
"slug": "stateofhealth",
"link": "/stateofhealth",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"support": {
"name": "Support",
"type": "terms",
"id": "support",
"slug": "support",
"link": "/support",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"thedolist": {
"name": "The Do List",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "thedolist",
"slug": "thedolist",
"link": "/thedolist",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"trulyca": {
"name": "Truly CA",
"grouping": [
"arts",
"pop",
"trulyca"
],
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "trulyca",
"slug": "trulyca",
"link": "/trulyca",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"tv": {
"name": "TV",
"type": "terms",
"id": "tv",
"slug": "tv",
"link": "/tv",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"voterguide": {
"name": "Voter Guide",
"parent": "elections",
"alias": "elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "voterguide",
"slug": "voterguide",
"link": "/voterguide",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"guiaelectoral": {
"name": "Guia Electoral",
"parent": "elections",
"alias": "elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "guiaelectoral",
"slug": "guiaelectoral",
"link": "/guiaelectoral",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"arts_category_theater": {
"isLoading": true
},
"arts_967": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts_967",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "967",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Theater",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Theater Archives | KQED Arts",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 985,
"slug": "theater",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/arts/category/theater"
},
"arts_69": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts_69",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "69",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Music",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Music Archives | KQED Arts",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 70,
"slug": "music",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/arts/category/music"
}
},
"userPermissionsReducer": {
"wpLoggedIn": false
},
"eventsReducer": {},
"fssReducer": {},
"tvDailyScheduleReducer": {},
"tvWeeklyScheduleReducer": {},
"tvPrimetimeScheduleReducer": {},
"tvMonthlyScheduleReducer": {},
"userAccountReducer": {
"user": {
"email": null,
"emailStatus": "EMAIL_UNVALIDATED",
"loggedStatus": "LOGGED_OUT",
"loggingChecked": false,
"articles": [],
"firstName": null,
"lastName": null,
"phoneNumber": null,
"fetchingMembership": false,
"membershipError": false,
"memberships": [
{
"id": null,
"startDate": null,
"firstName": null,
"lastName": null,
"familyNumber": null,
"memberNumber": null,
"memberSince": null,
"expirationDate": null,
"pfsEligible": false,
"isSustaining": false,
"membershipLevel": "Prospect",
"membershipStatus": "Non Member",
"lastGiftDate": null,
"renewalDate": null,
"lastDonationAmount": null
}
]
},
"authModal": {
"isOpen": false,
"view": "LANDING_VIEW"
},
"error": null
},
"youthMediaReducer": {},
"checkPleaseReducer": {
"filterData": {
"region": {
"key": "Restaurant Region",
"filters": [
"Any Region"
]
},
"cuisine": {
"key": "Restaurant Cuisine",
"filters": [
"Any Cuisine"
]
}
},
"restaurantDataById": {},
"restaurantIdsSorted": [],
"error": null
},
"userAgentReducer": {
"userAgent": "Mozilla/5.0 AppleWebKit/537.36 (KHTML, like Gecko; compatible; ClaudeBot/1.0; +claudebot@anthropic.com)",
"isBot": true
}
}
